I’m glad that Mrs. Sinensky raised this topic, because this Shabbos I had an experience that made me reflect on it and I wanted to hear your thoughts about the matter.
Sometimes it is hard to daven properly in shul or other public settings. There are many distractions around, and we might find that our thoughts keep wandering to what is going on around us – what other people are doing or wearing, hearing their whispered conversations, or sometimes starting our own. Or sometimes we might just be self-conscious – “If my friends see me davening with kavana, will they still think I’m cool?”
Sometimes I think it is almost easier to daven on my own, someplace quiet. And yet, we are told that “bi’rov ‘am hadrat melekh”. The King (Hashem) is more glorified the greater the abundance of people.
My family and I spent this past Shabbos at my uncle’s house in Shilo. Friday it rained for the first time this season. Not a lot, but coming only one week after we started saying mashiv ha'ruach made me feel like Hashem is listening to our tefillot.
Because of the rain, the entire yishuv lost power, and since the water supply is also dependent on electricity, there was no water, either. The blackout lasted about 7 hours, and ended as we were finishing our Friday night meal by candlelight. Despite some of the difficulties, the experience was really rather nice.
But what was really special was Friday night davening. The shul was almost pitch black inside. There were a couple of candles lit here and there, but unless you were sitting right next to one the light didn’t help much.
Imagine sitting in almost perfect darkness, not able to see anything in a siddur, not even able to make out the face of the person next to you. And hear, in your mind, 100+ voices singing Kabbalat Shabbat, and it seemed that everyone was singing it with more feeling than usual.
We finished Kabbalat Shabbat, and I was wondering how I was going to daven maariv completely by heart. People started saying boruchu in louder voices, but the rav quieted everyone down and then only the shliach tzibbur could be heard, and he davened everything out loud word by word, including shemoneh esrei, and everyone whispered along with him.
You couldn't see what anyone looked like, or focus on anything distracting. The darkness was isolating, and I felt like each person was alone in a private conversation with Hakadosh Boruch Hu, yet we had the comfort and strength of the whole tzibbur together at the same time.
It was something I have never felt with such intensity before, and it was all because the lights were out. But I was thinking, maybe we each have to try to replicate that to whatever extent we can, when we daven b’tzibbur. Can we try to minimize the distractions that we ourselves cause, and can we try to increase our own focus in davening so that we are at once an individual, in communication with Hashem, yet at the same time a part of the greater tzibbur that gives our tefillot that much more influence.
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