Our Gemara on Amud Aleph discusses the ritual of waving of the two loaves and bikkurim offerings on Shavuos, back and forth, up and down. What is the significance of this waving? The Gemara offers two ideas:

Rabbi Ḥiyya bar Abba says that Rabbi Yoḥanan says: He extends the lambs and brings them back in order to dedicate them to He to Whom the four directions belong. He raises and lowers them in order to dedicate them to He to Whom the heavens and the earth belong.

In the West, Eretz Yisrael, they taught the idea like this: Rabbi Ḥama bar Ukva says that Rabbi Yosei bar Rabbi Ḥanina says: He extends the lambs and brings them back in order to request a halt to harmful winds and storms that come from all directions. Similarly, he raises and lowers them in order to halt harmful dews and rains that come from above.

The first explanation is understandable and typical of the symbolism in sacrifices, as we have seen throughout our studies in Zevachim and Menachos. The ritual brings awareness of, and connection to God. The second explanation is more puzzling. Instead of recognizing and praying to the One who makes the forces of nature, it almost looks like we are trying to magically manipulate the forces of nature. Yet we do find a similar idea in the simanim of Rosh Hashana (actions to bring blessings, such as the apple in the honey), which are endorsed by the Gemara (Kerisos 6a). Even so, we see it is an acceptable form of worship, but how should we understand it?

It must be dependent on the person. If indeed it is used as a sort of magical talisman, that is a problem, as we saw in our blogpost, Psychology of the Daf, Menachos 52. Rather, the person should look at it as a prayer via action; asking God to bring this desired result by acting it out physically. 

We could stop there and say, this is the way humans are, and such actions can arouse deeper feelings and emotions, as we saw in Psychology of the Daf, Menachos 56. But I think there is more going on beneath the surface, and this is about what represents an age-old question over what is the best form of prayer. Is it to connect to God by asking for physical and spiritual assistance, or is it to connect to God by recognizing and praising His greatness? The first explanation of the waving has no request, only praise of God, while the second contains no praise and an implied request.

We see within our daily prayer service both dimensions. Many prayers invoke praise and meditations on the wonders of God, such as Pesukei D’Zimra, which ask for nothing. But then comes Shemoneh Esre, which after the introductory first three blessings, is filled with requests of every human need. It would seem that both are accepted, and possibly a necessary combination.

Thus far we have said the standard understanding that prayer fills those two functions. Furthermore, the idea that prayer at times is exclusively for us to ask for our needs is supported by the Gemara (Chulin 60b) that states: “God desires the prayers of the righteous.” Furthermore, it is codified in Shulchan Aruch (O.C. 119:1) that one may insert personal prayers within the appropriate section of Shemoneh Esre, per the subject matter of the particular blessing.

Having said that, it is important to consider that this is not the position of the Nefesh Hachaim. He says in Shaar Beis (especially chapters 2, 4, and 11) that prior to prayer one must detach from personal concerns and physical needs. His purpose in prayer is to help elevate and attach the physical world back to God.

He says it is only logical that prayer should not be about our needs, since God is already good. Would it be respectful to beg a doctor not to give you necessary medicine even if the shot hurt? Why should we ask God to fix anything? His will is perfect and what happens to us is for our good. Rather, Nefesh Hachaim says we should pray to be healthy so we can serve God better; we should pray for God’s sake, so to speak. If we get caught up in our personal needs and desires, we become bound to the body, and then our prayers do not let our souls rise above and attach to God.

The Nefesh Hachaim’s approach is sophisticated and can seem cold and unemotional. Some would argue that the motivating human emotions of vulnerability and need are part of the strong force that helps a person attach to God, which Nefesh Hachaim does not support. But for Nefesh Hachaim, I believe it too is emotional. For Nefesh Hachaim, meditating on God’s greatness and the wish to be connected to Him can come from a deep love and longing that we discussed yesterday in Blogpost Psychology of the Daf, Menachos 60 (and see Rambam Yesodei HaTorah 4:12).

In the end, not that one can argue with the Nefesh Hachaim, it is hard to see in practice how the Nefesh Hachaim’s approach was utilized. Many of the great tzaddikim, as they are represented through stories and personal accounts, did seem to be praying in what appeared to be highly personal prayers. But we don’t know for sure, because perhaps their thoughts were more aligned with the Nefesh Hachaim. Still, I strongly suspect that generations of mothers and bubbies who poured their hearts and tears into their Tehilim never heard of the Nefesh Hachaim, and yet their prayers worked. In everyday life, I think most Jews pray as our Bubbies did.