Entering into the Ark of Prayer
The Hebrew month of Cheshvan brings a welcome relief from the spiritual highs of Tishrei— we get to take a break from large communal gatherings and integrate all that transpired for us during the high holidays. With more space for solitude and intimate time at home, we have a chance to bring renewed energy to the inner work of spiritual practice and prayer. In ancient Israel, Cheshvan is when people began to pray for rain.
From a spiritual perspective, rain represents all that we need for life to bloom forth and flourish; it symbolizes the possibility of sustenance, and the union of heaven and earth. Our tradition teaches that unlike dew, the proper rainfall in its season is dependent upon our prayers and deeds. Following the description of six days of creation, Torah says that vegetation had not yet sprouted upon the earth because it had not yet rained, as there was no human to work the land. Rashi, citing the midrash, comments that the rain had not yet fallen upon the earth because there was no human to pray for it. Indeed, the midrash seems to suggest that the human being was essentially created to pray for rain. Our mystical tradition teaches that we as humans are the intermediaries between heaven and earth, and the channel that makes that connection possible is prayer.
This month, we might focus on revitalizing our prayer practices. We can bring mindfulness here by unifying our body, heart and mind within the action of prayer itself. The Baal Shem Tov shares some beautiful instructions on this via his homiletic reading of God’s command to Noah: “Make a shining stone for the ark.” The Baal Shem Tov points out that the word “ark” in Hebrew— teivah— can also be translated as “word.” The verse continues, “Come, you and your entire household, into the teivah.” A person must go deeply inside of the words of prayer, bringing their heart, attention, and all of their being— their full household— to the words, until they begin to sparkle like a glass window through which the divine can radiate.
This approach to prayer invites a slowing down. You might choose just one verse from the prayer book to focus on, bringing all of your attention to each word until you can sense its meaning in your heart and even in your body, and then proceed to the next. As an example, you can nurture this practice with a simple morning prayer—
“Modeh ani l’fanecha, ruach chai v’kayam” — Grateful am I before you, living and eternal spirit” — or “Elohai neshama shenatata bi tehorah hi” — “My God, the soul that you have given me is pure.”
Slow down enough to feel the essence of every single word. Notice the impact it has on your mind, and on your heart.
May our practice and our prayers in this watery month of Cheshvan allow all that transpired in the high holidays to soak deeply into our beings, so that we can embody and nourish the seeds of our intentions for the year ahead.
