The
beginning of Lawrence Hoffman's Sacred Myths chapter really made me think: “a
human desire to see ourselves as the continuers of a heritage that surpasses
our own meager immediate life-space.” The Jews, generation by generation,
choose to categorize themselves as more than an individual. They make
themselves seem, by continuing past practicing and engaging in heritage
activities that recall what has come before them, to be more even than a
generation. It is as if they are representing their generation as a whole and
whether they continue the “correct” Jewish way of life and worship or not.
I
think it is interesting that Hoffman talks about how it is vital to continue
heritage, but, on the other hand, it is brave to go in directions other than
the old way of doing things. This gives a believer a unique path of worship as
well as independence.
Generations
upon generations have prayed. Not only that, but you can pray for others, those
who are less fortunate, and your religious community as a whole. Over the last
three years, I have been more and more aware of my actions. There has been a corresponding
rise in the amount of my prayer. This is my reality. I am grateful to be alive
and have a higher power to thank for that and serve. This brings me back to
Jewish prayers and religious events that allow believers to give thanks and
express their desire to serve.
In
my own personal experiences, prayer really works for some people but does not
for others. This does not necessarily mean that if you are not praying you are
not upholding your religion or beliefs. I myself consider myself a Christian
but I do not pray every single day. While I sometimes feel badly about this, I
understand that my prayer functions within my faith differently than others. It
does not lessen my stance as a Christian.
Prayer
often revolves around what someone is living: his or her reality. What is good
or bad is different for everybody. Hoffman also states that a prayer “is
exposed . . . as having a certain origin, a response to Roman persecution, let
us say,” so a prayer holds a meaning for a reason. What you have gone through
is often what you derive your prayer from. I believe this is a good thing; it
allows people to have something to fall back on: hope. This examination of prayer
ties into the desire of what you hope for.
Nice observations about prayer, Matt. But Hoffman also talks a lot about myth in this essay, and suggest that midrash might play some role in "activating" myth in prayer. I think a crucial aspect of prayer is exactly what you say: "Prayer often revolves around what someone is living: his or her reality." Prayer contextualizes what's happening in our lives as it happens within the important myths we live by. It can be as simple as an "evening" or "morning" prayer that acknowledges the daily natural cycle of day turning into night and night turning into day, and if the words of our prayer allude to the story of God creating day and night, light and darkness, the prayer is in effect a midrash, applying a scripture (and the myth implied in it) to our subjective, emotional experience of nightfall or daybreak. Hoffman speaks more specifically how the myth of the Exodus story is activated in the prayers of the Passover seder, in which the forms of the some "prayers" are literally the literary forms of midrash, but the big point is still the same. These midrashim about redemption (that has has happened and that we're still awaiting) suggest there's a pattern of redemption in history, and so if we're at a particular moment in our lives when when we're feeling a bit iffy about current circumstances, let's say living under what appears to be an autocratic and malignantly narcissistic ruler imposiing laws we fear will hurt us and our friends, if we allude to the myth of God redeeming us from a heart-hardened Pharaoh in our prayers, "this we recall to mind, and therefore we have have hop[e," to paraphrase the Scriptural verse from the boook of Lamentations in another midrash we learned.
ReplyDelete