Saturday Morning Service

ברכות השחר - Birkhot HaShahar - Morning Blessings

We start by connecting to our bodies, reciting fifteen one line blessings that were originally part of each individual’s at-home morning routine before they got incorporated into the synagogue service. Each of them expresses gratitude for a small, daily miracle, like opening our eyes, being able to stand up straight, having clothing to wear, the ability to distinguish day from night. As we’re reciting these blessings, we start to become aware of all of the things that had to work in order for us to make it to this moment. 

פסוקי דזמרא - Pesukei D'Zimra - Verses of Song

The next section of the service is about warming up our hearts through song. It’s a series of psalms, many of which are sung, with the goal of helping us to open to feel a sense of joy, celebration, and appreciation for the beauty of this moment and for the world that we inhabit. When was the last time you actually stopped to look at the trees outside of your house, or notice the creatures that make their home with you in your neighborhood? 

We chant Ashrei (Psalm 145) and Halleluyah (Psalm 150) as well as Shirat HaYam/the Song at the Sea in this part of the service.

שמע וברכותיה - Shema u'Virkhoteha - The Shema and her Blessings

This next section is about engaging our minds and reminding ourselves of some of the core truths that we often forget: 

• We are part of a world which is being recreated anew, every single day. (Yotzer Or)

• We are loved endlessly. (Ahavah Rabbah)

• Underneath all of this seeming disjointedness, there is an underlying unity to all existence. (Shema)

• Oppression and slavery are not the end of the story - ultimately, liberation is possible for our people and all peoples (Mi Chamocha).

One of my teachers, Rabbi Sharon Brous of IKAR, writes this about the Shema:

“Speak of these things when you sit at home and when you walk on the way, when you lie down and when you rise up.” (From the V’ahavta)

What does it mean to live a religious life? To carry with us the consciousness of God, our Jewishness, and our responsibilities in the world, all the time. Elliot Dorff reads this line from Deuteronomy as a merism, a Biblical literary device in which two ends of a spectrum are identified, and everything in between is implicitly included. When do we live like mensches, bring love, holiness, and kindness into the world? When we are at home and on the road, when we lie down and when we rise up, and every moment in between. Our work is to feel the connection articulated in Shema not only for a brief moment each morning and night, but during every waking moment of the day.

I believe this is a great spiritual challenge: to strive to be consistently conscientious, consistently humble, consistently awake. It’s not only about what we experience during our periodic visits to synagogue - it’s about the way that we experience God, our community, humanity on the days in between. The point of services is to inspire the connection, to help make us more responsive to the voice of God, and the spark of the Divine in every human encounter. It has to be about the people we are when it’s no longer Shabbat - when we’re in our homes, and when we’re out on the freeway, when we’re in the office, and when we’re in the supermarket. If our sense of jewish connectedness, our feelings of gratitude, inspiration, and humility only exist during the few hours that we’re sitting in services, we miss the point entirely.

תפילת העמידה - Amidah - Standing before the One

After almost an hour of words, words, words, there is finally a space in the service where words fail. We come into the Presence of Something Greater than ourselves, and the words can’t do it justice. The community begins the Amidah together, calling on our ancestors Abraham, Isaac, Jacob, Sarah, Rebecca, Rachel and Leah, invoking the chain of spiritual ancestors that came before us and will live on after us. We rise up onto our toes during the Kedusha, lifting up higher and higher in an embodied moment of self-transcendence, and then - total silence. 

So what am I supposed to do when everything goes quiet? 

There are words in the siddur for this, too - but I want to challenge you to use this moment to say something that is true for you. It doesn’t have to be fancy. Some of the most honest prayers that have ever come out of my lips have sounded like this: 

“Please, I need some help.” 

“Be with me.” 

“Show me your path.” 

“Sending healing.” 

Often, just by allowing yourself to get quiet and to stand still, the right words will come to you with little to no effort at all. 

Hallel - Celebration

On Rosh Hodesh (the new month) and many Jewish holidays, a set of psalms called “Hallel” is recited, taking us higher and higher to that next level of ecstatic joy. The essence of Hallel is encapsulated in these lines: 

Min hameitzar, karati Yah, anani vamerhav Yah. 
From the narrow place I have called out to You; You have answered me with expansiveness.

Hodu ladonai ki tov, ki l’olam hasdo.
Give thanks to God for this goodness, for your love is everlasting.

It’s a moment for recognizing the narrow places that we’ve traveled through - some that we’re still in the midst of - and also for voicing gratitude for all of the goodness that has sustained us, moment to moment, through those hard periods of life.