Showing posts with label Tefillah: Kavvanah. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Tefillah: Kavvanah. Show all posts

Monday, September 17, 2018

Davening, Fast and Slow (Derashah for Yom Kippur 5779)

Here is my current draft; feedback (especially before Yom Kippur!) wanted...



I’d like to dedicate my derashah this morning in memory of Ari Fuld, HY”D. I was in school with Ari, and his older brother Donny. As most of you know, Ari was murdered this week by a terrorist in the Gush. That’s how he died; at the end of the derashah, I’ll have more to say about how he lived.

Thinking, Fast and Slow
In a 2011 study, researchers reviewed parole decisions by Israeli judges.[1] They found that judges who had just returned from a food break approved about 65% of parole requests. That percentage dropped in the ensuing hours, to the point that rulings just before the next food break rejected almost all parole requests. Then, after the food break, they went right back to 65%.
Another study, this one out of MIT in 2006.[2] They asked students and executives to participate in an auction. For each item, they asked the participants to first record the last two digits of their social security numbers as though that was their bid. Then they asked them to enter an actual bid. Believe it or not – people with higher social security digits bid up to 346% more than those with lower numbers. For example: On a cordless keyboard, the people with digits between 00 and 19 bid an average of $16; those with digits between 80 and 99 bid an average of $56.
Educated, experienced judges; students and executives at MIT! How could they be so easily influenced by appetite, and irrelevant numbers?
Starting about twenty years ago, Professors Amos Tversky and Daniel Kahnemann[3] sought to explain these and other cognitive slips by pointing to research[4] which shows that our brains consume more energy than most other parts of the body. As Kahnemann wrote, “When you are actively involved in difficult cognitive reasoning or engaged in a task that requires self-control, your blood glucose level drops.” (I don’t know how many calories you burn by listening to this derashah, but I know I burned a lot of them composing it.)
In 2002, Kahnemann won the Nobel Prize for his work, which enshrined in scientific history something we all intuited in high school: Concentration uses energy; therefore, our brains avoid doing it. To the extent possible, we get by with what Kahnemann calls shallow “System 1” thinking, using approximations of the world around us and loose methods of problem-solving, to conserve energy. Only when forced to concentrate, such as due to a sense of danger, do we go to the more thorough, intense and precise “System 2” thinking.
This is why the parole decisions become more negative as the judges’ blood sugar drops; it’s easier to be machmir. And this is why the MIT bidders were influenced by entering random digits before bidding – they didn’t focus carefully, and so they were subliminally influenced by the social security digits they entered.

Davening, Fast and Slow
Kahnemann’s insight regarding thinking is important beyond behavioural economics; here in this room, and all around the BAYT, we can observe a related phenomenon – System 1 Davening and System 2 Davening.
From the vantage point of Torah and halachah, System 2 davening is the goal – an intense religious experience. But more often, we are like the Israeli judges and MIT bidders. Witness the passage from the Talmud Yerushalmi[5] in which one sage admitted, “When I stand in Shemoneh Esreih, I count birds.” Another acknowledged, “I count the bricks in the wall!" And a third confessed, "I'm grateful for my head, because when I arrive at Modim it bows on its own", even if I'm not thinking about the words! As Tosafot[6] said, even our greatest sages have had trouble concentrating for davening.
But what can we do about this? Today is a landmark opportunity to ask Hashem for a clean slate, how can we avoid falling into the automated System 1?

Medical answers
There are some great solutions for the problem of System 1 thinking; Professor Pat Croskerry from Dalhousie has done remarkable work in teaching doctors how to avoid System 1 pitfalls when seeing patients.[7] But these methods are hard to apply in the middle of the day on Yom Kippur. One step, for example, is to be well-fed to avoid the low blood-sugar phenomenon… good luck with that today. So what can we do now, right here?[8]

The Importance of Emotion
One answer may be to turn to an aspect of our personalities which is more powerful than our thoughts: Our emotions.

Psychologists and philosophers have long debated the role of emotions; already in 1890, American philosopher William James wrote that he was tired of the efforts in the field, and would prefer to listen to “verbal descriptions of the shapes of the rocks on a New Hampshire farm” rather than read papers on the role of emotions.[9] But I think a key element suggested by evolutionary biologists is useful here: our emotions are activated when issues of survival are raised.[10] Our intellect solves problems; our emotions help us survive.

Because our intellects aren’t always alert to the stakes and threats at hand, we fall into System 1 thinking, or System 1 davening. But when circumstances trigger fear or love or anger or sympathy, that overpowers the intellect, energizing us, stimulating our nervous system, our endocrine system, our circulatory system, and forcing us to focus.

Further – the more vital an emotion, the more intense the sense that survival is at stake, the greater the power to command our attention. Rabbi Yosef Dov haLevi Soloveitchik[11] made this point; he described a man in pursuit of an aveirah so sweet, so desirable, that he steamrolls his intellect in pursuit of the opportunity. But on the way to his rendezvous, as he races across a frozen lake, his foot slips – and suddenly, the thunderclap of fear for his life overwhelms all that he had been feeling a moment earlier and grabs the reins ; the more vital the emotion, the tighter its grip.

Applying this to our tefillah and teshuvah
This is how we can break out of System 1 davening – by summoning vital emotions which compel our concentration.

  •     Music can summon those emotions; 900 years ago, Rabbi Yehudah haChasid[12] wrote that when we daven we should find tunes which will draw our minds into rhythm with the words we are saying, whether they are psalms of thanksgiving or anguished pleas. I find certain tunes do this for me; I say almost none of the piyutim in the repetition of the amidah, but I try to sing וכל מאמינים and כי אנו עמך, because the memories they evoke for me summon tears of hope and joy which, for me, are life itself.
  •     A memory of an emotional experience can do it. Over a century ago, the Piaseczner Rebbe, Rav Kalonymus Kalman Schapira, was approached by young men who wished to refine their personal spirituality. In response, he wrote a book called בני מחשבה טובה, and in that book[13] he counseled that whenever we become excited, whenever we feel extreme joy or love or sorrow or fear, we commit those feelings to memory, and then we call forth those feelings when we are ready to perform mitzvot, and to daven. For me, I can call forth the image of my mother giving me a berachah before Yom Kippur.
  •     Recalling a loved one can do it. Moments ago, people recited Yizkor and remembered relatives who have passed on – the emotions those relatives summon in our hearts are valuable, too. And for those of us with the good fortune to be able to step out for Yizkor – we can still think of people like Ari Fuld הי"ד. Ari’s widow, entering Yom Kippur without him. Ari’s four children. Ari’s parents.

If low blood sugar and exhaustion undermine our concentration, then let us jumpstart our emotions – with a tune, with a memory, with a loved one, with something which will alert us to the intensity of the moment, the magnitude of the opportunity of כי ביום הזה יכפר עליכם לטהר אתכם [14] to start again with a clean slate. Then we will be able to daven a System 2 davening, with a full heart and a dedicated mind.

Closer
An article about Ari Fuld appeared on Aish.com in 2007;[15] it described his deployment in Lebanon as a paratrooper during the Second Lebanon War. Every day, before heading into battle, his unit would say Viduy, as we will at musaf, minchah and neilah. And one day, 28 kilometers deep in Lebanon, they came under direct attack by Hizballah. Two groups of soldiers fell to rocket fire, and Ari was tasked with leading a group of soldiers to retrieve as many bodies as he could. As he described it, “We left most of our protection behind, and all of our gear. All I had on me were my Tefillin, a book of Psalms, and some other holy writings. Oh -- and bullets. A whole lot of bullets.”
They took just ten steps out of the orchard where they had been hiding, and then they heard a whistle – and seconds later, three missiles landed right where they had been, in the orchard. Ari felt blood coming from him; he had been hit by a piece of a mortar. The medic found that the shrapnel had gone through his protective vest, but had miraculously stopped there – he was safe, for the moment.
When they made it back to Israel, Ari was inspired to take a year off from his career, to devote himself to study Torah. And after the year was over, he turned down financial opportunity, choosing instead to join the staff of Yeshivat Netiv Aryeh. He displayed that mortar shrapnel in his home, beside his kiddush cup and menorah, as a sign of the miracle of his survival.
I tell this story for three reasons:
First: Because I think it’s important that we remember Ari not as yet another casualty, but as a remarkable human being and Jew.
Second: Because by following his inspiration to take time off to learn Torah, Ari demonstrated what we have been talking about – using emotion to override life’s automatic gear and focus our energies.
And third: Because when we say viduy today, we can call the viduy of Ari’s unit to mind, and they can inspire us to abandon System 1 davening, and invest in System 2.

Ari said of the shrapnel he kept, “That warped piece of iron that you're looking at... it looks like a piece of garbage - but that's my miracle.” May his story inspire us to our own miracle, to a day of davening which is not about counting birds, or bricks, or the moments left in the fast, but instead about confronting our deepest truths, connecting with Hashem, admitting and apologizing for our wrongdoing and truly committing ourselves to growth, and so earning a clean slate and a גמר חתימה טובה.




[1] Extraneous Factors in Judicial Decisions, Proceedings of the National Academy of Sciences of the USA,  https://www.ncbi.nlm.nih.gov/pubmed/21482790
[3] See, for example, Thinking, Fast and Slow pg 42
[5] Yerushalmi Berachos 2:4. There are variant explanations of אפרחייא
[6] Tosafot Rosh haShanah 16b and Bava Batra 164b [But see Pnei Moshe (they were distracted by Torah), Pri Tzaddik to Vayyeshev, http://www.temanim.org/shtaygen/dvr_tora/70/2-8.pdf]
[7] See Diagnostic Failure: A Cognitive and Affective Approach and https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=GFE6D5460oE
[8] For my shiur for doctors, see https://www.yutorah.org/lectures/lecture.cfm/902006 Also, my shiur on cognitive bias and teshuvah is at https://www.yutorah.org/lectures/lecture.cfm/906339
[10] For example: Evolutionary Explanations of Emotions, Human Nature 1:3 (1990); The Nature of Emotions, American Scientist 89:4 (2001) https://www.jstor.org/stable/27857503
[11] Beit haLevi to Parshat Yitro
[12] Sefer Chasidim 158
[13] אות ח-יא
[14] Vayikra 17: For on this day Gd will accept your atonement, to purify you

Tuesday, September 8, 2015

The Broken Windows Approach to Kavvanah

"Broken Windows" is a name for a crime-fighting approach which says that society can reduce the overall level of severe crime if it takes action against the initial steps of lighter crime - vandalism, for example. You can see more information about it, as well as criticism, here.

I have found that the same approach helps with my continual search for greater kavvanah (focus) in my davening (prayer). There are initial steps that begin the distraction, and if I can catch those and halt/prevent them, I am more likely to succeed in davening as I wish.

Examples of "broken windows":
1. The first moment when a voice in my head says, "Have you taken care of..." or "What will you do about...". (When possible, I jot down the subject on a piece of paper, enabling me to dismiss it without fear of forgetting it.)

2. Having a distracting object in my line of sight. (See Shulchan Aruch Orach Chaim 90:23.)

3. Walking around while davening.

4. Coming into davening as it starts (or later).

5. Engaging in a serious conversation right before davening. (Yes, this is already identified as a problem in the fifth chapter of Berachot. For that matter, so is #4.)

6. Learning Torah during davening. (See my Chocolate Chip Pizza post here.)

7. Telling someone, "I'll speak with you right after davening." (cf. Rabbi Preida on Eruvin 54b.)

Does this resonate? What "broken windows" would you add?


Wednesday, June 19, 2013

Chocolate Chip Pizza



Even though our Beit Midrash publishes a weekly dvar torah bulletin, which we make as interest-grabbing as we can with a range of special features, nonetheless, I am against learning Torah, reading parshah sheets and otherwise engaging in study during davening. During the breaks between aliyot, perhaps [for what is kriat haTorah if not communal Torah study], but not during davening.

This is not about halachic issues related to learning Torah during the repetition of the amidah; my point is spiritual, not technical, and it's about the entirety of davening, from Modeh Ani to Adon Olam.

The other day, I found the following metaphor to explain this to my children:

Imagine that you are a chef, and you prepare dough for pizza, and you slather on tomato sauce.

Then you decide that it would be wonderful to have chocolate chip cookies, and so you add chocolate chips.

Then, reverting to pizza-making mode, you put on cheese, but then you add the vanilla needed for cookies, and you mix it all together.

Then you cut it into small balls and put it on trays in the oven.

The result: Chocolate Chip Pizza. And while I love pizza, and I love chocolate chip cookies, I'm not having any chocolate chip pizza.

The same is true during davening. Davening to HaShem is great. Learning Torah is great. But mixing them together is self-destructive; the davening lacks emotional commitment, and the learning lacks focus and concentration. Neither is successful; the result is trash, a waste of time and resources.

I admit that I will look to learn something if the chazan is dragging on for so long that I cannot focus on davening anyway. Absent that, though, learning plus davening equals Chocolate Chip Pizza, and I'm not interested.

Wednesday, October 19, 2011

Life is a Verb

No, this isn't a self-help column or a motivational speech; it's just a brief note on "Baruch she'Amar", the opening blessing of the "psukei d'zimra" collection of psalms and passages from Tanach recited each morning.

The blessing's first half reads:
Blessed is the One who spoke and the world existed
Blessed is He.
Blessed is the One who performs "In the beginning"
Blessed is the One who speaks and performs
Blessed is the One who decrees and fulfills
Blessed is the One who acts with mercy upon the land
Blessed is the One who acts with mercy upon the creatures
Blessed is the One who pays good reward to those who are in awe of Him
Blessed is the One who lives forever and exists eternally
Blessed is the One who redeems and rescues
Blessed is His Name.

As is true for much of psukei d'zimra, I find it easy to become numb to the meaning of each individual line – but picking out a line and focussing on it can help me find new meaning each day. Some time back, the 9th line, "Blessed is the One who lives forever and exists eternally", caught my eye, because it doesn’t fit the overall structure.

I have two questions:
1. The rest of the lines describe Divine actions; is "lives" really an action?
2. The rest of the lines describe things Gd does on behalf of the universe; how is Divine existence an action taken on behalf of the universe?

Here's what I have come up with (and, of course, a note in my siddur hints to this, as a reminder when I say Baruch she'Amar each day):

Life implies action. To live is not merely to exist, to inhale and exhale (for us air-breathers, anyway). To live is to act. So, for example, Torah is described as עץ חיים, a Tree of Life, not in that it provides continued existence but in the sense that it fuels (positive) action. This answers the first question.

And then answering the second question: For Gd to live means for Gd to act – on our behalf, in all of the ways listed here, creating life and decreeing and acting with mercy and rewarding. And the emphasis is upon the eternity of it because this immortality guarantees that all of these actions will persist in the future, throughout human existence.

Blessed is the One who lives forever and exists eternally – who acts, and will continue to act, for us all.

And the take-away beyond davening, for me, goes into traditional "self-help" territory but it still worthwhile – Is my life a verb? Am I cycling air, or am I doing?...

Tuesday, October 11, 2011

Write in your siddur

I always write in my sefarim, all of them. I recently suggested to a class that they write in their Tanach's, and was rewarded with expressions of shock – but I believe that most of us need to write in order to remember, and what better place than in the sefer from which we learn?

But that's not the subject of this post. Here, I'm expanding on a suggestion I made in the derashah here, that we should write in our siddurim, to help ourselves focus.

It's a way to corral ourselves during our distracted moments, and draw ourselves back.
It's a way to personalize our davening, by highlighting elements that matter to us.
It's a way to remember the items that catch our eye or ear and inspire us once, for the next time we daven.

So here's what I do:

I underline key words and phrases that I want to have special meaning, to ensure that I think when I get there.
Example: The word ואהבת ("And you shall love HaShem your Gd") in Shma. בכל יום אברכך ("I will praise You daily") in Ashrei. והשב את העבודה לדביר ביתך ("Return the service to Your home") in the amidah. The verbs in Psalm 100 (Mizmor l'Todah).

I make notations to call attention to interesting structural/poetic elements.
Examples: The Heaven/Earth contrast in Psalm 148 (aka "the third Hallelukah"), the thematic sets of lines in Avinu Malkeinu, and the Personal/Communal/Global sets in Ashrei.

I add reminders.
Examples: "מצות עשה (This fulfills a commandment)" before Shma, or circling רפאנו (the first word of the blessing for healing in the amidah).

I write in food for thought.
Examples: In תקע בשופר (the blessing for redemption in the Amidah) I have a question mark which reminds me to think about the difference between the roles of a שופר and a נס. In the first pre-Shma blessing in Shacharit, I note Rav Kook's thought from Orot on the link between Gd as "master of wars" and "seeder of justice".

I'm sure there's a lot more people could do with this. What would you add? Or are you horrified by the whole concept?

Tuesday, March 22, 2011

In Gd's Name

[Post I read a short while ago: Pre-Purim Kosher Beer List at Kosher Beers]

When I was a synagogue rabbi, I had to deal with my own serious desensitization to the space of a shul – after all, I was in there all the time, whether for prayer or to prepare the room or to check the lighting or to roll a Torah or to teach or to look at whether the vents really did blow cold air too strongly on X's seat or whatever.

In order to preserve the special meaning that I felt should come with standing in shul, I followed the laws regarding not entering the room unnecessarily, and not using the space inappropriately, but I also tried to take special note of every time I entered and exited that room. The idea was that each visit should be significant.

Some time last year I tried to apply the same principle to the challenge of prayer. The specific challenge: The sages speak of the importance of invoking Gd’s Name without proper concentration (such as in Shulchan Aruch Orach Chaim 5, and see Shut Nishmas Chaim 11), but we invoke Gd’s Name so many times in the course of our thrice-daily prayer, as well as in the random and regular blessings that dot the day’s schedule, that I find myself numb to the Name and its meaning, especially as a million thoughts crowd into my head.

So I tried an experiment: I numbered the Names. In my siddur [prayer book], in certain portions, I numbered the Names of Gd as they appeared. I stuck with the four-letter י-ק-ו-ק, for simplicity’s sake. 18 in Yhi Chvod, 10 in Ashrei, 20 in the five הללוקה paragraphs (Tehillim 146-150), 29 in the body of the Amidah, and so on.

The idea was simply to make myself take notice every time I saw a number in my siddur, but along the way I noticed some other interesting points, including: That King David’s Tehillim are עניים במקום אחד ועשירים במקום אחר, including many iterations of Gd’s Name in certain chapters (like #146) and relatively few in others (like #148). That the Sages were less likely to include Gd’s Name in their poetry than King David was in his. That the Name itself plays a poetic role in certain places. And so on.

Of course, after a time that which was new becomes old, and by now I need new ‘tricks’ to keep myself in line. But this was effective for a time, and perhaps it will help others to develop methods of their own.

Sunday, June 13, 2010

How do you improve your Kavvanah [concentration]?

[This week's Haveil Havalim is here]

I feel like I must have posted on this issue in the past, but I can't find it, other than my post back here on "Why use a siddur" and this set of posts about various aspects of the davening experience.

Some years ago I staffed an NCSY program in which a teenager acted out davening the amidah, interrupted occasionally by a voice-over that interjected what he was actually thinking. Something along the lines of “Bareich aleinu… I wonder who won the game last night… Wish I could have gone, but I was stuck working on that project… Sally could have helped me with that project… I wonder if Sally’s sister likes me… Did I remember to say v’ten tal umatar?”

It’s so easy to get distracted, particularly in the altogether too one-sided conversation that is davening. Here I am saying the same words as yesterday, saying some of those words thrice daily, in a monologue, and it’s hard to retain concentration. Even though I can and do add, that doesn’t change the fact that many of the words are repeated into the ether entirely too often.

The gemara is filled with harsh comments about this sort of rote prayer – העושה תפלתו קבע אין תפלתו תחנונים (One who makes his prayers ‘fixed’ is not reciting an acceptable prayer) is but one example.

So what’s a Jew to do? [Assuming he won't go entirely creative in the liturgy, 'cause I won't.]

Approaches I’ve seen include using a different siddur for a change, changing one’s seat in shul, learning more about the davening, and keeping pictures of the loved ones for whom we are davening.

A few months back I encountered one way to help me re-focus. While at a local shul I opened up a siddur to find stamped in it, right before Sh’ma, something along the lines of, “Remember! You are about to perform a mitzvah!”

On the one hand, that was a bit jarring. On the other hand, it was exactly what I needed. I always write in my books as I learn, and I do make notes in my siddur as well, so perhaps I should make a little note at those points where halachah requires special focus. Or at those points that don’t require special focus, for that matter.

Another tactic that I often find works is to pick random lines for greater concentration.

Another tactic is to focus on the lines that immediately precede the parts of davening for which halachah requires the greatest concentration. So for Ashrei, for example, I focus on the line – עיני כל אליך ישברו – that precedes the פותח את ידיך line, since halachah requires greater focus on the latter line.

What else works for you? What tricks do you have for keeping your mind on davening? [Isaac: I’ll put this question up on mi.yodeya.com, too, for good measure…]