At the recent Vaad HaRabbonim meeting that heralded the opening of Shuls, my dear friend and esteemed friend, Rabbi Nesanel Kostelitz, encouraged the attendees to look at a fascinating idea expressed in the commentary of Rav Manoach Hendel, in his Chochmas Manoach, on the Gemara in Brachos 6a.

Abba Binyamin said: One’s prayer is only fully heard in a Bais HaKnesses (synagogue), as it is stated, לשמוע אל הרנה והתפילה, “listen to the song and the prayer”(מלכים ח כח)  - in a place of song, there prayer should be.

Apparently, our prayers are only fully heard within the walls of a Shul. Rav Hendel wonders whether this implies that all the numerous prayers we may have uttered outside of Shul are totally void and null? He quotes from the famed thirteenth century mystic, Rabbi Yosef Gikatilla, in his work Shaarei Orah,  who says that the acceptance of all those tefillos prayed in isolation will be determined by the nature and intent of how that individual prays when he finally returns to the Bais HaKnesses. If one prays properly with the community in Shul, it will carry those which were said individually or without intent.

What is the logic behind this remarkable idea? How does it rectify the deficiency of praying alone?

This theory of Abba Binyamin is derived from the sentiment expressed by King Solomon that emphasizes the acceptance of תפילה, prayer, accompanied with רנה, song. ‘Song’ somehow alludes to the experience of communal prayer.

Rashi elaborates on this point by stating: Within a Shul the community joins in singing songs and praises, בנעימת קול ערב, with a pleasant and sweet voice.

What makes this place uniquely suited to its prayers being accepted is the fact that we pleasantly sing there in unison.

Is that all? It is not the intense prayers of the High Holidays, nor the focused silent Amidah we do collectively. It is the joyous song we sing on key that guarantees our prayers will be heard.

How are we to understand this?

Moshe is frustrated with Korach’s dissatisfaction with his role.

“Is it not enough for you... to perform the service of the Tabernacle of G-d, ולעמוד לפני העדה לשרתם, and to stand before the assembly to minister to them?” (במדבר טז ט)  

Rashi enlightens us by asserting this ‘standing before the assembly’, refers to their ‘singing on the platform.’

The Holy Sochatchover in his seminal work, Shem MiShmuel, asks why is this ‘choir singing’ called ‘standing before the assembly’, weren’t they singing to G-d, not to the people?

He goes on to explain that the Levites who were emotionally connected to the people are to serve as the medium by which the people would be aroused to a greater love of G-d through their inspired message conveyed in their enthused singing.

Song is an expression of inner emotional connection that can ignite those one is bonded to, towards aspiring for a deeper bond with G-d. (קרח תרע"ד)

Moshe took Korach to task for forsaking that sacred mission to elevate and connect the nation emotionally, trading it for selfish personal promotion.

Perhaps this is what Abba Binyomin sought to convey. When we join our souls emotionally together, in a display of authentic unity in striving together in coming closer to G-d, that is the power that projects our tefillos on high.

The Saintly Radomsker, in his Tiferes Shlomo, interprets the verse in Shir HaShirim, where G-d lovingly appeals to us, השמיעני את קולך כי קולך עָרֵב,  let me hear your voice, for your voice is pleasant,  translating the word ערב, alternately as a guarantor, with G-d admiring our taking responsibility for one another, praying for each other’s needs and welfare.

Let me hear your voice, G-d asserts, because you care for each other, for there is nothing sweeter to My ears.

The beautiful harmony of sweet singing voices is only as meaningful when it reflects a greater harmony of souls connected so exquisitely.

That I believe is the profundity within Rav Yosef Gikatilla’s assertion. Despite our having been isolated and separated from one another while we prayed, if we return and reveal how deep our bonds truly are, how authentic our caring for one another is, then evidently even while we were apart we were connected, our prayers were united, revealing the power of the Tzibbur - the community, we possessed all along.

I recently read a very touching story, appearing in the Yated, involving two of my former Rabbeim, who are no longer with us.

Rav Chaim Leib HaLevi Epstein, and Rav Shmuel HaKohen Miller, two great Roshei Yeshiva, who I was fortunate to learn under when I attended Yeshiva of Eastern Parkway many years ago, were both good old friends, having been privileged to be numbered as talmidim of the great Gaon, Rav Aharon Kotler.

Rav Chaim Epstein passed away five years ago. Before Pesach of this year, his children received a letter, addressed to all of them, with a check enclosed for four hundred dollars, with the letter explaining that this was for damages incurred to their father’s car, for them to now share, and signed by Rav Shmuel Miller.

After some investigation they discovered that over forty years prior, Rav Shmuel had borrowed Rav Chaim’s car and suspected that he may have unwittingly damaged it, although it was never confirmed that he did. Despite having offered to pay for the damages then, Rav Chaim refused to accept it. For years, the matter weighed heavily upon Rav Shmuel’s heart, and he felt compelled to finally bring closure to the story. One of Rav Chaim’s sons called Rav Miller on behalf of all his siblings, to inform him that they wholeheartedly have all formally forgiven the debt.

Rav Shmuel went on to share his feelings on why he felt the need to insist on paying.

“Now, because of the corona virus, Klal Yisroel is set apart and we do not have the power of a Tzibbur - community, because we cannot daven together. However, if everyone works on the Ahavas Yisroel, love for their fellow Jew, Klal Yisroel will become more b’Achdus - united, and we will in fact have the koach haTzibbur - the strength of the community, that way.”

These two giants of the spirit were not only renowned for their greatness in Torah and fierce loyalty to our Mesorah, but equally so for their exquisite middos and selfless devotion and unconditional love for their students and their fellow Jews.

As we return to our Shuls may we take this poignant lesson to heart, by becoming more sensitive, more attentive, more devoted, and more loving to one another. If we do, we will transform all those lonely and heartfelt prayers we expressed so desperately these past three months, into a magnificent and beautiful symphony of expression of love for Hashem.

May the Almighty accede to Shlomo HaMelech’s appeal that He “listen to the song and the prayer”, conferring us good health, much nachas, and the final redemption.

באהבה,

צבי יהודה טייכמאן