Shulchan Arukh, Orach Chayim 115:1-117:1

Hook

How do we, as individuals, hold our personal hopes, needs, and spiritual longings while simultaneously committing to a collective destiny, especially when that collective destiny involves the complexities and challenges of a modern nation-state like Israel? Jewish tradition, through its intricate dance between the singular and plural in prayer, offers a profound lens into this tension. It asks us to consider: is my prayer for rain, for healing, for understanding, purely my own, or is it always, implicitly, a prayer for "us"? This ancient question resonates deeply in our contemporary pro-Israel discourse, where individual identities, diverse visions for the state, and a shared sense of peoplehood constantly negotiate their space. The challenge, and indeed the hope, lies in recognizing that our strength as a people, and as a nation, emerges from the productive tension between these two poles – the personal and the communal.

Text Snapshot

From Shulchan Arukh, Orach Chayim 115:1-117:1:

"Since humanity's advantage over animals is understanding and intellect, they established the blessing of 'Ata Chonein' as the first of the [the Amidah's] middle [blessings] since if we do not have understanding, there is no [capacity for] prayer." (115:1)

"Even though a verse that is written in the singular may not be modified to the plural [i.e. like the beginning words of this blessing which in Jeremiah 17:14 is written in the singular 'heal me'] - this applies in the case when it was intended to be recited [as a verse], but when one says it in the context of a prayer or a request, it is permitted [to modify it]." (116:1)

"[Regarding] the Blessing of the Years: In the rainy season, one must say in [the blessing] - 'And give dew and rain'... And in the land of Israel we start to ask [for rain] from the night of 7 Marcheshvan... And even a large city such as Nin'veh or one whole land such as S'pharad [Spain] in its entirety or Ashkenaz [Germany] in its entirety - they are considered as individuals [and should ask] in 'Shomeya Tefilla'." (117:1-2)

Context

Date

The Shulchan Arukh (Code of Jewish Law) was authored by Rav Yosef Karo (1488-1575) in the city of Safed, then part of the Ottoman Empire, and first published in 1563. This text, along with the glosses of Rav Moshe Isserles (Rema) (c. 1520-1572) of Poland, became the most widely accepted codification of Jewish law for Ashkenazi and Sephardi communities worldwide. The various commentaries cited (Tur, Turei Zahav, Ba'er Hetev, Mishnah Berurah, etc.) span centuries, from earlier medieval sources (Tur, Rosh, Ramban, Ran) to later authorities, demonstrating a continuous conversation and refinement of Jewish legal thought over generations.

Actor

The primary actor is Rav Yosef Karo, a towering figure of Jewish legal scholarship and mysticism. His monumental work synthesized centuries of halakhic debate, providing a practical, authoritative guide for Jewish life. However, the Shulchan Arukh is not a static declaration; it builds upon the Tur (Arba'ah Turim) by Rabbeinu Yaakov ben Asher (14th century) and is constantly in dialogue with earlier authorities like the Talmud, Geonim, and Rishonim (e.g., Rambam, Rosh, Ran). The numerous commentaries, from the immediate glosses of the Rema to later works like the Mishnah Berurah (late 19th/early 20th century), show that the Shulchan Arukh is less a fixed decree and more a dynamic conversation, reflecting diverse practices and evolving interpretations across different communities and eras.

Aim

The Shulchan Arukh's ultimate aim is to provide clarity and uniformity in Jewish practice. It distills complex Talmudic discussions and intricate rabbinic rulings into an accessible, actionable code. In this specific section (Orach Chayim 115-117), the focus is on the order and specific phrasing of the middle blessings of the Amidah (the central standing prayer), particularly "Ata Chonein" (knowledge), "Refa'einu" (healing), and "Birkat HaShanim" (blessing for years/rain). The goal is to ensure that individuals and communities pray correctly, understand the theological underpinnings of their prayers, and navigate the nuanced interplay of communal versus individual needs, especially concerning the critical petition for rain, which directly impacts sustenance and life. The accompanying commentaries further elaborate on the spiritual significance and proper intention (kavvanah) for these prayers, connecting them to deeper principles of Jewish thought.

Two Readings

The Collective Imperative of Jewish Peoplehood: Our Shared Destiny

This reading of the Shulchan Arukh and its associated commentaries emphasizes the profound and inescapable collective dimension of Jewish life and prayer. From its very structure, Jewish prayer, even when recited individually, is deeply embedded within the framework of Klal Yisrael—the entire Jewish people. The text opens with "Ata Chonein" (You grace humanity with knowledge), noting its placement as the first of the Amidah's middle blessings because "if we do not have understanding, there is no [capacity for] prayer." This can be understood not just as an individual prerequisite for spiritual engagement, but as a communal one. A people lacking collective wisdom, moral clarity, and shared purpose cannot truly pray, cannot truly thrive. The very act of seeking knowledge is a communal endeavor, passed down through generations, shaping a shared consciousness and guiding a collective path.

This collective imperative is most vividly illustrated in the discussion of the blessing for rain ("Birkat HaShanim"). The Shulchan Arukh explicitly states: "In the land of Israel we start to ask [for rain] from the night of 7 Marcheshvan." This establishes a uniform, communal practice tied to the specific climate and agricultural cycle of the Land of Israel. The prayer for rain is not merely a personal wish for a good harvest, but a collective plea for the sustenance and prosperity of the entire land and its inhabitants. The Tur and Mishnah Berurah further reinforce this communal lens by highlighting the use of "Avinu" (Our Father) in the blessings of "Hashiveinu" (Bring us back) and "S'lach Lanu" (Forgive us). The Tur explains: "What they saw in establishing 'Avinu' in the blessing of 'Hashiveinu' and 'S'lach Lanu,' unlike other blessings, is that we remind Him that a father is obligated to teach his son... and in 'S'lach Lanu' because it is written, 'and he will return to God and He will have mercy on him,' therefore we mention the father's mercy on the son." The Ateret Zekenim adds, "because a father is obligated to teach his son Torah." This "father-son" relationship is not just an individual one, but a profound metaphor for God's relationship with the collective Jewish people, emphasizing a shared heritage, a collective responsibility for Torah, and a communal plea for mercy and return. When we say "Avinu," we are not just my Father, but Our Father, deeply connecting the individual supplicant to the entire family of Israel, past, present, and future.

Furthermore, the Shulchan Arukh explicitly permits modifying a singular verse to the plural in prayer, as seen in "Heal us, O God, and we shall be healed," transforming the original "Heal me" (Jeremiah 17:14) into a communal plea. This seemingly minor halakhic detail carries profound theological weight: even our most personal cries for healing are to be framed within the context of collective well-being. My health is intertwined with the health of my community, my people, and ultimately, all humanity. This deeply embedded sense of peoplehood is a foundational aspect of Zionism—the idea that individual Jewish flourishing is inextricably linked to the collective destiny and sovereignty of the Jewish people in their ancestral homeland. It underscores the responsibility we bear not just for ourselves, but for the entire community of Israel, a responsibility that is both a burden and a profound privilege.

The Evolving Individual within a Dynamic Collective: Responsive Practice

While the previous reading emphasizes the communal bedrock of Jewish life, this second reading highlights the Shulchan Arukh's nuanced recognition of individual and regional needs within that collective framework. It demonstrates a sophisticated understanding that while a core communal norm exists, Jewish law is also remarkably responsive to diverse circumstances, allowing for a dynamic interplay between the individual and the collective. This flexibility is not a concession but an inherent feature, ensuring that halakha remains relevant and compassionate across varied contexts and allowing for personal spiritual engagement.

The most striking example of this individual (or sub-communal) flexibility comes again from the laws of praying for rain. While the norm for the Land of Israel is fixed, the text explicitly states: "And in the Diaspora we start to ask for rain in the evening prayer of the 60th day after the autumnal equinox." This immediately differentiates the practice for Jews living outside Israel, acknowledging different climates and agricultural needs. Even more pointedly, the Shulchan Arukh allows for further individualization: "The individuals who need rain in the hot season should not ask for it in the Blessing of the Years, but rather in [the blessing of] 'Shomeya Tefilla' ('Who hears prayers'). And even a large city such as Nin'veh or one whole land such as S'pharad [Spain] in its entirety or Ashkenaz [Germany] in its entirety - they are considered as individuals [and should ask] in 'Shomeya Tefilla'." This is a crucial distinction. Even entire regions, when their needs diverge from the communal norm (especially that of Israel), are treated as "individuals" in this regard, allowed to express their specific needs within the more general "Shomeya Tefilla" blessing, rather than the more fixed "Birkat HaShanim." This demonstrates that while there is a collective prayer for the Land of Israel, Jewish law provides avenues for other communities and individuals to articulate their particular needs, showing a balance between uniformity and localized relevance.

This dynamic tension between the collective and the individual is not merely a legal technicality; it reflects a deep theological understanding. The Mishnah Berurah on "Ata Chonein" (knowledge) explains that "this is the essence of the request that a person needs to ask from the Creator... that He should give him straight understanding and knowledge to reject evil and choose good." While this knowledge undoubtedly serves the collective, its acquisition begins with the individual's sincere request and intention. Similarly, the Mishnah Berurah's commentary on "Refa'einu" (healing) notes the "main intention is to ask our God to heal us so that we may be healthy and strong to engage in Torah properly and observe all the commandments." This individual healing, while expressed communally, ultimately serves the individual's capacity for spiritual growth and mitzvah observance.

This reading resonates powerfully with the multifaceted nature of modern Zionism and the State of Israel. While a foundational collective narrative of peoplehood, return, and self-determination underpins the Zionist project, the lived reality of Israel is a vibrant, often contentious, tapestry of diverse individual experiences, political ideologies, and religious expressions. The State of Israel, like the larger Jewish people, must continuously navigate how to foster a strong, unifying collective identity while simultaneously allowing space for individual autonomy, diverse practices, and localized needs. The Shulchan Arukh's flexibility in prayer for rain, for example, suggests a model where the ideal collective aspiration (rain in Israel for the whole people) can coexist with the practical needs of varied communities and individuals, allowing for both a shared purpose and individualized expression within the broader Jewish story. This balance is crucial for a resilient, democratic, and thriving Israel that cherishes both its collective soul and the unique contributions of its citizens.

Civic Move

Cultivating Empathy Through "Our Shared Prayer": A Dialogue Initiative

To bridge the gap between individual and collective perspectives, and to strengthen our understanding of responsibility within the Zionist project, I propose a dialogue initiative called "Our Shared Prayer." This program would bring together diverse individuals who identify as pro-Israel, but who hold varying perspectives on the state's policies, society, and future—from across the political, religious, and cultural spectrums. The core of the initiative would be to engage with Jewish texts, like the Shulchan Arukh passages on individual and communal prayer, as a starting point for deeper personal reflection and respectful dialogue.

The action involves:

Text Study and Personal Reflection

Participants would first engage with texts like the Shulchan Arukh sections discussed, focusing on the tension between singular and plural, and the rules for communal vs. individual needs (e.g., rain prayers). They would be asked to reflect: When do my personal prayers, hopes, or criticisms for Israel feel individual, and when do they feel part of a collective plea? How does my "personal rain" or "personal healing" connect to the "collective rain" or "collective healing" of the Jewish people and the State of Israel?

Narrative Sharing

In facilitated small groups, participants would then share their personal narratives, hopes, and even their points of tension or critique regarding Israel. The prompt would be: "How does your individual story, your personal vision for Israel, fit into our collective story and shared responsibility?" The emphasis would be on active listening and empathetic understanding, rather than debate or persuasion. The goal is to articulate one's own perspective while simultaneously seeking to understand the underlying values and experiences of others, recognizing that each individual's "prayer" (hope/vision) for Israel is legitimate, even if it differs.

Identifying Shared Responsibility

The group would then move to identify areas of shared responsibility, drawing inspiration from the communal aspects of prayer discussed in the texts. For instance, the collective prayer for "understanding" or "healing" can be reinterpreted as a shared responsibility to foster civil discourse, promote justice, or ensure security for all residents of Israel. The conversation would shift from "my hope" to "our shared responsibility to build." This fosters a sense of collective ownership over the challenges and opportunities facing Israel, moving beyond individual blame or despair towards collective action and shared purpose.

Commitment to Dialogue

The initiative would conclude with participants committing to ongoing dialogue, not necessarily to agree, but to continue to engage constructively and empathetically with those who hold different views, recognizing that the strength of the Jewish people and Israel lies in its capacity to hold complexity and integrate diverse voices within a unifying framework of peoplehood and shared destiny.

This "Our Shared Prayer" initiative aims to repair fractured communal discourse by centering peoplehood and mutual responsibility, allowing individuals to voice their authentic experiences while grounding them in a tradition that calls us to both personal reflection and collective action. It acknowledges that a strong spine for Israel requires an open heart towards its diverse people, both within the land and across the globe.

Takeaway

The Shulchan Arukh's meticulous exploration of prayer, particularly its careful navigation of individual and communal needs, offers a timeless lesson for our engagement with modern Israel. It teaches us that Jewish peoplehood is not a monolithic entity that subsumes the individual, nor is it a loose collection of atomized individuals. Rather, it is a dynamic, living organism where individual consciousness (understanding, personal healing) is both essential and constantly interwoven with the collective destiny (communal sustenance, shared redemption, the "Our Father" embrace). Our personal hopes and concerns for Israel are valid and vital, yet they gain profound meaning and potency when understood as part of a larger, ongoing prayer for the well-being of the entire Jewish people and the flourishing of its sovereign state. This deep-seated tradition of balancing personal experience with collective responsibility provides a powerful framework for fostering resilience, empathy, and constructive engagement in the complex, hopeful project of building Israel's future. It reminds us that a strong collective is one that makes space for individual voices, and that individual strength is amplified when rooted in a shared purpose.