In Honor of Judaism and Disabilities Month
A Blessing for Hearing and Thinking
A number of years ago, an eleven year old girl refused to begin her Bat Mitzvah lessons until her parents and I made a plan for the brother’s Bar Mitzvah. Her brother had been confined to a wheel chair all of his life, and was not able to communicate with others in the same way as you and I can. Even though he had a multiple of physical and mental ailments that required constant daily care by his parents, he lacked nothing in relation to the love and devotion shown to him by his family – and especially his sister who wanted nothing less for her brother in regards to this life changing rite of passage. We found a way to honor Jesse’s abilities to feel the texture of the Torah parchment as a recognition of his blessing the Torah by a series of recordings that were triggered by his hand at the appropriate time. It is this Torah that filled his heart, and hours, along with tears of joy at being able to celebrate the joys in life despite his disabilities. As I watched him dance to the music at the reception afterwards, as people hugged him so that he could stand upright and feel the beat of the music, I couldn’t help but imagine how empowered he must have felt on that day, in the same way that he feels empowered on the horse that he rides as a therapeutic exercise each week.
It is this scenario that inspired my connection to INTRA – Israel’s National Therapeutic Riding Association – and what they do to help restore a sense of well-being to the disabled in Israel, along with those who have been traumatized both physically and emotionally by recent events in Israel. Now I have a personal connection to the organization that I have supported financially over the years with sponsorships of Pokie (short for Pocahontas) as gifts to various b’nei mitzvah who have had an interest in horseback riding. My photo of Pokie and me at her stable in Israel is a permanent part of my computer screen. I am indeed humbled for all that she does as a mitzvah horse for those who are disabled, and her gentle manner.
Several years ago we spent a year studying Torah with a text provided by my mentor Rabbi Judith Abrams, in which she pulled together a quote from the Torah portion, the Mishna, and the Gemarra of the Talmud, to help focus our discussions on a single subject each week. For this week, on her blog to her students, she offers a lesson about “a blessing for hearing and thinking.” When we look closely at the blessings that we recite each morning as we lift our heads from our pillows, and rub the sand out of our eyes, there is a list of things that we are grateful for as we slide our feet out from the covers and make our way out of our bedrooms. Among them are the blessings for sight when we open our eyes to the world around us, the ability to stand upright, and expressing our gratitude for the appropriate clothes to face the day.
Although we may believe that the list of blessings recorded in the siddur is a complete list, in actuality it is merely a starter list. When we take seriously the words of the sages that we should say our daily prayers with kavannah, a directedness that includes spontaneity, the fixed blessings are nothing more than a springboard to our personal expressions of gratitude. There are many people who believe that Jewish worship is fixed by law and by tradition, and there is no room in our prayer book for innovation. However, this is not the case when you find individuals who discover for themselves a practice of mindfulness that is associated with Eastern religions. Recently, we were introduced to the benefits of meditation at a recent Community Learning Day. What people began to realize is that turning inwards is just the beginning to turning outwards in communal prayer. The words of the siddur are a guideline to those who have trouble finding their own words to express the feelings that are trapped inside of themselves. It appears as though we have a blessing for everything under the sun… Yet, when we look at these specific blessings that are recited upon awakening, the prayer for hearing and for thought are visibly missing. To make matters worse, we learn in the Talmud that if a sage was unable to hear or had trouble speaking, you were considered “disabled,” and put into a class called deaf/mute, or mentally disabled. Being blind, however, did not disqualify you from participating in the realm of the sages. In fact, two of the greatest sages, Rav Sheshet and Rav Yoseif, were blind.
It is interesting to note that on the High Holidays, the blessing that is recited regarding the blowing of the shofar is based upon “hearing” its voice – Prasied are You, O God, Ruler of the Universe, who commands us to listen to the sound (voice) of the Shofar.” The obligation is to hear the notes as they are sounded. The sages argued that if a person heard an echo (in the same way that we would hear it amplified over a microphone or recorded and played at a later time), have they fulfilled their obligation of hearing the shofar? Why is there no similar blessing at the beginning of the day, expressing one’s gratitude upon hearing the birds sing, or an alarm bell ring!?!
When our ancestors lived in an agrarian society, they were accustomed to hearing the rooster announce the beginning to a new day, before the first rays of the sun came up over the horizon. It is this instinct that receives our first blessing – after saying “modeh ani – I am thankful to God for restoring to me my neshama (my soul, the essence of who I am…) – with kindness and with faith.”
We thank you, O God, for the rooster who knows and understands the difference between day and night,” are the first words we recite to begin our laundry list of one line blessings to greet the new day. We acknowledge, not our own recognition, but that of an animal with an instinct! So, we wonder, “What’s up with that? What were the sages who wrote the siddur thinking? Why not say thank you to God for hearing the rooster crow? This way we get mitzvah points for thanking God not only for hearing, but also for acknowledging what we heard and expressing our gratitude for the birds who provide such a pleasant symphony long before we can see the sun’s early light.
Rabbi Abrams challenges her students to unpack this blessing by thinking outside of the normal pathways that lead us to certain conclusions. She asks, “Why are hearing and understanding the two most profound gifts you have all day long?” In my work with senior adults who deal with many profound losses towards the end of their lives, the scariest of losses is the one that robs them of their minds. Not being able to think clearly and to remember faces, and words, is perhaps one of the most debilitating diseases that we face in the modern world. Alzheimer’s disease is insidious. It robs a person not only of their ability to think, it takes away their dignity when they are unable to remember how to do the daily activities that enable us to survive. Perhaps there is a gesture of kindness being expressed when we call upon the rooster who never seems to forget what to do, to be our daily reminder that hearing and understanding the most basic of differences is not to be taken for granted, especially when we are grateful for the fact that we are capable of waking up to a new day, and upon opening our eyes recognize who we are as one of the most profound gifts that God offers to us each day.
