When you approach a friend, do you immediately launch into your requests, or do you begin with a little connection, a little appreciation? Our prayers, especially the Amidah—that central, standing prayer in Jewish tradition—work the same way.
The Sifrei Devarim, a collection of legal midrash on the Book of Deuteronomy, sheds light on the structure of the Amidah. It tells us that the early sages, when they established this prayer for the people of Israel, made a conscious choice. They didn't begin with a laundry list of our needs. No, they understood something profound about connection and relationship.
Instead, they began with praise of G-d. We acknowledge G-d as "the great, mighty, awesome G-d," echoing the words of Nehemiah (9:32). We recognize G-d's power in "releasing the bound." We affirm G-d's holiness with "You are holy and awesome is Your name." Only after this foundation of praise is laid do we then turn to our requests, beginning with "Heal us," and concluding with gratitude, "We thank You." It’s a beautiful structure, isn’t it? One that prioritizes relationship and acknowledgment before need.
But what about encountering the Divine in different ways? Imagine G-d speaking in every language, reaching every soul.
The Sifrei Devarim offers another fascinating perspective on G-d's revelation at Sinai. It says that when the Holy One, Blessed be He, appeared to give the Torah to Israel, He didn't do so in just one language. No, according to this teaching, G-d used four languages!
"The L-rd came from Sinai" – that's Hebrew, the language of the Israelites, the language of covenant. "And he shone forth from Seir to them" – that's Romish, understood here as a representation of the wider world, maybe even Latin. "He appeared from Mount Paran" – that's Arabic, reaching out to another branch of humanity. And finally, "And He came from the myriads of the holy ones" – that's Aramaic, the common language of the time, the language of everyday life and learning.
Think about that for a moment. As Ginzberg recounts in Legends of the Jews, the giving of the Torah was a universal event. G-d wasn’t just speaking to one group of people in one tongue. G-d was reaching out to all of humanity, using languages that different peoples could understand. It is an inclusive and expansive vision.
What does this teach us? Perhaps that G-d's message is for everyone, regardless of language or background. Perhaps that revelation isn’t a one-time event, but an ongoing process of encountering the Divine in our own way, in our own language. And perhaps, like the Amidah itself, it’s a reminder that connection and acknowledgment are always the first step in any meaningful relationship.