Each year as we read Parashat Ekev, I am reminded of how very different the God with whom I share a relationship with today is from the God of my childhood imagination. No longer do I envision God as the big guy in the sky, sitting on a throne as would a king, taking on human emotions or characteristics. Yet, as I read the haftarah, I am always drawn to one verse that takes me back and leaves me pondering how it is that God of my childhood might not be so different than God with whom I relate today.
Taken from the prophetic works of Isaiah, the Haftarah, also known as the second Haftarah of consolation following Tisha B'Av, recounts the deep pain and loss felt by Israel as they lived in exile from the land of Israel and the Divine promise of return to the land. Amidst the poetic exchange and lament, Israel speaks to God and God to Israel. So says the Torah:
Why, when I came was no one there? (Why) when I called no one answered? (Isaiah 50:2)
Just like another person, God comes to us and calls out to us and expects an answer.
What is even more remarkable, however, is Rabbi Yochanan's midrash on this verse from the 3rd century explained in the Talmud. God comes into the synagogue, he says, and when there are not ten people there (which constitutes the existence of a minyan), God is immediately angry. How do we know this, asks Rabbi Yochanan? From this same verse: "Why, when I came was no one there? (Why) When I called no one answered?" As if to say, God stands there in the shul and sees that there are not ten people, starts calling out, and there is no community to respond.
Remarkably, like we humans, it seems God goes to shul and looks for us there! And, not only that, God looks for a minyan. And, when none exists, like we humans - God expresses emotions and gets angry! Wow! (It can't possibly be that God is looking for the closest minyan to say kaddish since the practice of saying kaddish came a bit later than when Rabbi Yochanan lived.)
I cannot help but go back to God's emotional reaction and examine why it comes to be. At the root of anger is usually a wealth of other emotions - hurt, pain, disappointment, frustration. And, in a moment of reaction all are expressed in the anger. So, what is it about praying in a minyan that would leave God full of so many deep emotions in the absence of a minyan? After all, Judaism does teach us that a Jew can and should pray individually when not in the presence of community, does it not? So, if we can fulfill our obligation to prayer in that way, why the strong reaction?
What I think Rabbi Yochanan is trying to remind us is that coming together in a minyan is about so much more than just the words of the prayers or the fulfillment of command to pray. Sociologist Samuel Heilman posits that while people may come together in prayer, "they have really come only to be with one another, to bond together and ratify their communion."
Minyan is about community, about connecting with others; about stepping beyond ourselves and recognizing that we are part of something larger than ourselves. Together, we create circle of support - where anyone can feel comfortable, where people can bring their joys and sorrow to share, and where we can reach out a hand to the person next to us. In the context of community, we help create such an environment for others and in so doing, such an environment is also created for us to find love and acceptance. Moreover, as Harold Kushner teaches, the synagogue is also the place where holiness can be felt and experienced as we recall the sacred moments of our lives that occurred in that place and within that specific community.
Perhaps it is for all these reasons that the Psalmist reminds us: "God stands in the congregation of God." Knowing that this is all possible, wouldn't you be angry to know that such an opportunity was missed or that you missed the opportunity? Is it any wonder that there is hurt, pain, disappointment, or frustration?
So, why not join the minyan this week? Don't wait for High Holidays - come to shul. God will be waiting, saving you a seat, and waiting to catch up.
Shabbat Shalom