If you received e-mail from an angel, would you heed…
The Heavenly Call

Rabbi Yaakov Luban

First, A Disclaimer
 
The following story describes the irreverent behavior of a group of worshipers in a shul. The author wishes to make it clear that this is not an accurate representation of what actually occurs in most synagogues.

Rather, it is a verbal caricature of sorts, which exaggerates certain patterns of human behavior for purposes of instruction. 

One further point. You may imagine that you recognize the main character of this story. This is not surprising. A wise man once noted that every synagogue has the same members – they just have different names. I wish to state categorically that any resemblance between the characters in this story and actual people is purely coincidental. The players in this story are fictional stereotypes, wholly figments of the author’s imagination. 

And Now the Story 

Before the e-mails arrived, Bernie Goldberg was a big talker, especially when davening (prayer) in the Tefilla Bikavana Synagogue in Anytown, USA. Rabbi Yisroel Cohen, the young, energetic rabbi of the shul, valiantly campaigned against the constant lack of decorum. Every Shabbos morning the Rabbi’s blood pressure would rise slowly as the noise level continued to escalate. Finally, when the chatter reached an intolerable decibel, the Rabbi would stop the chazan (cantor), pound on his shtender (lectern) and make an impassioned plea to Bernie and his cohorts. Each week the Rabbi tried a different argument: 

• “Talking during davening is a grave sin which is strictly forbidden by Halacha”.

• If one engages in any form of idle conversation in shul (even when not davening), he violates the Biblical commandment of “Es mikdoshi tirou- you shall revere my sanctuary”.[i]

• “How can you be so insensitive to your neighbors, who are trying to pray with kavana (concentration)?”

• “You are setting a terrible example for your children.” 

• “This behavior is entirely inappropriate for a holy place”. 

These mini-speeches fell on deaf ears. Bernie and his friends waited impatiently for the Rabbi’s outbursts to end. They paused a few moments until the Rabbi sat down, and then picked up the conversation exactly where they left off before the interruption. 

Bernie would often justify his irreverent behavior. “I work hard all week, and I don’t have a chance to socialize. Davening time affords me an important opportunity to catch up with my friends. My father talked in shul, my grandfather talked in shul, and I imagine my ancestors did the same for generations. In the final analysis, I consider it an inalienable right to converse freely during the davening”.  

One particularly noisy Shabbos morning, Rabbi Cohen stopped the davening, but he did not pound on the shtender and deliver his traditional fire and brimstone invective. Instead, he looked defeated and spoke in a hushed tone. 

“My friends, I am at a total loss, and no longer know what to do. I just can’t seem to get through to you, and my words do not penetrate your consciousness. If only I could somehow open your eyes to the seriousness of your sin for just one moment…but how? ” 
 
The first e-mail arrived the very next day. The address indicated that it was sent from one Mallach (angel) to another with a copy to Bernie Goldberg. Understandably, no one had ever received a communication of this sort before, and it created quite a stir in Congregation Tefilla Bikavana when Bernie showed it to his friends.

Bernie Goldberg spotted the e-mail on his computer with the strange subject title, "Mallachim Conference on Decorum". Bernie opened the e-mail and read through the memo with disbelief. At first he was slightly amused, but by the time he finished reading the correspondence, he was outraged.

"What an enormous chutzpah to make me the subject of a practical joke", he thought to himself.

That Shabbos, he brought copies of the e-mail to shul and distributed them to his friends. Davening that week was particularly noisy, as Bernie's chaveirim (friends) loudly attacked the anonymous sender. It was clear to everyone that Rabbi Cohen authored this unbecoming letter, and they concurred that the Rabbi had gone too far this time. The Rabbi, in turn, responded to the noise with a fiery talk: 

“I just don’t understand your conduct. I know that most people have personal difficulties in life; it may be a family illness or a financial crisis, a lack of shalom bayis (domestic tranquility) or a troubled child. Everyone has his or her own pekel (burden). No doubt, when each of us prays to Hashem three times a day, we ask Him to resolve those problems that rest most heavily on our hearts. 

Imagine if your employee would approach you for a raise and say to you, ‘I feel I deserve a $5,000 increase in salary. Let me tell you why.’ Suddenly, he spots his friend in the hallway and walks away to speak to him. When he finishes, he resumes his request. ‘I put in long hours from…’ Before he ends the sentence he pulls out his cell phone and calls his stockbroker for ten minutes. When the call is over, he begins again. ‘So, as I was saying, I work hard…’ Then he turns his back to you and looks out the window and talks to people passing by about the weather and other trivialities. Would you give this fellow a raise? Of course not. In all likelihood, you would reduce his salary or, possibly, fire him on the spot! 

Do you think Hashem listens to your pleas when you constantly interrupt your prayers to speak to a friend or neighbor? More likely, you make the situation worse by your insulting behavior. 

My friends, the great 18th century Posek (legal decisor), Rav Avrohom Danzig, makes a frightening comment, in his classic work, Chayai Adom.[v] At the end of the period of the first Temple, the Jewish people compromised their religious values, and Yeshayohu Hanavi (the prophet Isaiah) chastised the people in the name of Hashem. ‘When you come to appear before me, who sought this from your hand, to trample My courtyards.’[vi] In other words, G-d said to them, ‘Who asked you to come to my holy Temple? If you act immorally, I do not want you in the Bais Hamikdash.’ The Chayai Adom says that the same words of rebuke apply to people who act inappropriately in shul. Hashem says to them: ‘Mi bikaish zos miyedchem rimos chatzeirai - Who sought this from your hand, to trample my courtyard.’ If this is the case, perhaps you would do better to daven at home alone, rather than come to shul.” 

The people didn’t like Rabbi Cohen’s suggestion for home-prayer one bit. “He is anti-social,” they said. 
 
Chaim Green, one of the members of the talkers’ club, was quiet and pensive that Shabbos morning. Bernie asked him if anything was wrong. 
 “Well what if the e-mail was not written by Rabbi Cohen, but by a real live Mallach?” 
 
Bernie was agitated. "Chaim, are you for real? Mallachim don't have conferences and they don't send e-mail. The whole thing is an obvious prank." 

Chaim persisted. "Maybe Hashem is upset that we talk so much in shul. Because He doesn't communicate with ordinary mortals, He disguised his
message in a story about a Mallachim conference.” 
 
For a moment Bernie hesitated and considered this suggestion, but he promptly regained his composure and dismissed Chaim's misgivings. "Don't worry", he said – and quickly walked away. 

Next Friday, Bernie received a second e-mail. This one spoke directly to him:

Bernie brought this e-mail to shul on Shabbos and showed it to his friends. They were not amused. What nerve the Rabbi had to give them mussar under this thinly veiled guise of e-mail from a Mallach. As a matter of principle, Bernie made certain to talk straight through the entire davening. 

One person who was deeply moved by this latest e-mail was Chaim Green. He followed the angel’s advice and gazed out the window at the bright morning sun. He could not look at the ball of fire. He thought about the billions of stars suspended above, and the G-d who created this magnificent universe. Suddenly, Chaim began to shiver, and he quickly made his way out of the sanctuary. He struggled upstairs and entered the balcony that overlooked the shul. Chaim stood there silently and peered over the railing at the congregation below. "So this is what Hashem sees when he looks down from His heavenly abode", Chaim thought. He was stunned. Throughout the shul, people were milling around, engaged in animated conversations, while the chazan struggled to make his voice heard above the din of the talking parishioners. 

Chaim imagined that he saw scores of angels in the synagogue, desperately trying to grab the attention of the would-be worshippers. He could hear them beckoning and pleading, but everyone seemed oblivious to their call. Chaim saw the sunlight dancing on the faces of the people. Perhaps G-d was shining the sun in their eyes, a giant flashlight of sorts, to have them notice His presence, all to no avail. The people just didn’t seem to remember that they were in shul. Chaim could not contain himself any longer, and he shouted at the congregation from above. 
 
"What are you people doing? Don't you see the sunlight? Can't you hear the angels calling? The Shechina, the Mallachim – they are in this room with us right now!" 

The group of talkers looked up at Chaim in shock. They thought he drank too much at the kiddush club. "Chaim, quiet! You're ruining the decorum and spoiling the davening. Don't you know you're in shul?" 

Next week’s e-mail arrived again on Friday. Though Bernie was in no mood for more practical jokes, something deep inside compelled him to scan the contents.

Bernie took the last paragraph of the e-mail as a challenge. He was not going to be intimidated by a prankster, and that Shabbos he talked even more than usual in shul. Rabbi Cohen was particularly upset, and he finally pounded on his shtender and delivered a passionate drasha. 

"The Shulchan Oruch[viii] states that if one converses during the repetition of the shemona esrei, ‘gadol avono meniso - his sin is too great to be borne’. This expression is borrowed from the Torah. When Kayin killed Hevel, Kayin remarked, ‘godol avoni meniso – my sin is too great to be borne’.[ix] By choosing this phrase, the Shulchan Oruch seems to be equating speaking in shul to Kayin’s sin of murdering his brother. Isn’t this comparison completely unbalanced?

Let me pose a second question. Why was Kayin’s sin greater than he could bear? The Torah never characterized other sins in this way. 
 
Listen well, my friends, to what I believe is the very important answer to these two questions. Kayin didn't just murder one person. Kayin stood at the threshold of creation and killed one quarter of the world’s population. In so doing, he annihilated billions of souls of future generations that would have emerged from Hevel.[x] Generally, a misdeed is fixed and limited, but this sin was almost infinite in its scope. This averah was so massive that Kayin could not bear the burden of the crime. 
 
Herein lies the comparison. How great is the sin of speaking during davening? Imagine a delegation of subjects visiting their king in the royal palace. In the middle of the reception, one of the fellows turns around, and in earshot of everyone says, ‘Boy this meeting is boring. I wonder how long it will last?’ Or, he might say, ‘Do you know a good place to buy shoes on sale?’ This is unforgivable impudence. When kings were in vogue, the immediate response to such a lack of respect was decapitation. Now consider. The chazan is reciting the chazoras hashatz on behalf of the entire congregation. The tzibur (congregation) has an audience before the Almighty. A man turns to his neighbor and says, ‘I can’t wait for the davening to end,’ or, ‘Do you want to hear a good joke?’ Such irreverence is the quintessential act of chutzpa. It’s like slapping Hashem in the face. How great is the sin? It's as great as the Almighty. Since G-d is infinite, the insolence is infinite as well. 
 
We can now understand the comparison. Just as Kayin committed infinite acts of murder, so too is the insult to G-d (made by people talking during chazoras hashatz), infinite in its scope. Both sins are unlimited, and for this reason they are too overwhelming to be borne by mortal man. 
 
Rabbi Yom Tov Lipmann Heller [xi] maintained that the terrible massacres of Chmielnicki (gezeros tach vetat - the decrees of 1648-1649, in which tens of thousands of Jews were murdered by Cossacks) were a punishment for the lack of decorum that prevailed in the synagogues at that time. In Rabbinic literature it is reported that many synagogues were destroyed for this same reason.[xii] People often react to these suggestions with incredulity. ‘It’s absurd’ they say. ‘The punishment far exceeds the crime.’ Well, it’s not absurd at all, rabosai. Can there be a greater crime than hurling insults at the Almighty? 

The Vilna Gaon expressed so well the tragedy of human transgression: ‘Tomorrow you will cry for what you laughed at today.’[xiii] Don't you realize the magnitude of your crime? Don't you recognize that by speaking in shul you are playing with fire?"

The people didn't realize a thing. They waited for Rabbi Cohen to sit down and then continued talking as usual.  

Next week, Bernie didn't receive any e-mail from his heavenly contact. He sat down in his seat Shabbos morning wondering why there was no correspondence when a stranger handed him an e-mail. "This was sent to me for you", said the man. 

Bernie slowly read the e-mail and his face turned white. He looked as if he had seen a ghost. Here is what this e-mail said:

Bernie was stunned. It was impossible for anyone to be aware of his inner thoughts - only G-d or an angel could have possibly known. So Rabbi Cohen was not sending e-mails as a practical joke. Bernie sat through davening in a dazed state of disbelief.  

Before mussaf, Rabbi Cohen stood to deliver his weekly sermon. His eyes were particularly intent, and his gaze repeatedly returned to Bernie, as he spoke with measured deliberation. 

“We are about to recite the mussaf shemona esrei. This prayer begins with the standard introductory phrase, ‘Hashem sefosai tiftach – G-d open my lips’. Rav Yonason Eibschitz [xiv] explains why we make this request. When man stands before the Master of the Universe, one's vocal cords should freeze in paralysis, out of fear. We therefore offer a special prayer that G-d should grant us the fortitude to open our lips in prayer. 

Rav Elya Lapian [xv] underscores this thought by relating a story that occurred in Russia during the reign of Czar Nicholas. An engineer built a major roadway in Moscow. The Czar was so impressed with the road that he honored the engineer by granting him an audience in the royal palace.

When the man appeared before the Czar, he was so overwhelmed with fear that his vocal cords froze, and he could not utter a word. The man never recovered from the trauma, and he remained mute for the remainder of his life. 
 
My friends, the Czar of Russia is not even a speck of dust compared to the Almighty. If the engineer became mute because he stood before the Czar, kal vachomer (most certainly), we should be unable to utter a sound when standing before G-d in tefillah. This is why we begin every shemona esrei with a short plea to Hashem that He open our lips.” 

Bernie listened intently to the Rabbi. This time, the message hit home and he began to cry. For months he had prayed that his son Simcha regain full use of his eyes. Now he recognized that his prayers, interspersed with countless conversations, were meaningless and futile, and he had undoubtedly angered Hashem with his brazen chutzpah. 

At the end of the services, Bernie slowly approached Rabbi Cohen. "Gadol avoni meniso – my sin is too great to bear. How can I repent?" he wanted to say. But his lips were frozen and would not move. 

A few days later, Bernie received this letter in the mail from Dr. Stanford Bennet:

EPILOGUE 
 
The following conversation may have taken place between two angels in the Rokiah Hashomayim:
 
“I wonder if Bernie will permanently stop talking in shul. Little does he realize that we were sent to inspire Dr. Bennet to write those e-mails to him.” [xvi]

“What about the people reading this story. Do you think they will take the lesson to heart and change their behavior without receiving a personal e-mail?”

“Some will be angry, like Bernie was at first. They will say this story is insulting and offensive. Others will just continue to ignore the issue of decorum. You know how hard it is for many human beings to open their minds to new ideas and make changes in their lives. Instead of acting with intelligence, they rationalize and justify even the most absurd and unethical positions. But many good people will get the message and will hear our call. Hopefully, for those individuals, this story will be of value.”

 “We’ve done as much as we can. Now it’s in their hands.”

Notes

[i] Shulchan Oruch, Orach Chaim 151:
[ii] See Yesod Vishoresh Hoavoda 2:12 who quotes various sources from the Zohar that describe how the angels escort the prayers to the heavens. However, the Talmud (Sota 33a) indicates that the intervention of angels is unnecessary when praying with a minyan. The Zohar (which makes no distinction between private and public prayer) appears to not agree. However, to reconcile the Talmud and the Zohar we can suggest that the Talmud is referring to angelic advocacy (“meilitz”), which is not needed bitzibur. However, the Mallachim escort the tefillos to above in any event, even bitzibur, as described in the Zohar. In our story, we assume that Mallachim escort tefillos even bitzibur.
[iii] The basis for the suggestion that the angels are perturbed is the Zohar (Shemos 106b) that states that the two protecting angels mourn man’s indiscretions.
[iv] It is obvious that lack of decorum in the synagogue has been a long-standing problem. In the twelfth century, the Rambam rendered an amazing ruling and abolished the Rabbinic requirement of reciting a silent shemona esrei followed by chazoras hashatz, because the people conversed, and this lead to chilul Hashem. Some four hundred years later, the Radvaz reinstated the original practice because the congregants continued to talk, even with the abbreviated davening.(Teshuvos HaRadvaz 4:94)
[v] Chayai Adom 17:6
[vi] Yeshaya 1:12
[vii] See Ramo, Orach Chaim 98:1, that man should contemplate the greatness of Hashem and the insignificance of man before praying.
[viii] Orach Chaim 124:7
[ix] Bereshis 4:13
[x] This point is made by the Mishna, Sanhedrin 4:5
[xi] 1579-1654, author of the Tosafos Yom Tov on Mishna
[xii] See Mishna Berura, 124:27, who quotes Elya Rabbo and Kol Bo, and Magen Avrohom 151: who qoutes Smak.
[xiii] Igeress Hagro
[xiv] 1690-1764, in his classic work Yaaros Devash
[xv] 1876-1970, in Lev Eliyohu, vol. 3, page 320
[xvi] See Targum Unkelos on Devarim 8:18, who indicates that G-d places business strategies in people’s minds. As an extension of this, it can be assumed that all human creativity is Divinely inspired.

Rabbi Yaakov Luban

Rabbi Luban is the Executive Rabbinic Coordinator of the Kashruth Department at the Orthodox Union. He is the Rabbi of Congregation Ohr Torah in Edison, NJ.

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