When the "I" is Silent

As a part of my Lenten discipline this year, I have been attempting to be more focused on spiritual reading. Along with this, I have also recognized a need within myself to better understand and explore the Old Testament. The need to strengthen these two disciplines in my life have led me to Rabbi Jonathan Sacks, Chief Rabbi of the British Commonwealth, who is writing a series of spiritual commentaries/devotionals on the parashat hashavua - the weekly portion of Torah (Old Testament) that is normally read at synagogue. The parasha readings are basically like the Lectionary in the Christian Church, which divide the bible into weekly or daily readings. Rabbi Sacks writes four 'articles' on each parasha reading, as they are usually about 3-4 chapters in length anyway. Drawing from rabbinical sources and Talmudic sources, with which most Christian authors I've read are unfamiliar, Rabbi Sacks engages the Torah in a dialogue that opens up the world of the Old Testament to me in ways I, myself, have never known.

This week's parasha is from Gen. 28:10-32:3, the story of Jacob when he leaves home, fleeing his brother Esau, from whom he stole his father's birthright. Jacob camped at Bethel, and that night had a dream. He saw a stairway or a ladder reaching from the heavens down to the earth, and angels were ascending and descending upon it.

When Jacob woke later, he said to himself, "Surely the Lord is in this place, and I, I knew it not." Rabbi Sacks points out that there is a repetition of the word "I" in this statement, which appears to be superfluous. But the extra "I" is not superfluous; it is, in fact, important. He writes "we sense the "Thou" of the Divine Presence when we move beyond the "I" of egocentricity." When we are centered on ourselves, we lose sight of the world around us; we begin to lose the ability to recognize God when we see only ourselves, when the "I" gets in the way.

Rabbi Sacks points out that the medicine for this is prayer. Lehitpalel is the Hebrew verb, meaning "to pray." It "is reflexive, implying an action done to oneself. Literally, it means 'to judge oneself. It means to escape from the prison of the self and see the world, including ourselves, from the outside." Prayer is how we set aside the "I" for a time and become aware of the reality that is God - above us, around us, within us, beyond us. And when the "I" is silent, when we pray, our lives begin to change. Prayer changes us.

I remember reading Walter Wangerin and Richard Foster years ago, both of whom emphasized this as well. Prayer has the effect of changing us because it removes the "I," and focuses on "Thou," the Divine Presence of God. Rabbi Sacks says that it is in that moment that we can say, with Jacob, "I know not the I. I know only God."