How can we breathe sparkling life into this challenging avodah?

What did you do after your last night out at a 5-star restaurant? Or the last time you attended a concert or event you loved?

What did you do after the birth of your first child? Or after you got home from that child's wedding?

Different experiences, but their aftermaths have something in common. From none of them do we simply get up and move on with life. We linger over them, and they linger with us. Some for an hour, some for days or weeks.

As our Sages teach (Avos 1:2), the world stands on 3 pillars: Torah (study), avodah (specifically prayer), and gemilus chassadim (acts of kindness).

We all recognize the importance of these three pillars and strive to bring them into our lives. But for many of us, one of them proves harder to connect to than the others.

Tefillah (prayer).

A simple reason why? Torah and chesed give tangible feedback. Studying Torah brings intellectual stimulation. When we do chesed, we get to see its effects on the receiver's life and happiness. Both mitzvos offer tangible rewards.

With tefillah, it doesn't seem so simple.

We say the same words every day, often with little grasp of their meaning.

We muster up our concentration and direct our words to – well, Hashem of course, but tangibly, the shul wall.

Even when we’re blessed to sense Hashem's listening Presence, we don't walk away with concrete knowledge of what (if anything) our prayers have accomplished.

We believe passionately in tefillah. We revere its power and importance. But we don't necessarily find it rewarding. We don't leave our everyday prayers feeling enveloped in a lingering experience.

Well. Are we supposed to?

Chazal tell us (Berachos 32b) that the "chassidim harishonim" (the original pious ones) used to dedicate three hours to their prayers: one before, one during prayer, and one afterwards.

The first hour makes sense to us – preparing for tefillah is extremely important. The second hour does too. But the third one? Why did they need it?

In today's lightning-paced world, we're not big on reflection. Sometimes, though, an experience hits us so profoundly that even we post-modern people can't just rush on with life. Like that exciting concert. Like a child's birth or wedding.

How can we turn everyday tefillah into an experience so genuinely touching that we linger in it even once we've closed our siddurim?

It's a great question, and the answer isn't simple. But it is accessible. The depth of the meaning, connection and excitement tefillah offers us – all of us – is difficult to imagine.

So join us as we start a journey toward tefillah as it's meant to be experienced. It won't be without obstacles. Our inspiration receptors are smothered with so many assumptions, associations, and same-old, burnt-out feelings about tefillah and tefillah study that we're largely blocked from absorbing insight.

So – let's work on that first.

Let's try to put aside our past experiences, even the positive ones.

Let's do the best we can to approach the topic of tefillah as if for the very first time. Like we’ve really never heard of the concept before.

Let's look at it with wide, curious eyes, intrigued and excited to explore its ins and outs.

May Hashem bless our efforts with success!