Why do I only hear from you when you need something?

Here is my one attempt at a parable, such as it is:

A little while ago, before you moved away, you had a very close friend. You spoke almost every day, and sometimes you finished each other’s thoughts. Often, there wasn’t even a need to say anything. You related to each other on a deeper level, almost as if you were of one mind and spirit. You knew they were there for you— any time, any place —- no matter the circumstances. You also never felt judged by any other standard except for what would have you aspire to be your best self.

But sadly, time has passed, and your conversations are far fewer. You don't share as much, and the details of daily life don't seem as relevant to talk about as before. Now, you pause before calling: Is it the right time? Would the call be an intrusion? What if I feel rejected? Has too much time passed? Maybe hearing from me is not significant anymore. You second guess yourself all the time.

If you finally do speak, the conversations are polite, but not as rich as when you used to talk many times each day. How is that so? Wouldn’t you have even more to talk about now since so much time has passed? But it doesn’t work like that.

The more distance there is between times of connection, the more distant you feel.

The same is true of your relationship with God.

It is difficult to muster up the emotional content you need to develop a relationship when you connect only a few times a year. For the few times that you actually might attend a service at a synagogue, it is hard not to feel distant, apart.

The formality of it all seems too impenetrable. Standing, sitting, being quiet…turning pages…an overload of stuff to do. Besides, the language is so, so well…off-putting. Kingship, Lord, Reign…it’s all so Middle Ages.

Plus, often our experience of formal prayer is like being in a courtroom… “if it Pleases the Lord, Praise the Lord”…and when I’ve done enough of that I can finally ask for things…like Peace. It takes much practice, over many years, to develop your own way through all that. Because what gets shoved down the list of priorities of that experience is the focus on a relationship.

Yet, that’s what God wants. A relationship.

But how do you start a relationship with so many obstacles blocking the way?

Well, like any other. You begin a relationship by relating. By making that ‘phone call’ to your distant friend.

Pick a private space, perhaps one you will return to often. It might be inspirational to you, or its best feature is that the space offers you absolute privacy. You can dress up the space with candles, drapery, or anything else that might put you in a different frame of mind, but honestly, you can have a conversation in your car (which is what I most often do).

Then, start talking. Introduce yourself. Get acquainted. What you're looking for is integrity in developing a meaningful conversation. This is prayer. Yes, you will need to get rid of the transactional notion of prayer: "I praise you a bit, make you feel good, then I can ask you for things."

What you are going for is a relationship that is based on sharing and soul.

This is not a unique concept. Originating in Hasidic practice, the term for this is hitbodedut (secluding yourself somewhere and pouring out your innermost being to The One of All Being, HaShem).

Hitbodedut was practiced hundreds of years ago as an addition to the times of fixed prayer, to add an extra dimension of meaning to the standard ones.

But sometimes this might need to work the other way around. Reaching out first informally, in pure honesty, will jump start your connection.

Even if you don't have a fixed practice of prayer, striving for a more intimate relationship might need to come first.

Give it a try and please let me know how it goes.