For prayer is a most demanding act, requiring a three-fold eloquence:

In order to pray with sincerity, we must get in touch with our deepest selves. That is no easy task.

In addition, the tradition teaches us we must "know before Whom we stand." What words could we possibly say that would be fitting for an audience with the King of the King of Kings, the Supreme Power of the universe?

Making the situation more difficult still is the gap between us, who wish to pray, and the Divine, Who will hear our prayers. We are limited human beings, sinful in some ways, ignorant in others, most certainly imperfect. Even if we sought to pray, we would be hard put to do it well.

And yet, we do pray. We pray as a group, as a community, as a minyan, every single day. And in minyan, there is mystery.

Maimonides, perhaps the greatest Jewish thinker, wrote that "G-d does not despise the prayer of the many." Whatever limitations we have as individuals, something special happens when we come together. A minyan is more than the sum of its parts. Together, and by being together, we create something unique. Anchored in the history of our faith, we create something that brings us closer to G-d than any of us, individually, could ever come.

That is why our minyan is such a crucial part of our congregational identity. And it is also why maintaining it is so crucial for our congregational future. Ultimately, the minyan is a concrete reminder that a Jew is never really alone.

Help us keep that message alive. Pick a day a week or a day a month. Come for the yahrzeits of people you know. Come for the yahrzeits of people you *don't* know. Come before a meeting or a class at the shul. Come for a reason, or for no reason at all. Come because you're Jewish, and this is what Jews do. Shalom,
Rabbi Robert L. Wolkoff