In “Silver Blaze,” a Sherlock Holmes story, the decisive clue is the fact that a dog didn’t bark when it would have been expected to. Sometimes, what isn’t there is more telling than what is there.
Such is the case when it comes to Aleynu, a prayer that we use near the conclusion of every service. This prayer reminds us of our unique G-d given identity and destiny as Jews. And then we literally bow before “the King, King of kings, the Blessed Holy One.” Aleynu then goes on to describe our hope for a world under G-d’s eternal rule.
After that recognition of Israel’s unique identity, and the expressed hope for G-d’s rule, the “dog we would expect to bark” is a description of Israel’s dominant place in the “Kingship of the Almighty.”
But the dog doesn’t bark. The final paragraph of Aleynu uses (or stylistically implies) the word You (as in, “You, G-d”) nearly 20 times in 8 sentences. Besides mentioning “our hope” that G-d will reign, the prayer never mentions “Israel” or “Jews” or “us.” And this, when viewed from an historical perspective, is astounding. A quick review of past civilizations reads like a catalogue of empires, each asserting that they are the rightful “masters of all they survey.” Whether Greeks or Romans or Byzantines, or Christians or Muslims, or for that matter Communists or Fascists, the “great powers” always saw themselves as superior to all others, and therefore rightfully exerting hegemony over them. (Think Hegel: “The German Spirit is the Spirit of the new World.”)
Ego much?
In this regard, Jews were substantially and blessedly different. While still asserting our unique identity, we refrained from world conquering pretensions. We aren’t supposed to be governing the world. G-d is.
Fact is, we’re lucky if we can just figure out how to govern ourselves. And that by itself is worth praying over.