The 17th blessing of the weekday Amidah (which is the same as the 5th blessing of the Shabbat Amidah) deals with avodah. What exactly is avodah? Broadly speaking, in means “work.” More particularly, “worship.” More particularly still, the sacrificial service in the Temple/Tabernacle.

The traditional form of this blessing reads: “Find favor, Ad-nai our G-d, in your People Israel and in their prayer. And return the sacrifice to the Holy of Holies. In favor accept the fire-offerings of Israel and their prayers in love….” Almost no contemporary prayer books retain this wording. Instead, and quite cleverly, the editors of modern siddurim eliminate “fire-offerings” from the text. Hence, in Sim Shalom, we read, “Accept the prayer of Your people as lovingly as it is offered. Restore worship to Your sanctuary. May the worship of Your people Israel always be acceptable to You…”

Notice how both prayer and sacrifice have been neutralized here, instead focusing on “worship.”

Interestingly enough, the latest Conservative siddur reverses the trend (at least partially)! There, we read, “Ad-nai our G-d, embrace Your people Israel and their prayer. Restore worship to Your sanctuary. May the [fiery offerings and] prayers of the people Israel be lovingly accepted…”

Obviously, there is ambivalence about these “fiery sacrifices.” On the one hand, no matter how much we celebrate a return to Zion, hardly any of us look forward to the day when we will be able to sacrifice animals on the altar. On the other hand, sacrifice was so central to our ancestors that it seems odd to remove the concept altogether. In addition, there is always the possibility of including the traditional text and reinterpreting it. Thus, during the middle ages, the fire-offerings were seen as referring to courageous Jewish martyrs who died by fire.

And here, I would make the case for including in our liturgy that which is complex, dischordant, jarring. We need it to get beyond ourselves, to move us to a place we have not yet been. Although prayer can be soothing and comforting, it is also meant to be disruptive, forcing open our consciousness so that we will address profound issues—not least, what does it mean to serve G-d, to worship, to sacrifice. The Torah does this all the time. Why not the siddur?