For the uninitiated, our siddur sounds like this: “Blah blah blah blah G-d. Blah blah G-d. G-d is good. Blah blah blah G-d is terrific. Blah blah blah…”.
Reading between the blah blah’s, however, can be an enlightening, indeed inspiring, experience. We have a perfect example of this in the first blessing before the Sh’ma, which speaks of creation. We are told the angels praise our Creator G-d, “Who alone does mighty deeds, creates new things, a master of war, sowing righteousness, causing salvation to flower, creating healing, awesome in praise, Lord of wonders.”
Let us stop a moment and consider what this prayer says about who (actually, Who) this G-d is. I believe it was Jack Miles (author of G-d: A Biography) who declared that G-d is the most intriguing character in all of world literature. This prayer shows why. It does not “merely” assert that G-d heals, saves, fights for righteousness, etc. (I say “merely” because a resume like that is impressive in its own right). It asserts that G-d alone does all these things. Put another way: Every time we witness a mighty deed, a new creation, a righteous war, an act of redemption, a force for healing, something awe-inspiring and wonderful—every time, we are seeing an act of G-d and G-d alone.
Perhaps this helps us understand Rabbi Mordechai Kaplan’s famous, but enigmatic, statement: “G-d is the Power that makes for salvation.”
And what does all this say about us, we who are G-d’s creation? It says that when we participate in healing, fighting for righteousness, etc., we are in reality a manifestation of G-d.
Who knew? We certainly don’t think of ourselves that way, but perhaps we should. Perhaps we should look at the opportunities for good in the world around us as if we were G-d, tending G-d’s creation, doing awe-inspiring and wonderful things—like giving candy to kids on Shabbos morning; making a minyan so people can say kaddish; giving to tzedakah to rebuild the destroyed communities in Israel; or just being kind to a stranger, a young mother juggling a baby, an elderly person moving slowly (as slowly as we all, someday, will move).
And then maybe the angels will sing sweetly about us.