Conversations With Hashem

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Conversations With Hashem

Pirkei Avos 2:13

Harav Y. Reuven Rubin Shlita

Family simchas carry with them a unique blend of joy, anticipation, and reflection. As I write these words, I am are preparing to attend a great grandson’s bar mitzvah. The excitement is palpable, and I can already feel the familiar flutter of butterflies in my stomach.

A wise rav once remarked that human beings are unique among living creatures because they become attached not only to their children, but also to their grandchildren. Many animals care for their young, but none seem to derive special joy from watching a third generation grow and flourish. There is something distinctly human about the pride and gratitude that grandparents experience as they watch the family chain continue.

Yet while our generation celebrates many blessings, I sometimes wonder about the challenges facing our young people. Materially, they possess more opportunities and resources than perhaps any generation in history. Spiritually, however, many seem to be searching for something deeper.

Our yeshivos and Bais Yaakov schools provide an abundance of Torah knowledge. Information is more accessible than ever before, and our children are exposed to a wealth of learning opportunities. Yet knowledge alone does not always translate into connection. Something essential can still be missing.

There was a time when mitzvos were understood not merely as obligations, but as pathways to awareness. A brachah was recited with heartfelt gratitude because a person genuinely sought to recognise Hashem’s presence in every aspect of life. People spoke to Hashem naturally and frequently. They felt His involvement in their daily struggles and triumphs. Their relationship with Him was personal, immediate, and alive.

Today, despite remarkable technological advances and unprecedented comforts, many people struggle with feelings of anxiety, loneliness, and uncertainty. We have acquired countless conveniences, but in the process we may have lost some of our sensitivity to the Source of those blessings. When we begin to view ourselves as self-sufficient, we risk forgetting that everything we possess is ultimately a gift from Hashem, intended to draw us closer to Him.

One of the most powerful tools we have for rebuilding that connection is tefillah.

Prayer is far more than a ritual. It is a conversation. It is the opportunity to reach into the depths of our souls and speak to our Father in Heaven. Through tefillah we remind ourselves that we are not alone. We are His children, turning to Him for guidance, strength, comfort, and understanding.

Yet how often do we rush through our prayers? How frequently do we recite familiar words while our minds are occupied elsewhere? The heartfelt cry of a child seeking his Father can become lost amid schedules, responsibilities, and distractions. Instead of embracing prayer as an encounter with Hashem, we sometimes treat it as another task to complete before moving on to the next item on our agenda.

Perhaps this observation makes me sound old-fashioned. If so, I accept the charge. But I make it with a heavy heart.

The modern world offers many blessings, yet it can also be a colder place. The noise of daily life often drowns out the quiet voice of the soul. At a time when meaningful connection with Hashem is more necessary than ever, we can become preoccupied with external matters while neglecting the inner relationship that gives those externals their purpose.

Our children deserve more than information. They deserve the keys that unlock a living relationship with Hashem. They need to know that prayer is not merely a requirement but a privilege—a means of entering into conversation with the Creator of the world.

Every one of us faces challenges that test our faith and stretch our hearts. In those moments, the ability to cry out, “Father!” can illuminate even the darkest path. Without that connection, life’s burdens can feel overwhelming. With it, hope remains within reach.

This message is beautifully expressed in Pirkei Avos (2:13):

“Rabbi Shimon says: Be careful in reading the Shema and the Shemoneh Esrei when you pray. Do not regard your prayer as a fixed, mechanical routine but as an appeal for mercy and grace before Hashem… And do not consider yourself a wicked person.”

These words offer comfort to anyone struggling with doubt or distance. Prayer is not reserved for the spiritually accomplished. Hashem’s love is not limited to those who feel worthy. No person is ever so far removed that he cannot call out to his Father. Hashem knows where we are, understands our struggles, and waits for us to speak with Him.

As long as we continue that conversation, we remain connected.

Soon our family will gather to celebrate our great grandson’s bar mitzvah. He will join the ranks of those obligated in Torah and mitzvos, beginning a new stage of life and responsibility.

As a bochur I heard in a shiur The Ponivesher Rav Ztl who pointed out that the very first Mishnah in Berachos discusses the time for reciting Shema in the evening. Why begin there? Why not start with another mitzvah or another area of Torah?

His answer was simple and profound. For a young man becoming bar mitzvah, Shema is among the very first mitzvos he will perform as an obligated Jew. The journey begins with acknowledging Hashem’s presence and accepting His sovereignty. From the very beginning, Judaism teaches that life is built upon awareness of Hashem.

And so I find myself doing what Ziedy’s have always done—kvelling.

I pray that my great grandson’s first Shema as a bar mitzvah will be the beginning of a lifetime of meaningful conversations with Hashem. May his prayers never become mere routine. May they always be expressions of love, trust, gratitude, and faith. And may he grow to understand that the greatest blessing in life is knowing that whenever he speaks, his Father is listening.