Picture the scene: a Shul full of people davening on Shabbos morning. Davening is long, the tables start getting cramped, and at some point some participants may lose focus on the transcendental power that their tefillos hold. Fidgeting with the parshah pamphlets (maybe even a Nekuda Tova!) starts, and the volume of the small chit-chat begins to rise. The Rav has to do something; davening must continue with the proper decorum; as they say, “The show must go on!” This situation is usually dealt with by klapping hard on the bima or a pause followed by a loud “SHUSH!” which may or may not be effective.
But in Kehal Mevakshei Hashem in Lawrence NY, there has been a shift in how to approach this age-old challenge. It’s become clear over time that, rather than an angry shush, there is a need for something more positive and empowering to re-focus the crowd on the opportunity in front of them. This is not about stopping the talking in shul, but rather about starting to reconnect to the essence of Tefillah, and what it means fo be a Yiddishe Neshama; part of a tzibur. Our Morah D’asra, Harav Yussie Zakutinsky takes a radical approach to this common occurrence.
I still remember the first time I heard one of Reb Yussie’s now-legendary “Shush Torahs.” The noise in the room had begun to rise, and instead of silencing us with a stern gaze or admonition, the Rav turned from his seat and shared something unforgettable:
“You know why the person next to you is talking during davening? Because he doesn’t understand the power of his tefillah—what he personally brings to the klal. If he knew, he’d be begging to daven for the amud on Yom Kippur! Don’t shush him—tantz with him! Put your arm around him. Sing a niggun with him! Show him how important he is, how vital his voice and presence are to every Yid in the room, and beyond.”
The issue wasn’t approached with scolding or reprimand, but with a focus on what we could build; what we could do together. It wasn’t about silencing; it was about connecting.
Another time he shared:
“Chevra, I’ll tell you one of the most chashuva kavanos you can have during davening, that can help you grow in every madreiga, is that your actions are not for yourself, but rather that you are being a vessel for Hashem. I am just opening my lips, and being a vessel, and Hashem is davening through me.”
Over the years, this theme has remained central in Rav Yussie’s teachings: every individual matters. You are not a background player in the shul experience. You are a piece of a greater whole—Kenesses Yisrael (A.K.A., the Shechinah HaKedoshah itself). When you show up—heart, soul, and voice—we are complete. The tefillah becomes whole and its impact is greatly amplified. When you don’t, we all lose something irreplaceable.
At K’hal Mevakshei Hashem, this philosophy plays out practically and joyfully. Singing is part of the davening experience, not a disruption to it. During Chazaras HaShatz, the tzibur is invited—often expected—to raise their voices together at designated parts. Whether the chazzan is ready or not, the kehillah is ready to sing. (You quickly learn: to daven for the amud at KMH, you need to be a real shliach tzibur; a representative of the klal; part of a whole.)
Reb Yussie’s Shush Torahs are never scripted. They spill out, heartfelt and raw, in the spirit of uplifting the chevrah and magnifying the power of our tefillos, lechvod Shamayim, to make this world a dwelling place for Hashem.
Since I heard that first Shush Torah, there have been many others. Each one carries that same undercurrent: the focus is not about what’s wrong, but what’s right and how powerful our tefillos are and can be. Not how far we’ve fallen, but how high we can rise. Not “be quiet”—but “come sing.”
The Shush Torah approach aligns with the teachings of the Baal Shem Tov, who often emphasized “asei tov”—flooding the world with good—rather than obsessing over “sur me’rah,” withdrawing from wrong. If you light enough candles, the darkness retreats on its own.
The Rav illustrated this once with a beautiful mashal on a particular Friday night:
“When you’re on the road to a destination, yes, be mindful of potholes. They may slow you down or bump you off course. But the goal of the journey is not to avoid potholes! It’s to get somewhere! The focus must remain on the destination—on where you are headed and why.”
The goal is not to stop talking; the goal is to start davening. Recognize the value of your voice, your heart, and your presence. Know how needed you are. If you don’t have someone reminding you of the unbelievable power your tefillah has, how Hashem is Yosheiv tehillos Yisroel (waiting in anticipation for the praises of the Jewish people), and how crucial your voice is amongst the voice of the tzibur, pull out a Shush Torah and remind yourself!
Shush Torah
- One of the most chashuv’e kavanos you can have—and through this you can grow in all madreigos—is to have the intention that your actions aren’t for yourself, but that Hashem wants something done and you’re just the vessel to do it. When you daven, think: “I’m the vessel—through me, Hashem is davening. I’m just opening my lips, and Hashem is davening.”
- One way to build Yiras Shomayim is by understanding how important each of us is to the Malchus of Hashem. Every word of tefillah you say is significant and crucial for the Malchus!
- If we have a King, we’ll receive all the brochos from the King—shalom, tovah, chai, chein, chessed, rachamim, etc. But we know: ein melech b’lo am—there’s no King without a nation. So we need to daven together, as one people, to form an Am and be zocheh to receive all these brochos.
- Everyone loves a good chiddush—and so does Hashem! You wanna hear a big chiddush? The big chiddush is that a Yid in our generation, when we’re all like pieces of wood, can still be on fire—to daven with real fire. That’s a chiddush! And we need to show Hashem that chiddush!
- L’maaseh, most of our day is spent doing silly things. But when we’re davening, we get a chance to be involved in something real. So take advantage of that moment and use the time the right way.
- The pnimiyus of klapping on a shtender is making noise from something that’s not alive.
- If someone wants to daven, he needs everyone in the whole Beis Medrash to be davening too, because we’re all connected. And if not everyone is davening, then we’re not really davening. So let’s all daven.
- The yetzer hara wants us to talk during davening. But if we don’t talk now, it’ll be better—and we’ll feel better. And then when we shmooze by the Kiddush, it’ll be even better and feel even better.
This article was found in Nekuda Tova Issue 48.
