(The Jewish Home)
When Batya Burd-Oved tells the story of her teshuva journey, she explains that she “grew up in a complete religious void.”
When she was eight years old, her Russian-born refusenik father took her outside one night and asked her to look up at the sky. “Do you see a man with a beard, throwing a lightning bolt?” he queried his child. Then he shut down all future discussion by stating, “That’s the last time we’re going to talk about G-d.”
We, the members of his community in the Old City of Jerusalem, thought we knew Gershon Burd. The men at the yeshiva where he worked full time and learned Torah full time thought they knew Gershon. Batya, his wife of ten years and the mother of his five children, thought she knew Gershon.
Only after Gershon drowned in the Mediterranean on his 40th birthday, October 4, did the truth, or tantalizing glimpses of the truth, start to emerge.
On the second day of the shiva, a woman Batya knew appeared in the Burd home. As Batya recounts: “She looked at me with this look and said, ‘I’m going to tell you something you don’t know. No one in the world knows this except me and your husband.’” The woman paused, as if reluctant to divulge her secret. “For nine years, I was the front for your husband’s tzedaka [charity] fund.”
Batya was dumbfounded, “What tzedaka fund?”
The woman continued: “Your husband came to me with money every month and a list of names. I would call the people and they would come to me to pick up the money. They never knew who it came from.”
The proprietor revealed to Batya that Gershon had been paying for the helium balloons.
And then there were the helium balloons. Everyone in the Jewish Quarter of the Old City knew that a certain stationery store gives a free helium balloon to every child on his or her birthday. Since most of the children here come from large, low-income families, a helium balloon is a real glee-producer. On Bar Mitzvah or Bat Mitzvah, every child receives two free helium balloons. The Burd children were among those who relished this delightful prize.
No one knew who was sponsoring the free balloons. Paying a shiva call, the proprietor revealed to Batya that Gershon had been paying for the helium balloons. At the end of every month, he would slip into the store and surreptitiously pay for that month’s balloons.
Greg Burd was born in Odessa in 1973. Three years later his parents immigrated to Chicago. Proud but non-observant Jews, they were not equipped to give their only son and two daughters a Jewish education. Greg went to public school, played on his high school football team, became a lifeguard, and got a B.A. in business from the Indiana University.
Greg was 25 years old and working in his father’s insurance agency when his mother invited him to come with her to a Torah class at Rabbi Daniel Deutsch’s Chicago Torah Network. Greg loved the class, and made an appointment to speak to Rabbi Deutsch privately. He brought with him a list of one hundred questions.
Three months later, telling his parents, “I’m in preschool; I don’t know anything about Judaism,” Greg flew to Israel to learn Torah at Ohr Sameach Yeshiva. He returned to Chicago ten months later, but not for long. “I’m in kindergarten,” he told his parents. “I have to learn more.” He returned to Jerusalem. Every year his refrain was, “I’m in first grade. I have to learn more.” “I’m in second grade. I have to learn more.”
At the age of 30, Greg (now Gershon) married Batya Fefer, 28. She, too, came from a Russian family. Raised in Toronto, Batya was a lawyer working for Toronto’s top corporate tax firm when she decided that there had to be more to life. Her spiritual search took her to Nepal, where she climbed Mt. Annapurna, to India, where she met the Dalai Lama, and to a dozen other countries.
Back in Toronto, a friend told her about a free Birthright trip that would take her to Israel. Batya decided that that was a good way to get halfway back to India. Once in Israel, however, she started learning about Judaism at EYAHT, Aish HaTorah’s women’s division. She became observant, and in 2003 married Gershon Burd. They settled in the Old City.
Everyone considered Gershon a nice guy. One of his study partners recalled how Gershon would purposely choose a seat in the yeshiva across from the entrance so he could smile at people as they walked in. He was affable and gentle. In ten years of marriage, Batya heard her husband raise his voice only once—when he felt that someone was trying to rip off the yeshiva. But Gershon’s nice-guy persona was a mere front for his carefully hidden true identity.
Three years ago, Gershon approached Rabbi Nissim Tagger, the head of Yeshivas Bircas HaTorah, where Gershon was both learning and working as administrator. Gershon asked Rabbi Tagger to accept as a student a young man named David, whom Gershon intuited had tremendous potential. Rabbi Tagger had seen David, with his long, curled peyot and hippie-ish dress. “He doesn’t fit in at all with our Yeshivah,” Rabbi Tagger refused.
“He looks like that, but it’s not who he really is,” Gershon begged.
“Will he pay tuition?” Rabbi Tagger queried.
“No,” Gershon answered simply. “He has no money.”
“I have no scholarships available,” replied Rabbi Tagger.
The next day, Gershon returned to Rabbi Tagger and said, “David’s parents decided to pay for most of his tuition, and he’ll do odd jobs to pay for the rest.”
With misgivings, Rabbi Tagger decided to give David a two-week trial period.
Only after Gershon’s death did Rabbi Tagger find out that it was Gershon who paid David’s tuition.
Three years later, David is an accomplished Torah scholar at the yeshiva. Only after Gershon’s death did Rabbi Tagger find out that David’s parents had not paid a penny. It was Gershon who paid David’s tuition. “He lied to me straight to my face,” Rabbi Tagger says, holding back his tears.
The wife of one of the students of the yeshiva had not seen her parents back in America for several years. When she received news that her mother was ill, she wanted to fly back, but she didn’t have enough money for airfare. Hearing about it, Gershon told the woman about a credit card company that was offering a fantastic deal. If she signed up for the credit card and paid just $50, she would receive enough miles to get a free round-trip ticket. Gershon even showed her the promotion on his laptop, and offered to sign her up, explaining that he too would get miles for referring her.
The woman happily gave Gershon the information to sign her up, got her ticket, and flew to America to be with her mother. She never knew that Gershon had made up the whole promotion, even devising the graphic of the ad. Gershon himself paid for her ticket.
Once Gershon decided that a struggling family in the community really needed to take their children for a fun day at “Kef-Tzuba,” an attraction with giant blow-up trampolines, castles, etc. The family lacked the funds for such an outing, so Gershon got them a free coupon. They never knew that Gershon had paid for their admission and fabricated the professional-looking coupon.
Telling this tale, Batya laughs. “Gershon was a shyster. I only know what I know because I caught him on some things.”
When Gershon became aware of couples who were experiencing marital friction, he would surreptitiously pay for therapy sessions for them, with neither the couple nor the therapist aware of who was paying.
Nine years ago, Gershon got an idea. He created “Western Wall Prayers,” and put Batya in charge of it. This is a service where people all over the world can pay to have someone go to the Kotel and pray for them for 40 consecutive days. Not only have hundreds of people had their prayers answered through this age-old custom, but also the money raised supports many families of Torah scholars in the Old City.
At the shiva, the Rosh Yeshiva disclosed that Gershon once came to him and asked if it was permissible according to Jewish law to give the “prayer agents” fake names to pray for. It was a low period for Western Wall Prayers, and Gershon was worried that the people supported could not afford to lose their regular checks. In order to maintain their dignity, he wanted to continue the funding from his own pocket by giving out fictitious names for which to pray.
Why did Gershon go to such lengths to hide his charitable acts? “He really believed,” explains Batya, “that if the giver gets something from his chesed [act of loving-kindness], it diminishes the chesed. So if someone knows what you did, it means you got something from it, recognition or whatever. The mitzvah is much more powerful if you get nothing … except in the Next World.”
The mystery, of course, is where did the money come from? The Burds were not well-to-do. They didn’t even own a car. They had no inherited wealth and Gershon’s salary as yeshiva administrator was sufficient to cover only the family’s living expenses. Sitting across from Batya at the shiva, I ask her, “Where did Gershon get the money?”
“I have no idea!” she exclaims. “I really don’t know. For years we had a crack in the sink that we couldn’t afford to repair. I have no idea where he got the money to do all this chesed that we’re hearing about now. No idea.”
Daniel Rostenne, Gershon’s best friend and study partner, solves this mystery. “Gershon spent next to nothing on himself,” he explains. “He bought his shoes used on EBay. Used shoes! He bought his suits used on EBay. He would brag to me, ‘Look at this suit. I got it for $10, plus $10 shipping!’ He got his laptop, a used MacBook Air that sells new for $1200, for just a few hundred dollars. He simply didn’t spend money on his personal needs.”
Gershon scrimped on his own needs, so he could be generous in satisfying the needs of others.
Gershon’s red carpet to the Next World is lined with helium balloons, fake coupons and an anonymous charity fund.
His final deal was an overnight getaway at Tel Aviv’s Sheraton Hotel for just him and Batya to celebrate his 40th birthday, paid for with credit card points. Gershon’s favorite recreation was swimming in the ocean. He and Batya deposited their things in their hotel room and went to the beach. Taking one look at the muddy water, Batya opted to sit on the shore. Gershon, an expert swimmer and trained lifeguard, plunged into the waves. Minutes later, a rock or large piece of debris struck him in the back of the neck. Knocked unconscious, he was under water for 15 minutes before Batya, desperately scanning the sea with her eyes, saw her husband’s body float up toward the beach.
A few hours before the funeral, Batya said to one of the yeshiva students: ‘There’s a plan, and what was supposed to happen, happened. Gershon is smiling now in his world. It’ll be hard for me and the children. But Gershon is shining.”
Gershon’s red carpet to the Next World is lined with helium balloons, fake coupons, fictional credit card promotions, an anonymous charity fund, undercover tuition payments, surreptitiously sponsored marriage counseling sessions, and how many other hidden acts of chesed that we will never know.
Hiddenness is a sacred value in Judaism. In fact, according to Jewish lore, the world is sustained in every generation by the merit of 36 hidden tzaddikim. Could a Russian-born former football player from Chicago be one of them?
To donate to the fund for Batya and her children, click here: www.bircas.org/donate
You need a husband, a wife, or perhaps a new baby? Your first cousin needs a job or your grandmother has cancer and you are hoping you can do something to relieve their suffering.
Batya Burd is on the other end of the phone, or rather, the computer screen, helping to transform these life problems into personal prayer requests which she then arranges to have personally taken to the place where all prayers go up – the Western Wall in Jerusalem.
“What’s important, is that the prayers are personally said at the Kotel for 40 days. If a day is accidentally missed, our prayer agents (shaliachs) have to start again. They (her team of Rabbis and Jerusalem Torah scholars), change their whole lives to make it to this special place to pray for this person. It becomes one of their main priorities, and their mesiras nefesh (self-sacrifice) gives it even more power.”
Burd, 36, who gave up a future as a Toronto corporate lawyer for a pious existence just steps from the Western Wall, came up with the idea together with her husband Gershon Burd, 36, after he made a similar trek to the Wall for 40 days to meet his beloved.
“I had been dating religiously for over 5 years and it just wasn’t happening for me. I met great girls, but something was always missing so I felt I had to do something big.” says Gershon, who met his future wife within weeks of finishing his 40 days.
What pushed Burd from idea to action in developing www.westernwallprayers.org was the poverty she saw around her in Jerusalem. “It is difficult to see so many people, really living hand-to-mouth. They are spiritually blessed, but they need a lot of material help. At the same time, there are so many people abroad with more than enough materially, but who are really struggling spiritually and in life. We’re trying to match those needs to each other so that everyone wins.”
And so far, hundreds of people have ‘won’ based on the raft of success stories the site proudly displays. From ‘Michael’, 32, finding his favorite job, to ‘Nancy’, 45, who overcame a debilitating disease. Burd says donors often become friends with her family or assistants, even after their problems are resolved. She also notes that the process is not guaranteed, because G-d has the “final say”.
Jews believe that praying at the Western Wall in Jerusalem is like speaking directly to God, but those who can’t travel there themselves still have a means to pass on their wishes – through a ‘prayer agent’.
Every day Daryl Michel visits the Western Wall, Jerusalem’s holiest site for Jews. He comes for those who can’t.
Daryl is known as a ‘prayer agent’ and he prays for people whom he’s actually never met. He receives their prayers via email and, following an ancient Jewish tradition, visits the Western Wall for forty consecutive days to pray for each wish to be answered.
“Forty days is the time we see in the Torah itself, the actual forty days is special because it’s when Moses went up to receive the tablets, to receive the Torah,” Daryl Michel explains
Jews believe the Western Wall is where the ancient temple stood, and praying there is almost like having a direct line to God. While it’s better to come in person, religious Jews believe the tradition still works if the prayer is by proxy. While Daryl’s praying there, the person he’s praying for must be doing the same wherever in the world they are, and neither of them can miss one of the forty days.
Gershon Burd was his own prayer agent, hoping it would bring him lasting love. He’d already dated fifty women and was on the point of giving up when he finally met his wife.
“I had been going to the Western Wall for forty days for a few different cycles, praying and hoping and immersed in developing myself in order to be worthy of meeting my soul mate,” Gershon recalls.
His soul mate Batya was so moved by her husband’s experience that she decided to set up a website to bring people’s prayers to Jerusalem.
“The fact that they know someone is praying for them encourages them to remember to pray every day for themselves. The fact that they have somebody online, we’re coaching them through the process, we compose their prayers for them, we tailor to get them clear on what they’re looking for and to give them a sense of entitlement that it’s okay to actually ask for it,” Batya believes.
By Martine Berens
There was a time appealing to God at the holiest place on earth for Jews – the Western Wall – was only for those physically in Jerusalem. Now anyone can say a prayer at the Wall while in the comfort of their own home, office or anywhere in between, thanks to a new Web site.
Set up by Batya Burd in 2003, www.westernwallprayers.org, aims to give people a chance to have their prayers answered at the Western Wall, bringing religion right into the home.
People e-mail Batya with their problems, hopes and fears, regarding marriage, health or business success, and make a donation toward families and selected Torah institutions in Jerusalem. In return, Batya [arranges for] an Orthodox man [or woman to act] as a proxy and pray for the donor at the Western Wall, for 40 consecutive days. Parallel to this, the donor is expected to recite a short psalm and to undertake a mitzvah (good deed) to further strengthen the power of the prayer.
Burd says that the project was initially the idea of her husband, Gershon. “He gave me a Web site program, told me the idea and I took off from there.”
When asked about the motives behind the Web site, Batya relates, “When my husband was in yeshiva [religous school], his roommate was given money to go to the [Western] Wall and pray for 40 days on someone else’s behalf. That’s when he first thought it was a good idea.”
It was later on, after Gershon prayed for 40 days on behalf of someone else, that he met and married Batya. He was convinced that they as a couple needed to make this mystical act, or “segula,” available to the world at large. Batya says, “He was just very grateful that he had the opportunity and wanted to share it with others.”
What seems like a most unlikely collaboration; ancient prayer and modern technology, has also proved to be a successful one. To date, Batya says, there have been over 130 success stories, the majority of which are written up as a form of testimony on the Western Wall Web site.
Apparently the miracles show no sign of ending. Batya estimates that there are at least 175 of these stories of wishes coming true, and that “just this month I heard about 15.”
Stories come in from all over the world, but it appears that a majority of those making contact with the divine at a distance originate from North America, particularly seekers in Los Angeles, New York, Oregon, Massachusetts and New Jersey. Yet they have also been flooding in from Canada, South Africa, the Netherlands and Australia.
One such story, sent in by Paulina Aguilar from Chile, mentions how she prayed for 40 days to become pregnant. Almost exactly one year later, her daughter Aurora was born. Paulina states that she is “very, very happy and will always be grateful.” And she goes on to send her regards to her “prayer agent.”
To the cynical among us, these successes may be construed as being “coincidences.” When asked whether this could be so, Batya comments, “There is no word in Hebrew for coincidence because the Torah doesn’t believe in coincidence. Everything, including when a leaf drops in a particular place is divine providence and divinely construed, it’s just that people tend to write things off as unconnected.”
Batya believes that everything that happens is connected and when asked whether she thinks the stories happened because of the prayers she gives a humble answer: “I’m too small to speak on behalf of God, but I can only offer a lot of successes, in very close proximity to when the prayers ended, and you be the judge.
“I think it speaks for itself that it’s worth a try!”
By GIL ZOHARSpecial to the Jewish Press
JERUSALEM – According to a kabbal ist tradition, God answers the prayers of those who visit the Western Wall for 40 consecutive days. But not everyone lives in Jerusalem, and even denizens of the Holy City find it a challenge to visit the Old City shrine daily for nearly six weeks to avail themselves of divine intervention. Recognizing this need, in 2004 Jewish Quarter resident Batya Burd, 33, established Western Wall Prayers to say proxy prayers at the Kotel for those unable to be there personally.
The requested donation? Just over $2 per day, or $90 for heavenly help, smiles the petite brunette – who was a corporate lawyer in Toronto, Canada before getting into the God game.
“Once I was told I was selling snake oil. But that’s okay,” she demurs. “I’m not doing this for public approval. You have to believe in God to actually believe this works. Otherwise it’s just superstition.”
Burd herself and her Chicago-born husband, Gershon. are proof of the efficacy of prayer but stress there are no guarantees. The two met in December 2002 a week and a half after Gershon had completed his own 40-day stint at the Kotel – where his prayers had focused on finding his besherte (God-given match). After five dates in a whirlwind 15 days, the couple became engaged and were married two months later, she smiles.
A son and daughter quickly followed. While Gershon works as the executive director of the Yeshivas Bircas ha-Torah seminary, money is tight, Burd acknowledges.
“In our first year of marriage before this service was started, we had to rely on miracles almost weekly just to survive. I remember once we owed 200 shekels and had to pay it that day. We didn’t have it, and just turned to God. A couple of hours later a friend came to the door with exactly 200 shekels. She put it in my hand and asked if I could buy a book for her on my credit card because hers wasn’t working. She gave me the cash instead. That gave us 30 days to pay. And it seemed as if the whole year was like that. But we always made it, and learned that HaShem always provides.”
In the Torah, 40 is more than a lucky numberIt is no coincidence that the segula which Batya Burd received from Dayan Yaacov Fischer, a noted mystic in Jerusalem, involves the number 40, a numeral pregnant with significance in Jewish tradition.
Indeed Burd’s biography reads as an extended miracle of Jewish survival. Her parents Efim and Anna Fefer are Russian scientists who in 1973 were able to escape Ukraine, then part of the U.S.S.R., on exit permits for Israel. Like tens of thousands of Soviet emigres, the Fefers were disappointed with the reality of life in the Jewish state. Indeed their arrival coincided with the disastrous 1973 Yom Kippur War.
In 1976, with their new-born daughter in tow, the Fefers decamped to Ostia Lido, Italy outside Rome where they waited three difficult years for a visa to Canada. Raised in the Toronto suburb of Thornhill, and educated at the prestigious Osgoode Hall Law School, Batya – then called Lisa Fefer – came to Israel on a life-changing 10-day Birthright trip in January 2001. The rest, she observes, is history.
Apart from Burd’s legal background specializing in entertainment contracts, she is also a certified therapist trained at the Jerusalem Therapy Psycho-Spiritual Institute. Besides composing the prayers to be said verbally at the Western Wall, the former lawyer does a lot of counseling. “It’s easier for a third party to see straight. Often people can’t see beyond their suffering,” she said. “I use a lot of lawyerly skills.”
And why does God give people issues? “To help them improve,” she responds.
In May 2004 Burd decided to set up her personal prayer business. Two years later she obtained not-for-profit amuta status. Today the charity employs herself and another half-time worker, and pays 35 prayer agents “99 per cent of whom are either teaching or learning Torah.”
Each surrogate worshipper spends a minimum of 10 minutes of prayer per party. Some remain for hours at the Kotel – which formed the western retaining wall of King Herod’s massive enlargement of the Temple complex on Mount Moriah, and from which according to Jewish tradition God’s presence is said to permanently dwell.
Burd declines to reveal payment. “It’s a sensitive subject,” she notes, adding the largesse is well-appreciated and well-spent by her Torah team, all of whom are “spirituality rich but cash-poor”.
Bottom line, since 2004 Western Wall Prayers has served more than 700 people seeking divine intervention on matters such as fertility, health or marriage. Burd points to a raft of success stories of prayers answered, the most moving of which are posted online at westernwallprayers.org.
Unusual requests have included divine help in being released from prison, losing weight and obtaining American citizenship. One Christian donor, who sought prayers for Jesus’ resurrection , was politely declined, she says.
Though the majority of donors live in New York and Toronto, others are from the Philippines, South Africa, Australia and Britain. Three quarters are Jewish. Promoted by word of mouth and advertisements on Google and the haredi newspaper Hamodia, numbers are increasing, Burd adds.
“We pray for you out of gratitude for your donation,” she notes.
Burd claims donors feel very satisfied with her service, and have reported “nearly 140” stories of prayers answered, ranging from love discovered to health regained. Many donors are repeats. “Even people who didn’t see open miracles feel very grateful for how connected they feel during the process,” she concludes. “It’s not magic, but it is a Torah recipe for success.”
“There’s scientific evidence that prayer works.”
For more information, contact Batya Burd atbburd@westernwallprayers.org.
By GIL ZOHARISRAEL CORRESPONDENT
According to a kabbalistic tradition, God answers the prayers of those who visit the Western Wall for 40 consecutive days.
But not everyone lives in Jerusalem, and even denizens of the Holy City find it a challenge to visit the Old City shrine daily for nearly six weeks to avail themselves of divine intervention. Recognizing this need, in 2004 Jewish Quarter resident Batya Burd, 33, established Western Wall Prayers to say proxy prayers at the Kotel for those unable to be there personally.
The requested donation? $2 per day, or $80 for heavenly help, smiles the petite brunette, who was a corporate lawyer in Toronto before getting into the God game. “Once I was told I was selling snake oil. But that’s okay,” she demurs. “I’m not doing this for public approval. You have to believe in God to actually believe this works. Otherwise it’s just superstition.”
Burd herself, and her Chicago-born husband Gershon, are proof of the efficacy of the 40-day ritual, she continues, even as she emphasizes there is no guarantee.
The two met in December 2002 a week-and-a-half after Gershon had completed his own 40-day stint at the Kotel — where his prayers had focused on finding his besherte (God designated match).
After five dates in a whirlwind 15 days, the couple became engaged and were married two months later, she smiles.
A son and daughter quickly followed. While Gershon works as the executive director of the Yeshivas Bircas ha-Torah seminary, money is tight, Burd acknowledges.
“In our first year of marriage before this service was started, we had to rely on miracles almost weekly just to survive. I remember once we owed 200 shekels and had to pay it that day. We didn’t have it, and just turned to God.
“A couple of hours later a friend came to the door with exactly 200 shekels. She put it in my hand and asked if I could buy a book for her on my credit card because hers wasn’t working. She gave me the cash instead. That gave us 30 days to pay.
“And it seemed as if the whole year was like that. But we always made it, and learned that HaShem [God] always provides.”
Indeed Burd’s biography reads as an extended miracle of Jewish survival.
Her parents, Efim and Anna Fefer, are Russian scientists who in 1973 were able to escape Ukraine, then part of the U.S.S.R., on exit permits for Israel.
Like tens of thousands of Soviet émigrés, the Fefers were disappointed with the reality of life in the Jewish state. Indeed their arrival coincided with the disastrous 1973 Yom Kippur War.
In 1976, with their newborn daughter in tow, the Fefers decamped to Ostia Lido, Italy, outside Rome, where they waited three difficult years for a visa to Canada.
Raised in the Toronto suburb of Thornhill, and trained at the prestigious Osgoode Hall Law School, Batya — then called Lisa Fefer — came to Israel on a lifechanging 10-day Birthright trip in January 2001.
The rest, she observes, is history.
The prayer business
Apart from Burd’s legal background specializing in entertainment contracts, she is also a certified therapist trained at the Jerusalem Therapy Psycho Spiritual Institute.
Besides composing the prayers to be said verbally at the Western Wall, the former lawyer does a lot of counseling.
“It’s easier for a third party to see straight. Often people can’t see beyond their suffering,” she explains. “I use a lot of lawyerly skills.”
And why does God give people issues? “To help them improve,” she responds.
In May 2004 Burd decided to set up her personal prayer business. Two years later she obtained not-for-profit amuta status. Today the charity employs herself and another half-time worker, and pays 35 prayer agents, “99 per cent of whom are either teaching or learning Torah.”
Each surrogate worshipper spends a minimum of 10 minutes of prayer per party.
Some remain for hours at the Kotel — which formed the western retaining wall of King Herod’s massive enlargement of the Temple complex on Mount Moriah, and from which (according to Jewish tradition) God’s presence is said to permanently dwell.
Burd declines to reveal payment. “It’s a sensitive subject,” she notes, adding the largesse is well-appreciated and well-spent by her Torah team, all of whom are spirituality-rich but cash-poor.
Bottom line: since 2004, Western Wall Prayers has served more than 700 people seeking divine intervention on matters such as fertility, health or marriage. Burd points to a raft of success stories of prayers answered, the most moving of which are posted at westernwallprayers.org.
Unusual requests have included divine help in being released from prison, losing weight, and obtaining American citizenship.
One Christian donor, who sought prayers for Jesus’s resurrection, was politely declined, she says.
Though the majority of donors live in New York and Toronto, others are from the Philippines, South Africa, Australia and Britain. Three-quarters are Jewish.
Promoted by word of mouth and advertisements on Google and the haredi newspaper Hamodia, numbers are increasing, Burd adds. “We pray for you out of gratitude for your donation,” she notes.
Burd claims donors feel very satisfied with her service, and have reported “nearly 140” stories of prayers answered, ranging from love discovered to health re gained. Many donors are repeats.
“Even people who didn’t see open miracles feel very grateful for how connected they feel during the process,” she concludes. “It’s not magic, but it is a Torah recipe for success.”
“There’s scientific evidence that prayer works,” she says.
According to a kabbalist tradition, God answers the prayers of those who visit the Western Wall for 40 consecutive days. But not everyone lives in Jerusalem, and even denizens of the Holy City find it a challenge to visit the Old City shrine daily for nearly six weeks to avail themselves of divine intervention.
In 2004, Jewish Quarter resident Batya Burd, 33, recognized this need and established Western Wall Prayers to say proxy prayers at the Kotel for those unable to be there personally.
The requested donation is $2 per day, or $80 for heavenly help, the petite brunette smilingly relates. She was a corporate lawyer in Toronto, Canada before getting into the God business.
“I was once told that I was selling snake oil. But that’s okay,” she demurs. “I’m not doing this for public approval. You have to believe in God to actually believe this works. Otherwise it’s just superstition.”
Burd and her Chicago-born husband Gershon are proof of the efficacy of prayer, but stress that there are no guarantees. The two met in December 2002, a week and a half after Gershon had completed his own 40-day stint at the Kotel – where his prayers had focused on finding his bashert (God-given match). After five dates in a whirlwind 15 days, she happily says, the couple became engaged and married two months later.
A son and daughter quickly followed. While Gershon works as the executive director of the Yeshivas Bircha-Torah seminary, money is tight, Burd acknowledges.
“In our first year of marriage, before this service was started, we had to rely on miracles almost weekly just to survive. I remember once we owed 200 shekels and had to pay it that day. We didn’t have it, and just turned to God. A couple of hours later a friend came to the door with exactly 200 shekels. She put it in my hand and asked if I could buy a book for her on my credit card because hers wasn’t working. She gave me the cash instead. That gave us 30 days to pay. And it seemed as if the whole year was like that. But we always made it, and learned that Hashem always provides.”
Indeed Burd’s biography reads as an extended miracle of Jewish survival. Her parents, Efim and Anna Fefer, are Russian scientists who in 1973 were able to escape Ukraine (then part of the Soviet Union) on exit permits for Israel. Like tens of thousands of Soviet émigrés, the Fefers were disappointed with the reality of life in the Jewish state. No wonder, as their arrival coincided with the disastrous 1973 Yom Kippur War.
In 1976, with their newborn daughter in tow, the Fefers decamped to Ostia Lido, Italy outside Rome where they waited three difficult years for a visa to Canada. Raised in the Toronto suburb of Thornhill and educated at the prestigious Osgoode Hall Law School, Batya – then called Lisa Fefer – came to Israel on a life-changing 10-day Birthright trip in January 2001. The rest, she observes, is history.
Apart from Burd’s legal background specializing in entertainment contracts, she is also a certified therapist trained at the Jerusalem Therapy Psycho-Spiritual Institute. Besides composing the prayers to be said verbally at the Western Wall, the former lawyer does a lot of counseling. “It’s easier for a third party to see straight. Often people can’t see beyond their suffering,” she explains. “I use a lot of lawyerly skills.”
And why does God give people issues? “To help them improve,” she responds.
In May 2004, Burd decided to set up her personal prayer business. Two years later, she obtained not-for-profit amuta status. Today the charity employs her and another part-time worker, and pays 35 prayer agents – “99 per cent of whom are either teaching or learning Torah.”
Each surrogate worshipper spends a minimum of 10 minutes of prayer per party. Some remain for hours at the Kotel – which formed the western, retaining wall of King Herod’s massive enlargement of the Temple complex on Mount Moriah, and from which according to Jewish tradition God’s presence is said to permanently dwell.
Burd declines to reveal payment. “It’s a sensitive subject,” she notes, adding the largesse is well appreciated and well spent by her Torah team, all of whom are spirituality-rich but cash-poor.
Here’s the bottom line: Since 2004, Western Wall Prayers has served more than 700 people seeking divine intervention on matters such as fertility, health or marriage. Burd points to many success stories of prayers answered, the most moving of which are posted online at www.westernwallprayers.org.
Unusual requests have included divine help in being released from prison, losing weight and obtaining American citizenship. One Christian donor, who sought prayers for Jesus’s resurrection, was politely declined, she says.
Though the majority of donors live in New York and Toronto, others are from the Philippines, South Africa, Australia and Britain. Three quarters are Jewish. Promoted by word of mouth and advertising, numbers are increasing, Burd adds.
“We pray for you out of gratitude for your donation,” she notes.
Burd claims donors feel very satisfied with her service, and have reported “nearly 140” stories of prayers answered – ranging from love discovered to health regained. Many donors are repeats. “Even people who didn’t see open miracles feel very grateful for how connected they feel during the process,” she concludes. “It’s not magic, but it is a Torah recipe for success.”
“There’s scientific evidence that prayer works.”
For more information, contact Batya Burd at 011-972-2-627-7068 or bburd@westernwallprayers.org.
JERUSALEM — Some want a wife. Others long for children, a miracle cure for illness or a quick fix for their finances.
Believers are seeking divine intervention for as little as $80 at WesternWallPrayers.org, a Jerusalem-based website that dispatches a squad of “agents” to pray at one of Judaism’s holiest sites on behalf of those who can’t get there themselves.
Batya Burd, a devout Jew who lives in Jerusalem’s Old City, set up her proxy prayer business to provide spiritual succour and, she says, religious miracles for the faithful while raising funds for those who devote their lives to biblical study.
The 33-year-old mother of two, who gave up a career as a corporate lawyer in Canada to come to Israel, collects e-mailed requests from around the world, then composes personal prayers for each client and assigns them an agent.
he emissary recites the prayer at Jerusalem’s Western Wall – a remnant of the ancient Jewish temple compound – every day for 40 days. Many visitors to the holy site write their prayers on slips of paper, which they press into the wall’s crevices.
Ms. Burd has composed prayers for as many as 800 people and says she has several “miracles” under her belt, including a man who met his soulmate, a woman who won the lottery and two people who say their cancer disappeared after they signed up for prayer.
Skeptics will argue that believers looking for results will always find them, and that many so-called answers to prayers are simply coincidences. Some might say it’s a scam.
The minimum donation is $2 a day, which will pay a member of Ms. Burd’s 35-strong squad of observant Jews to pray at the Western Wall for 40 days. A total of $720 (all funds U.S.) will get you exclusive prayer at the wall and at an Old City synagogue.
A special request and at least $1,800 will pay for 10 observant men to pray together for 40 days deep in the tunnels under the Western Wall that are off-limits to public worship.
Ms. Burd splits the money between the members of the prayer squad, who live in Jerusalem and don’t earn big salaries because they devote most of their time to biblical study rather than secular work.
She believes she herself was an answer to her husband’s prayers, after he completed the 40-day prayer marathon to ask for a wife after a string of failed dating forays.
About the same time as her future husband was asking for a wife, Ms. Burd says, she decided it was time to settle down. Days later a friend announced she knew just the man, and five dates later the two were married.
Was it a miracle?
“It was certainly out of the ordinary for it to be so clear and to get married so fast,” said Ms. Burd. “I guess I’ll only really know when I die.”