No, it’s not an error, that’s how the poem reads that is found in Gates of Prayer (Blue) in the Special Theme section, under “Quest.” In full, this is the poem:
O incognito god, anonymous lord,
with what name shall I call you? Where shall I
discover the syllable, the mystic word
that shall invoke you from eternity?
is that sweet sound the heart makes, clocking life,
your appellation? Is the noise of thunder, it?
is it the hush of peace, the sound of strife?...
More and more I’ve come to appreciate the open-ended perspective on God that we Jews have always had. When working with those choosing Judaism, it’s not their birth religion’s rejection, even fury, when questioning faith that draws them away; rather they come to Judaism because of the permission we give even to cradle-Jews to question faith, even the options we all have in understanding God.
Across the years I would take an informal survey of people’s birth religion and the numbers that convert. Most, I must say, are Catholic. What’s interesting is that there are few Episcopalians. I once asked an Episcopalian I knew well why he thought that to be the case. I had my own idea which he confirmed. “We’ve already revolted; our denomination has broken out of the prison of intolerance.” So even though the Reformation in Christianity took place so long ago, that breath of fresh air for them has come down, as we say, from generation to generation. On the other hand, seeking God in new and creative ways isn’t much of an option for Catholics and those of some other branches of Christianity.
One proof of our openness to “Quest” is not only the poem in question, but the fact that it is found in a prayerbook that has ten different worship services for Shabbat evening, each one having another God-theme, as it were. One of them has a underlying statement of questioning, one might say a tentative theology that pops up now and again (we just couldn’t get ourselves to eliminate every indication of God). One views God in mystic terms; one appreciates God as the source of justice. And there are more. But whatever is written in our prayerbooks we should know and not take for granted our openness and how magnetic that is for those born and raised in other religions who now are undertaking their own “quest” and finding it in Judaism.
The end of that poem is as compelling as its beginning:
I have no title for your glorious throne,
and for your presence not a glorious word, -
only that wanting you, by that alone
I do invoke you, knowing I am heard.
(Speaking of God, a poor alcoholic with a wry (not Rye) sense of humor, who didn’t believe in imposing on the Lord, prayed, “Dear God, all I’m asking from You is bread to eat and clothes to wear. Nothing more. The booze I’ll buy myself!”)