There are certain defining elements of Rosh Hashanah tefillah that are uniquely experienced when we pray as part of a tzibbur, a congregation: the rabbi calling out the first tekiah, followed by the piercing cry of the shofar; the singing of Avinu Malkeinu; the rustle of machzor pages turning in crowded shuls; the murmur of generations standing together in judgment before Hashem. And yet, the haftarah read on the first day of Rosh Hashanah is centered on the deeply personal prayer of a single individual.
The haftarah tells the story of Chana, a woman whose lips move in prayer while no sound emerges from her mouth. Chazal teach that on Rosh Hashanah, Sarah, Rachel, and Chana were “remembered” by Hashem after years of infertility. The themes of remembrance, prayer, longing, and hope resonate deeply. But what is it about Chana’s prayer that makes it so powerful?
Chana arrives at the Mishkan carrying unbearable pain. For years she has been childless, turning to G-d in prayer. On this particular visit to Shiloh, her husband Elkana attempts to comfort her by saying, “I am better to you than ten sons” (Shmuel I 1:8). Rav Soloveitchik once explained that even though Elkana has the best of intentions, his words leave Chana broken. She suddenly feels completely alone as even her loving, well-meaning husband does not fully understand her. As a result, her prayer that year becomes something entirely different. From within her loneliness, she turns to Hashem in a way she never has before. As Rabbi Shalom Carmy writes: “We can only pray properly when we know the difference between our communion with G-d and our discourse with human beings, even with those who are close to us.”
From Chana’s pain emerges one of the most transformative prayers in Jewish history. She is vulnerable, and her words are raw. The Gemara in Berachot reads her prayer as brazen. She does not hold back in challenging G-d and making demands. She prayed upon Hashem forcefully and bluntly, not hesitating to accuse. She asks how it can be that G-d has legions of angels and of people, yet she does not fit into either category: unlike angels she needs to eat and drink, but unlike people she is unable to have children. And yet, at the same time that Chana fights for what she believes she deserves and asks difficult questions, she also has total faith in G-d and demonstrates her complete dependence on Him. She knows that G-d controls the world, and that only He can help her conceive.
On Rosh Hashanah we speak about kingship, judgment, and destiny – of all humanity passing before the Ribbono Shel Olam. The liturgy is sweeping and grand, with prayers relating to the nations of the world and Hashem’s dominion over all creation. The story of Chana reminds us, however, that beneath the majesty of Rosh Hashanah lies the personal experience of a lonely human being standing before G-d with a trembling heart.
Perhaps this is why so many halachot of tefillah are learned specifically from Chana. Judaism’s model of authentic tefillah is built around honesty, vulnerability, and the courage to stand before Hashem exactly as we are. On a day when the entire community comes to synagogue and so many of our prayers are chanted together, we learn from Chana that Hashem listens especially closely when we turn to Him personally and intimately.
On Rosh Hashanah we should not be afraid to share our most intimate feelings, thoughts, hopes, and aspirations with our Creator. Whether we pray for health, a life partner, children, peace in a difficult marriage, a sense of purpose, or the strength to face each day, we should know that Hashem is waiting to hear our tefillot. Chana presumably prayed for many years and was not answered immediately. For years she navigated the tension between faith and disappointment, but she never stopped coming to the Mishkan. She never stopped praying. She refused to despair.
When we show up on Rosh Hashanah even as we struggle; when we turn to Hashem even when we question; when we put our faith in Him even when we are frustrated – we demonstrate deep humility and recognition of He who runs the world. Our authentic prayer has enormous power.
The shofar blasts shake and open the Heavens. But I like to imagine that silent tears rise up and are collected by G-d Himself.
Shayna Goldberg is a mashgicha ruchanit for the SKA Beit Midrash for Women (Migdal Oz), the author of What Do You Really Want? Trust and Fear at Life’s Crossroads and in Everyday Living (Maggid, 2021), co-host of the podcast Women Talking Mitzvot, and an editor for Deracheha, a website about women and mitzvot.