A Son Remains a Son — And We Remain His Children
A Son Remains a Son
And We Remain His Children
Just a few months ago, the eyes of the world turned to England for the historic coronation of King Charles III. Among the many dignitaries and royal figures in attendance, one presence stood out, not because of what he wore, but because of what he didn't. Prince Harry, once a central figure in the royal family, arrived in a simple suit, absent of all royal insignia. He stood far from his previous place of honor and slipped away quietly after the ceremony, without fanfare or formality.
This same Prince Harry had previously distanced himself from the monarchy, moved abroad, and published a book that painted a painful and, at times, critical picture of his upbringing and the royal institution. The book quickly became a bestseller and was translated into numerous languages, reaching millions of readers. It caused shockwaves throughout the Commonwealth and was widely viewed as a public embarrassment for the royal family.
And yet, when asked how he felt about his estranged son attending his coronation, King Charles was quoted as saying he was absolutely delighted.
How can we understand this response? How could a father, after being so publicly hurt and humiliated, express joy at the arrival of a son who has caused him so much pain?
The answer is deeply human and deeply emotional: because a father never stops loving his child. No matter how distant the relationship, no matter how complicated the history, a parent's love is unconditional. At the end of the day, a son remains a son.
And if that is the depth of a human father's love, how much more so is the love that our Heavenly Father, the King of all kings, has for us, His children?
On Rosh Hashanah, the day of Hashem's coronation, we walk into shul carrying the baggage of our lives. Our mistakes, our shortcomings, our spiritual struggles, none of it is hidden. We don't always feel worthy. And yet, simply by showing up, by being present in the King's court on the day of His coronation, we declare: "Hashem, You are our King!"
And He is absolutely delighted.
One of the most touching moments during the Yamim Noraim tefillos happens at the very start of Shacharis, when the chazzan chants the word “HaMelech." On a regular Shabbos or Yom Tov, the chazzan begins davening from the amud. But on Rosh Hashanah and Yom Kippur, a striking custom is observed: the chazzan begins with "HaMelech” from his place, before stepping forward. Why?
Rav Avi Wiesenfeld explains this minhag: Hashem is telling us that there is no single place where one must be to proclaim “HaMelech.” You don't need to be in the front. You don't need to have a flawless past or a polished resume of mitzvos. Wherever you are, physically, emotionally, spiritually, you are invited to crown Hashem. And when you do, He responds with overwhelming love.
No matter where you've been, no matter what you've done, no matter how long it's been since you felt close, you showed up. And to our Father in Heaven, that means everything.
This Rosh Hashanah let's walk into shul with the knowledge that Hashem is waiting for us with open arms. Let us proclaim “HaMelech" from wherever we stand and may we all be written and sealed for a year of life, bracha, health, and closeness to our King. Kesivah v’Chasimah Tovah.
