From the Teachings of the Lubavitcher Rebbe Rabbi Menachem Mendel Schneerson, Zt”l
The haftora of the first day of Rosh Hashana relates the story of Chana. Chana, who was childless, came to the Sanctuary to pray. In the merit of her prayers, she was blessed with a son, the prophet Shmuel (Samuel).
When Eli the priest saw Chana so immersed in her prayers that she seemed to be oblivious to her surroundings, he suspected her of being drunk. The Midrash explains that Eli suspected her of being "drunk" in the act of praying.
"I am pouring out my soul before G-d," Chana replied. I am not praying simply for the sake of praying; my soul is uniting with G-d.
On Rosh Hashana, the Day of Judgment, we appeal to G-d to fulfill our spiritual and material needs. We ask Him for healthy children, long lives, and an abundant livelihood.
Rosh Hashana is also the day of G-d's coronation as King. We accept His sovereignty by nullifying ourselves before Him. When we are completely nullified, we are not aware of our personal wants and desires. Our sense of self is superseded by the awareness of being in G-d's Presence.
This presents us with a seeming contradiction. If Rosh Hashana is characterized by a nullification of self, how can we simultaneously pray for the fulfillment of our personal requests?
To explain:
When a Jew prays to G-d on Rosh Hashana, his prayer is an extension of the process of coronation. While he may be asking G-d for material blessings, his true intention - whether consciously or unconsciously - is the desire to spread awareness of G-d's kingship in the world. On the deepest level, the physical body is a medium through which we establish a dwelling place for G-d in this world. By praying for material blessing, the Jew is asking for Divine assistance in fulfilling his G-dly mission.
It was this concept that was misunderstood by Eli. His contention was that when a Jew prays, his awareness of being in G-d's Presence should preclude him from making personal requests. When he saw Chana praying for a son, he mistakenly concluded that she had forgotten G-d's Presence in the Sanctuary.
Not so, was Chana's reply. My desire for a son is not a personal desire, but a wish to be able to fulfill my greater mission in life. Without a son, my soul cannot serve G-d properly. Indeed, this is evident in the vow Chana made, that if G-d blessed her with a child, she would give him over to the priest for a life of total dedication to Divine service. Chana wasn't asking G-d to fulfill her personal request; she was praying for G-d to fulfill His own needs!
So too is it with us on Rosh Hashana. Our petitions may be personal in focus, but their true essence is the soul's communication with G-d.
In the same way that G-d answered Chana's prayer, so too may He accede to our requests and grant the entire Jewish people a good and sweet year to come.
Reprinted from the Rosh Hashanah 5761/2000 edition of L’Chaim. (Adapted from Volume 19 of Likutei Sichot.)
A Cry from the Heart
An analogy is given to explain the sounding of the shofar on Rosh Hashana: There was once a king who sent his only son to a distant land to learn about its peoples and customs. As time passed, the prince's royal garb became faded and torn, and he even forgot how to speak his native tongue.
One day the prince heard that his father, the king, would be visiting the region. "How will I be able to approach him?" he thought to himself. "My clothes are torn, and I cannot speak the language."
The son decided that he would simply call out to his father in a cry without words, emanating from the heart, which the king would surely recognize. This is the call of the shofar, which appeals to the King's very Essence. (The Baal Shem Tov)
Reprinted from the Rosh Hashanah 5761/2000 edition of L’Chai
