In these difficult times, it can become difficult to hope that what is wrong in the world, and in ourselves, can be made right. Rosh Hashanah, the Jewish New Year, is a time to engage with this challenge. In this blog post, I offer a glimpse into how I grappled with this on this day.
The Biblical Hannah was always known to me as the silent woman. Hannah stands in the Jewish imagination as the taunted, childless, embittered woman who prayed with “her lips moving, but her voice not heard (1)” as she pleaded to give birth to a child. She is credited with the invention of Jewish silent prayer (2). But I heard her loud and clear this year, as if for the first time, due to my lockdown Rosh Hashanah experience.
Unlike the past 45 years when I spent Rosh Hashanah in the Synagogue, this year I experienced it around my kitchen table with my family. Part of this experience was reading out loud in Hebrew the passage about Hannah in the Prophets (Haftorah) and translating it into English for my family. It was then that the power of her words hit me.
After Hannah’s prayer had been answered, she came to the temple and gave voice to her experience:
“It was this boy I prayed for; the Lord granted me what I asked of Him... My horn [pride] is high through the LORD, My mouth is wide over my enemies...
...Do not talk, [in a] high, high [manner], let no arrogance cross your lips! The bows of the mighty are broken, [while] the faltering are girded with strength.
Men who were once sated, must hire out for bread; [but] Men who were once hungry, hunger no more. While the barren woman bears seven, the mother of many is forlorn.
...The Lord casts down, He also lifts high. He raises the poor from the dust. Lifts up the needy from the dunghill, setting them with nobles, granting them seats of honor…”. (3).
Hannah’s affirmation of hope touched me. I was moved by the image of “her horn” being elevated. The “barren,” belittled woman saw herself enlarged in her new success as a mother. It reminded me that the “little people” can become “big,” and enjoy dignity and pride.
Over the last few days, I read Things Fall Apart by Chinua Achebe (4) that describes the humiliation of Igbo tribesmen of Nigeria by their land’s Colonisers. This disturbing story acknowledges some complexities, for example benefits for the Igbo such as reducing the killing of twins (5). On the other hand, the harsh subjugation of the clans and their leaders echoes much of the continuing pain in the world. Hannah’s proclamation that, with God’s help, wrongs can be righted, offers a counterpoint to despair and encouragement to hope.
This encouragement is alluded to in Hannah’s widened “mouth.” There are times when people feel shut down by the disinterest of others in their views. The Rosh Hashanah liturgy includes a prayer for “an opening of the mouth” for those who continue to hope for divine assistance. We pray that as we seek to right wrongs, we do not succumb to the resistance by those who don’t share our vision or by obstacles that stand in our way; rather, we continue to speak our truth.
Hannah articulated a vision of the fortunes of the humble and battlers changing for the better, which continues to inspire Jews in our daily and festival prayers (6). Hannah’s words touched and inspired me on this holy day, as I hope they inspire you to continue to hope and work for better outcomes for individuals, communities and perhaps one day, even nations and humanity.
Notes:
Samuel I, 1:13
Talmud 31a
Samuel I, 1:27-2:
Achebe, C. (1958), Things Fall Apart
https://www.jstor.org/stable/
3773886 , https://www.theguardian.com/ working-in-development/2018/ jan/19/twin-baby-dies-secret- killings-nigeria-remote- communities Psalms 113:7-8, 146, 7-9