|
I am here. הנני.
Every year, I find this tefillah recited by the shaliach tzibbur before Musaf to be among the most intense parts of my Rosh Hashana experience - so much so that I often can’t resist standing up and reciting the prayer along with the chazzan.
On the one hand, this tefillah recognizes the blatant inadequacy of our own presence. Avraham famously uttered the words “הנני” when Hashem called him to sacrifice his son. Moshe responds “הנני” to God’s revelation at the burning bush. Yaakov invokes this phrase when Hashem summons to him to leave Lavan’s house, as does Shmuel in his first experience with prophecy. As for the rest of us, though - the machzor recognizes that there are few saints or prophets among us:
“I stand here, impoverished in good deeds, perturbed and frightened in fear of Him, Who is enthroned upon the praises of Yisrael... I have come to stand and to plead before You on behalf of Your people, Israel, who have appointed me their messenger; even though I am not worthy or qualified for the task.”
The terrified הנני of our tefillot acknowledges the paradox of our presence. Who among us can rightfully and fully declare: “I am here” for others? Who among us is able to put aside our work, our stress, our self interest, our distractions, our anxieties - or even just our phones - in order to be truly present for the child or friend or spouse and especially the stranger when they cry out for our attention? Who among us can unwaveringly and uncompromisingly state: “Here I stand” on behalf of the values, the responsibilities, the traditions, the identities, and the communities that we’ve committed ourselves to? Honestly - who among us could dare utter with any confidence the הנני of Avraham, Moshe, Yaakov, or Shmuel?
At the same time, though, perhaps this is the aspiration that our tefillah here calls for. Perhaps, as we rise for Mussaf, as we face the coming year, and as we reflect on our own deficiencies and failures, we must first pray for the ability to cultivate the presence that we need to repair the relationships or restore the direction in our lives.
Yet I also think there is another component to our declaration of הנני. Ours may not be the pure הנני of the greats who came before us. It may not even be the hopeful הנני of those who are faithfully working to restore their presence in life. Because there is also the radical, broken הנני that we all carry within us - the recognition of “Here I am” and “This is who I am” that acknowledges and even embraces the faults and cracks within each of us. This הנני knows that we may not be an Avraham; we may not even be the best version we had hoped for our own selves. But we are here - and though we may be wholly inadequate for the task, we can still rise up, together, to offer the best of what we have on behalf of ourselves and our community:
“I have come to stand and to plead before You in behalf of Your people, Yisrael, who have appointed me their messenger; even though I am not worthy or qualified for the task.”
Perhaps this הנני - the one that recognizes our capacity to show up even when we feel unworthy and incapable of the responsibilities before us - is the one that is best reflected in the words “אהיה אשר אהיה - I am what I am” that the Chazzan utters in this prayer. And perhaps that is the point: perhaps accepting and acknowledging our faults while showing up anyways is enough to ensure that our tefillot will be heard.
| 
