הַמֶּֽלֶךְ The King. In a brilliant stroke, without changing a word of the usual Shabbat and festival prayers at this point, the overarching theme of Rosh HaShana – God’s kingship – is signaled by the emphasis placed on this one word, HaMelekh, “the King,” often by the main shaliaḥ tzibbur taking over at this point, sometimes singing the word as he ascends the bima, and by the music itself which begins softly in a minor key and rises to a triumphant major. This practice dates back to Rabbi Meir of Rothenburg in the thirteenth century.

וּבְמַקְהֲלוֹת And in the assemblies. The list of nine words for praise corresponds to the nine additional psalms we say on Sabbaths and festivals. The word “assemblies” refers to the large congregations present in synagogues on holy days, reminding us of the Temple, full at such times.

יִשְׁתַּבַּח May Your name be praised forever. The concluding blessing over the Verses of Praise which, like the introductory blessing, is said standing. The fifteen terms of glorification equal the number of psalms in the Verses of Praise on Sabbaths and festivals, as well as the number of “Songs of Ascents.”

שִׁיר הַמַּעֲלוֹת *Psalm 130.*Many congregations have the custom to say this psalm, verse by verse, at this point. The connection with the Days of Awe is obvious: this is one of the supreme penitential psalms, known outside Judaism by the Latin translation, De Profundis, “from the depths.” In Israel in early times it was this prayer, rather than Kol Nidrei, with which the evening service of Yom Kippur began. In one of his sermons, Rabbi Joseph Soloveitchik spoke about a Jewish doctor, an atheist, who wrote about his experiences in a concentration camp in Latvia. The labor was backbreaking, the conditions unbearable. Few survived. Among the prisoners was a group of yeshiva students together with their teacher, followers of the Musar school of Novardok. Each night, returning to the barracks the rabbi and his students would sit on the ground and recite Psalm 130, *From the depths I have called to You,*Lord. The doctor wrote that he would have given his life to have the faith to recite psalms under such circumstances (Derashot HaRav, pp. 120–21).

מִמַּעֲמַקִּים From the depths: the Psalmist, in the midst of despair, compares himself to a drowning man crying out for rescue from the depths of the sea. כִּי־עִמְּךָ הַסְּלִיחָה, לְמַֽעַן תִּוָּרֵאBut with You there is forgiveness, that You may be held in awe. Who inspires deeper fear: One who rejects us, or One who refuses to reject us? One who rejects us makes no more demands on us. We go our separate ways. But One who refuses to reject us, never losing faith in us, and refusing to let go – that is the One we fear, not because we fear Him, but because ultimately we fear ourselves. We fear greatness. We fear the effort it demands. There are times we would rather be left alone. That is one of the sources of disbelief. It is easy to live in a universe that makes no demands on us. God’s forgiveness makes demands on us, for God believes in us more than we believe in ourselves. מִשֹּׁמְרִים לַבֹּֽקֶרMore than watchmen wait for the morning. More than watchmen wait for the first light of dawn, so I wait for the light of God’s forgiveness in the dark night of the soul.

HALF KADDISH Rabbi Levi Yitzḥak of Berditchev, the Hasidic master, was known for his daring prayers on behalf of the Jewish people. One Rosh HaShana morning he uttered the following prayer before Kaddish: Good morning, Master of the Universe. I, Levi Yitzḥak son of Sarah from Berditchev, approach You with a grievance on behalf of Your people, Israel. What do You have against Israel? Why have You imposed Yourself on Israel? In everything it is, “Command the children of Israel,” “Speak to the children of Israel.” Merciful Father, there are many nations in the world: Persians, Babylonians, Romans. What do the Russians say? Their ruler is the Czar. What do the Germans say? Their ruler is the Kaiser. What do the English say? Their ruler is the king. But I, Levi Yitzḥak son of Sarah from Berditchev, say: You are HaMelekh yoshev al kiseh ram venisa, “The King who sits on a throne, high and lofty,” and I will not leave this place until there is an end to the Exile. Yitgadal veyitkadash shemeh raba, “Magnified and sanctified may His great name be…”