(א) וַיְהִי֩ אִ֨ישׁ אֶחָ֜ד מִן־הָרָמָתַ֛יִם צוֹפִ֖ים מֵהַ֣ר אֶפְרָ֑יִם וּשְׁמ֡וֹ אֶ֠לְקָנָ֠ה בֶּן־יְרֹחָ֧ם בֶּן־אֱלִיה֛וּא בֶּן־תֹּ֥חוּ בֶן־צ֖וּף אֶפְרָתִֽי׃ (ב) וְלוֹ֙ שְׁתֵּ֣י נָשִׁ֔ים שֵׁ֤ם אַחַת֙ חַנָּ֔ה וְשֵׁ֥ם הַשֵּׁנִ֖ית פְּנִנָּ֑ה וַיְהִ֤י לִפְנִנָּה֙ יְלָדִ֔ים וּלְחַנָּ֖ה אֵ֥ין יְלָדִֽים׃ (ג) וְעָלָה֩ הָאִ֨ישׁ הַה֤וּא מֵֽעִירוֹ֙ מִיָּמִ֣ים ׀ יָמִ֔ימָה לְהִֽשְׁתַּחֲוֺ֧ת וְלִזְבֹּ֛חַ לַיהֹוָ֥ה צְבָא֖וֹת בְּשִׁלֹ֑ה וְשָׁ֞ם שְׁנֵ֣י בְנֵֽי־עֵלִ֗י חׇפְנִי֙ וּפִ֣נְחָ֔ס כֹּהֲנִ֖ים לַיהֹוָֽה׃ (ד) וַיְהִ֣י הַיּ֔וֹם וַיִּזְבַּ֖ח אֶלְקָנָ֑ה וְנָתַ֞ן לִפְנִנָּ֣ה אִשְׁתּ֗וֹ וּֽלְכׇל־בָּנֶ֛יהָ וּבְנוֹתֶ֖יהָ מָנֽוֹת׃ (ה) וּלְחַנָּ֕ה יִתֵּ֛ן מָנָ֥ה אַחַ֖ת אַפָּ֑יִם כִּ֤י אֶת־חַנָּה֙ אָהֵ֔ב וַיהֹוָ֖ה סָגַ֥ר רַחְמָֽהּ׃ (ו) וְכִעֲסַ֤תָּה צָרָתָהּ֙ גַּם־כַּ֔עַס בַּעֲב֖וּר הַרְּעִמָ֑הּ כִּֽי־סָגַ֥ר יְהֹוָ֖ה בְּעַ֥ד רַחְמָֽהּ׃ (ז) וְכֵ֨ן יַעֲשֶׂ֜ה שָׁנָ֣ה בְשָׁנָ֗ה מִדֵּ֤י עֲלֹתָהּ֙ בְּבֵ֣ית יְהֹוָ֔ה כֵּ֖ן תַּכְעִסֶ֑נָּה וַתִּבְכֶּ֖ה וְלֹ֥א תֹאכַֽל׃ (ח) וַיֹּ֨אמֶר לָ֜הּ אֶלְקָנָ֣ה אִישָׁ֗הּ חַנָּה֙ לָ֣מֶה תִבְכִּ֗י וְלָ֙מֶה֙ לֹ֣א תֹֽאכְלִ֔י וְלָ֖מֶה יֵרַ֣ע לְבָבֵ֑ךְ הֲל֤וֹא אָֽנֹכִי֙ ט֣וֹב לָ֔ךְ מֵעֲשָׂרָ֖ה בָּנִֽים׃
(1) There was a man from Ramathaim of the Zuphites, in the hill country of Ephraim, whose name was Elkanah son of Jeroham son of Elihu son of Tohu son of Zuph, an Ephraimite. (2) He had two wives, one named Hannah and the other Peninnah; Peninnah had children, but Hannah was childless. (3) This man used to go up from his town every year to worship and to offer sacrifice to the LORD of Hosts at Shiloh.—Hophni and Phinehas, the two sons of Eli, were priests of the LORD there. (4) One such day, Elkanah offered a sacrifice. He used to give portions to his wife Peninnah and to all her sons and daughters; (5) but to Hannah he would give one portion only—though Hannah was his favorite—for the LORD had closed her womb. (6) Moreover, her rival, to make her miserable, would taunt her that the LORD had closed her womb. (7) This happened year after year: Every time she went up to the House of the LORD, the other would taunt her, so that she wept and would not eat. (8) Her husband Elkanah said to her, “Hannah, why are you crying and why aren’t you eating? Why are you so sad? Am I not more devoted to you than ten sons?” (9) After they had eaten and drunk at Shiloh, Hannah rose.—The priest Eli was sitting on the seat near the doorpost of the temple of the LORD.—
The Haftarah for Rosh HaShanah imagines this very situation. Hannah, the beloved wife of Elkanah is stuck, unable to conceive a child. A nice religious family, they would—year after year—go to shul to offer their sacrifices. And year after year, Elkanah would divide the sacrifices between his two wife, giving a double portion to his beloved Hannah. And, year after year, this small act—of the best intentions—only serve as salt in Hannah’s wounds, a constant reminder that she is still childless. Year after year, those offerings came to represent not their love, but the endless negative tests, the months and months of tears and anger and frustration.
(You May Ask Yourself....How Did I Get Here; Rosh HaShanah 5773)
(9) After they had eaten and drunk at Shiloh, Hannah rose.—The priest Eli was sitting on the seat near the doorpost of the temple of the LORD.— (10) In her wretchedness, she prayed to the LORD, weeping all the while. (11) And she made this vow: “O LORD of Hosts, if You will look upon the suffering of Your maidservant and will remember me and not forget Your maidservant, and if You will grant Your maidservant a male child, I will dedicate him to the LORD for all the days of his life; and no razor shall ever touch his head.” (12) As she kept on praying before the LORD, Eli watched her mouth. (13) Now Hannah was praying in her heart; only her lips moved, but her voice could not be heard. So Eli thought she was drunk. (14) Eli said to her, “How long will you make a drunken spectacle of yourself? Sober up!” (15) And Hannah replied, “Oh no, my lord! I am a very unhappy woman. I have drunk no wine or other strong drink, but I have been pouring out my heart to the LORD.
After they had eaten and drunk…Hannah rose…in her wretchedness, she prayed to Adonai, weeping all the while.[1]
What changed? To borrow from another Jewish holiday—what made this night different from all other nights? Why this year, after years of routine, does Hannah get up from her meal and turn to God in despair? Rabbi Lord Jonathan Sacks, the former Chief Rabbi of the United Kingdom, offers a powerful answer. Rabbi Sacks says that on that day, Elkana said he was done, not with the relationship, but done trying. Done changing. On that day, he resigned to their fate, leaving her all alone[2]. In that moment, he seems to suggest, she had a choice—she could stay, stuck in an endless cycle, or she could start to think about how to get out. And so—she prayed.
(You May Ask Yourself....How Did I Get Here; Rosh HaShanah 5773)
הַיּוֹם הֲרַת עוֹלָם.
On this day, the world came into being;
Rabbi Adrienne Rubin
“…she has no comforter…” (Lamentations 1:2) R’ Levi said: every place where it says ‘has no,’ she has. “And Sarai was barren; she had no child.” (Genesis 11:30) And she did have, as it says “And the Lord remembered Sarah…” (Genesis 21:1) Similarly, “…but Hannah had no children.” (Samuel I 1:2) And she did have, as it says “For the Lord remembered Hannah…” (Samuel I 2:21) Similarly, “…that is Zion whom no one seeks out.” (Jeremiah 30:17) And she did have, as it says “And a redeemer shall come to Zion…” (Isaiah 59:20) And so too you say that she has no comforter - she has, as it says “I, yea I am He Who consoles you…” (Isaiah 51:12)
And so on Rosh Hashana we come to shul to hear the sobbing voice of the shofar, crying out for us – crying like Hannah, like Sarah, like Hagar, as we join with our community, so that we can raise up our voice in a roar of sorrow and pain for the things that were not right this year, that we hope will change in the future, a great sobbing cry that lifts the hairs on our necks and rises up to God, so that our one voice can rouse the rachamim, the mercy of God, that God’s rechem, womb, will open for us, and will give birth to something new, a year of forgiveness, and hope and reconciliation.
Rabbi Alana Suskin
We cannot promise You our children,
but we can raise them with compassion
for all of Your creation.
Our children cannot serve in Your Temple,
but we can teach them to see
Your world as a Holy Place.
Shema Koleinu, hear our voices, God,
God of Hannah, Sarah, Rachel, and Rebecca,
so that our children and our children’s children
may hear our words one day:
words of compassion, words of praise,
words of love.
Heather Paul