At least once a year, someone asks me why I don’t wear a big giant kippah or start Hineni from the back of the shul, as Cantor Klein used to do. The following is an edited response to the latter, from one of my colleagues. They are not my words, but they do represent my feelings.

Perhaps the most difficult prayer for me to chant at the High Holidays is the “Hineni” prayer, which comes just prior to the musaf service. It is a highly personal prayer, one that expresses the humility, fear and honesty of the hazzan chanting it. This personal prayer is said publicly, however, and has, for a long time, been a highpoint in the service for those in attendance.

Traditionally, the shacharit and Torah services were always led by skilled congregants and lay-leaders. It was not until the musaf service, which is immediately preceded by “Hineni,” that the hazzan began his portion of the High Holiday service. The hazzan would start from a seat in the congregation or the back of the sanctuary reciting, ever so softly, the opening words of “Hineni.” He would slowly approach the bima. The congregation was silent, completely mesmerized by this display of utter hesitation and humility. By the end of the prayer, the hazzan had reached the bima, now almost in tears after pouring out his soul to God in front of those who sent him as their messenger. It must have been an awesome and moving moment for all.

Since Temple times, there is no longer a High Priest, so the shaliach tzibbur was chosen from the “common folk.” This person’s humility and intention of the heart was so genuine as to make up for any deficiencies in knowledge or qualification. Of course, the chosen shaliach tzibbur was quite hesitant to undertake such a daunting task, and would therefore slowly proceed to the front of the gathered mass, quietly reciting the “Hineni” prayer as he approached the steps that once led to the great Temple. This literal “coming forth from the masses” has become a tradition practiced ever since in many synagogues around the world.

I, too, carried on this tradition when I first began leading High Holiday services as a cantor. I liked the idea of approaching the bima with hesitation from the back of the sanctuary, as I felt every bit as unqualified as the “Hineni” prayer indicated. So I made my way to the back just before the Rabbi began his sermon. At its conclusion, I was to begin the “Hineni” as I made my way to the front. But it didn’t happen quite as I had envisioned.

As soon as the sermon was over, hoards of people got up from their seats and left the sanctuary. It was like watching the Exodus from Egypt. Not only were they leaving, but they were also stopping to greet those they passed as they made their way to the back, myself included. Even after most of the noise had died down and I began my slow trek to the bima, I found myself dodging those running out at the last minute. Trying to concentrate on the mood and seriousness of the moment was impossible for me.

Today, I choose not to approach the bima from the back of the sanctuary during “Hineni.” Unlike hazzanim of old, I do not begin leading the service at musaf, but rather at the Torah service, so I am already on the bima. Secondly, I find it impossible to capture the appropriate mood of humility of the prayer while making such a grand entrance. I prefer to chant this most personal prayer from the solitude and holiness that the bima represents. In this way, I can concentrate on the magnitude of the task at hand – representing the community in as true a way as possible.

Ilana, Leore, Doron and Daniel join me in wishing all of you a happy and healthy new year. May we all approach our prayers with the sacredness they deserve and all be inscribed in the Book of Life.