Rosh Hashanah: What It Really Means to Crown Hashem King

When we talk about crowning Hashem as King on Rosh Hashanah, it can sound like a symbolic ritual or beautiful words recited from a prayer book. But at its core, it is an inner movement of the heart: a willingness to stop placing ourselves at the center, to recognize Hashem as the ultimate authority in our lives, and to build a close relationship with Him.

It is a profound shift in the way we see ourselves and the world, one that allows us to loosen our grip on control and say wholeheartedly: “Father, I lean on You and trust You.”

Sometimes our ego takes up so much space that even when we say, “Hashem helps me,” our hearts are still trying to hold the reins alone. 

Rosh Hashanah invites us to move away from our private sense of self and return to the Source. When a person internalizes that every bit of strength, wisdom, and ability they possess is only a channel, they no longer feel that everything depends entirely on them. 

Giving up control is not weakness. It is the freedom of knowing that Someone guides the world with love, and of feeling in every fiber of your being that “every creature will know that You created it.”

The real crowning often takes place precisely in the ordinary moments when life does not go according to plan: when a child spills soup on the clean carpet, when a spouse says something painful, or when a carefully prepared plan falls apart at the last minute and does not happen the way I wanted it to. In those moments, our natural response may be anger, hurt, anxiety, or an attempt to fight the circumstances or the people who caused us pain.

So That You May Crown Me King Over You

At every moment, there is abundance waiting to come down to us. Hashem wants to do good for us, and He established a principle in creation: heavenly abundance descends from above when there is an awakening from below, on the human side. Our role is to prepare ourselves to receive that abundance by becoming a vessel shaped by humility and surrender rather than ego and control.

Another role we have been given is to awaken our connection to the ultimate Giver, the Creator, through prayer and by crying out to Him from a place of helplessness and complete dependence. Turning to Hashem opens the channels of abundance and brings kindness into the world as part of the process of crowning Him King.

Living With Humility: Nothing I Have Is Truly Mine

Consider a mother in Israel who has been struggling for a long time with one of her children: her 16-year-old son, Ephraim, who refuses to get up in the morning or go to school. He sleeps until noon, absorbed in his own world, while she stands helpless before this frustrating reality.

She had already tried everything. She attended parenting workshops, enrolled in expensive courses on compassionate communication, read books about adolescence, and listened to countless insightful lectures about reaching a child’s heart. She also tried spiritual practices for 40 days, spent hours reading Tehillim, traveled to the Kotel, and wept with the heartfelt prayers of a Jewish mother.

One morning, armed with all the knowledge she had gathered, she stood in the kitchen planning the perfect approach. She would enter gently, offer him a cup of hot cocoa, show him unconditional acceptance, smile at him, and tell him she loved him exactly as he was.

She walked toward his room, but the moment she opened the door, she heard his bitter voice: “Enough, you’re disturbing my sleep. Stop nagging me already!”

Her carefully planned script vanished instantly, replaced once again by the burning hurt of his disrespect, the hours being wasted, and her fear for his future. What will become of him?

A terrible rage threatened to overwhelm her aching heart. All the beautiful words from the parenting lectures evaporated, and in their place, a harsh, angry voice burst out: “How long is this going to go on?! You’re ruining your life! Get up already!”

The door slammed, and she remained outside, exhausted and helpless, drowning in anger, control, anxiety, and despair. She felt trapped in a deep inner exile. She knew exactly how she was supposed to behave, but her heart felt like stone. For weeks and months, she felt lost. She knew what to do, but could not put it into practice. Something inside her refused to absorb what she already understood intellectually.

Several more frustrating months passed before she encountered profound classes that spoke directly to her broken heart. Every morning, while Ephraim was still in bed, the words echoed inside her: “There is only Hashem. Cry out to Him from your nothingness.”

Slowly, she stopped trying to be the perfect parent. She stopped trying to solve everything through her own strength and stopped trying to control and fix every situation. She felt small and lost, and began building a close relationship with Hashem.

Her mouth opened simply, without lofty words, and a cry rose from the depths of her heart: “Hashem, I can’t do this. This child is Yours, and this hardened heart of mine is meant for You. I have no strength of my own. Just be here with me. I can’t do this anymore. Only You can.”

When Control Gives Way to Trust

Slowly, she began to feel a quiet inner presence. She felt the Creator of the world revealing Himself within her heart. Her terrible anxiety began to make room for simple compassion.

She no longer saw Ephraim as her parenting failure or as a rebellious teenager, but as a searching soul, stuck in his own exile and hiding beneath the blanket. The anger melted away. The tenderness she had tried so hard to force out of herself now began to flow naturally, like a Divine gift.

One morning, she walked into his room, not to educate him, scold him, rescue him, or even calm her own fears. She opened the door quietly. The room was dark and stuffy, but she did not open the blinds. She simply walked over to the bed, sat on the edge, and placed a gentle, loving hand on his shoulder.

Ephraim immediately tensed, expecting shouting, lectures, and the familiar questions. But she said nothing. She simply sat beside him in the dark room, loving him without demanding that he change. The light within her passed through her hand to him.

Ephraim moved the blanket away from his face and looked at her suspiciously, but this time he met eyes free of anger, eyes that saw his soul.

“Mom?” he whispered.

Suddenly, Ephraim sounded so small and broken to her, like a lost child waiting for someone to find him in the dark.

“I’m here, Efi,” she answered with a gentleness that did not feel like her own, but came from the light that had entered between them. “I’m simply here.”

Taking the Crown Off Our Own Heads

This mother’s story is, in many ways, the story of all of us. We try everything. We make an effort, read, learn, travel, work hard, and sometimes still find ourselves standing helplessly in front of a wall. Not because our efforts are wrong, but because we may have forgotten who is really running the world.

Hashem enters precisely where a person stops believing that everything depends on what they “understand” or “can do” and agrees instead to become a vessel for Hashem’s light.

When we ask, “Reign over us, Hashem, You alone,” the first step is to take the crown off our own heads. To let go, to trust, and to recognize that everything is ultimately in His hands and that salvation comes through His power.

“And Hashem will be King over all the earth; on that day, Hashem will be One and His Name One.”

Meital Madi is a mindset coach, parenting instructor, and couples counselor in Hidabroot’s Choshen department.