One of the most remarkable aspects of the High Holy Day liturgy is the degree to which the Cantor shares openly his trepidations concerning, and his hopes for, his davening. One example is the exquisite Hineni prayer, where the Cantor moves slowly, with due reverence, toward the bimah where he will take upon himself the awesome responsibility of representing us all.
The short but beautiful Ochila l’kel is another. “I come before the Lord to entreat Him, I plead for the gift of expression. Preparing the heart is a human task; but the power of expression is a gift from G-d.”
We can compare this to a singer at a performance. Surely they will know the tunes and the words, and almost without fail they will remain on key. But a professional singer will be the first to tell you there are good nights and bad nights. If the enthusiasm and energy are there, it will be a good night. So too with the Cantor.
But this is a comparison that shouldn’t be taken too far. It’s one thing to show fidelity to a song. It’s something else entirely to know that the hopes and prayers, and to some extent, the future, of your congregation are being channeled through you to the Master of the Universe. That’s the sacred burden the Cantor bears. Leading the congregation in prayer is about more than “getting your game on.” It’s about getting your heart right. As the Cantor sings this beautiful prayer, we should be opening our hearts to him so that our prayers can be added to his.