Every year, as the shofar sounds across our sanctuary, we are stand together, facing the sovereignty of the Divine. On Rosh HaShannah, we announce – Malchuyot, declaring God as Sovereign of the universe.

Yet, for many sitting in the pews, the concept of “sovereignty” feels distant, archaic, or uncomfortably authoritarian. We live in a modern democracy, fiercely protective of our personal freedom. Why, then, do our ancient sages place the crowning of the Divine at the absolute centre of the New Year?

The answer, I believe, is to crown the Divine is not to surrender our freedom, but to reclaim our agency.

To understand this, we need to ask an honest question of ourselves: Who or what is actually ruling our lives?

If we are truthful, most of us are governed by subtle masters we never consciously chose. We are ruled by the relentless ping of phone notifications, the anxiety of keeping up appearances, the demands of over scheduled calendars, or old grudges that dictate our emotional responses. We live under the tyranny of the immediate, driven by fear, social expectations, or fleeting impulse. We believe we are free simply because we make choices, but when those choices are dictated by external pressures or unconscious habits, our freedom is an illusion.

The Torah recognised this human tendency long before the invention of smartphones or social media. In the Book of Exodus, when God speaks to the Israelites after the Exodus, the language of allegiance is explicit: “For to Me the Children of Israel are servants; they are My servants whom I brought forth out of the land of Egypt” (Leviticus 25:55).

At first, swapping servitude to Pharaoh for servitude to the Divine might sound like trading one master for another. But the Talmudic Sage Rabbi Joshua ben Levi, offered a brilliant way of understanding this concept. Commenting on the phrase in Exodus 32:16 regarding the Tablets of the Law – “engraved upon the tablets” (Charut Al Ha-Luchot), he teaches in Pirkei Avot (6:2): “Do not read Charut [engraved], but Cherut [freedom]. For you have no free person except one who occupies themselves with the study of Torah.”

True liberty is not the absence of commitment. It is the freedom to choose what commands us. When we align ourselves with sacred values justice, compassion, truth, and holy community we dethrone the petty tyrants that daily hijack our peace of mind.

This principle echoes powerfully in modern thought as well. The psychologist Erich Fromm, in his seminal work ‘Escape from Freedom’, observed that modern humans often flee from genuine autonomy because real responsibility is daunting. We surrender our personal authority to culture, public opinion, or routine just to feel secure. Fromm noted that true human growth requires “spontaneous activity,” where an individual acts out of an authentic internal core rather than external coercion.

Similarly, Bob Dylan captured this universal truth the line: “It may be the devil or it may be the Lord, but you are gonna have to serve somebody.” The human heart is never entirely vacant; a throne is always occupied. The work of Rosh HaShannah is deciding who sits upon it.

When we recite the Malchuyot prayers, we are taking part in an act of spiritual dethronement and re-enthronement. We step back from the frantic current of daily life and intentionally choose our Sovereign. We declare that our ultimate loyalty belongs not to our anxieties, our politics, or our material pursuits, but to the source of life, love, and righteousness.

Reclaiming your personal agency this Rosh HaShannah means taking back the steering wheel of your spiritual life. It means waking up each morning and deciding that your time, your words, and your energy will be directed by purpose rather than reactivity.

When you choose to forgive someone, not because it’s easy, but because holiness demands reconciliation, you are exercising divine sovereignty.

When you set aside the screen to be fully present with a friend or spouse, you are dethroning distraction.

As we look toward the year ahead at Temple Shalom, let us enter the sanctuary not as passive observers watching an ancient ritual unfold, but as conscious creators of our own lives.

May the blast of the shofar shake loose whatever false masters have taken hold of us, and may we merit a new year defined by true freedom, sacred purpose, and deep inner peace.

Shannah Tovah