by
Michael Chusid
It is customary to listen to shofar during Elul, the month before Rosh Hashanah, as a way to attune ourselves to its sacred call. While we do not blow shofar on Shabbat, remembering its call is also a powerful exercise.
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1. In the beginning…God
said…(Genesis 1:1-3)
The world was not created by thought alone, but by action. The action of speaking created a vibration, a ripple in the cosmos, that moves outward from its source and exchanges energy with everything it contacts.
When we blow shofar, we are acting in God's image, creating change in the world through sound.
In the physical world, sound vibrations transfer mechanical energy and generate minute amounts of heat due to molecular friction. In the physical world, the energy of shofar, like any other sound, entropies, dissipating until its impact is lost and forgotten.
In the higher worlds, however, the vibrations of shofar becomes amplified when they are heard and act as a stimulus for teshuvah, the process of making amends for our sins (missing the mark) and returning to a life more in alignment with divine purpose.
Hearing is more than the passive registration of acoustic energy by our auditory nerve; to hear shofar requires us to be spiritually present. Then, we must become receptive so that the vibrations enter our minds, hearts and souls and move us towards taking the actions that produce teshuvah.
Teshuvah is not created by thoughts alone; action is required. For sins between us and God, we must ADMIT our error, FEEL regret and RESOLVE to not repeat the sins. For sins between us and another person, we must also ASK forgiveness and MAKE restitutions.
If we do not actively hear shofar in a way that prompts teshuvah, then the vibrations merely pass through us, doing little else than imperceptibly raising our body temperatures.
Years ago, in architecture school, an engineering professor gave me the assignment to calculate how much sound energy was required to heat a cup of tea. During Elul, the month proceeding Rosh Hashanah, we can do better than that. We can use the energy of shofar to move us to brew an entire pot of tea, and then to sit down and share a cup with our family, neighbors and associates to settle old scores, heal festering wounds, ask for forgiveness for our offenses, and forgive those against whom we may hold grudges.
When we do this, we are truly acting in the image of God, moving against the flow of entropy to create a new world. Amen.
As you hear shofar today, visualize sitting down with a cup of tea with your worthy opponents. What would you like to say and hear that may lead to healing?
2. The
Lord G-d formed man… He blew into his nostrils the breath of life…
(Genesis 2:7)
This is the breath we return when we blow shofar.
The connection between the breath and our knowledge of God is so deep that it is rooted in our languages. In English, "respiration" and "spiritual" share the same root. In Hebrew, "neshamah" (soul) and "nesh?mah" (breath) share the same root, while "ruach" can mean either "wind" or "spirit".
One could reasonably assume that a powerful exhalation is the breath required to produce a strong shofar blast. As a shofar blower, however, I have found that the most important breath is my inhalation before blowing shofar.
On the practical level, filling my chest with air provides the substance that will later be channeled into the shofar. Plus, it oxygenates my blood so I do not faint during a prolonged tekiah gedolah.
But on a deeper level, fills us with life. In that first breath, Adam had to inhale to receive the breath God blow into his nostrils. In the same way, inhaling continues to fill us with the spirit of life.
We are reborn with every inhalation. Like a newborn baby, we cry. Our cry is the voice of shofar announcing the birth of a New Year, a new world. Amen.
As you hear shofar today, feel the spirit flowing through your body with each breath.
3. And the Lord said to Cain,
"Why are you distressed,
And why is your face fallen?
Surely, if you do right,
There is uplift.
But if you do not do right
Sin couches at the door;
Its urge is toward you,
Yet you can be its master." (Genesis 4:6-7)
The voice of shofar blares out of the story of Cain, introducing fundamental themes that resonate throughout our liturgy on the Days of Awe.
The story of Cain
is not usually associated with shofar and the High Holy Days. But consider
the evidence in Genesis Chapter Four:
* The sacrifices offered by Cain and Abel are the first instance of WORSHIP
in Torah.
* Abel's slaying is the first mention of SIN in Torah. (Adam's and Eve's
fall is not considered sin because they had innocence of right and wrong.)
* God's exhortation to Cain, above, is the first place in Torah that lays
out the basic tenets of TESHUVAH, an individual's opportunity to chose
to do right.
* When Cain prayed, "My punishment is too great to bear!", we
have the first instance in Torah where God, by placing a mark of protection
on Cain, shows MERCY.
Further:
* Abel was a keeper of sheep, and his offering was accepted while Cain's
offering from the fruit of the soil was not. This is the first mention
of sheep in Torah and foreshadows the myriad instances in which sheep
are woven into the historical and spiritual identity of the Jewish people:
the binding of Isaac, Jacob covering his arm with sheepskin to receive
his father's blessing, the blood of the lamb that marked our doors on
the night of the Passover, the blaring of the ram's horn at Sinai, et
cetera.
* From Cain descended Jubal, the father of all musicians. That his name
means "ram" signals the significance of the ram's horn.
* We are told that both Cain and Abel were born on Rosh Hashanah.
* Legend has it that the mark God placed on Cain was a horn.
When I blow shofar on Rosh Hashanah, I viscerally experience God's declaration, "Hark, your brother's blood cries out to me from the ground." While the shofar's sound is produced by buzzing my lips, I feel it as a vibration rising out of the earth, coursing through my body, and rushing out the shofar to create a bridge between heaven and earth.
We are the children of Cain, "a restless wanderer on earth." Yet in the sound of shofar, we remember that we can be masters of the evil inclination. There is sin, but there is also teshuvah and mercy. There is hope. Amen.
As you hear shofar today, ask for strength and courage to master your urge to sin.
4. Let us, then, go down and confound their speech
there, so that they shall not understand one another's speech. (Genesis
11:7)
The shofar is a tool for amplifying and modulating sound. Perhaps anthropologists can tell us which came first, spoken language or the use of tools; spoken prayer or horn blowing. I do not know.
However, I do know that before either, we did quite well communicating basic emotions using non-verbal sounds and body language. Like many other animals, we expressed ourselves with grunts and growls. Thumping our chest and puffing our chests. Flapping our extremities and shaking heads. And roaring and howling - just as shofar still does.
Hearing shofar enables us to return to a time before Babel when we all shared a common language. Now, as then, we understand clearly the raw emotions and instinctual behaviors aroused by shofar: fear, awe, love, courage, bewilderment, passion, commitment, release, joy, and…
There is no need to process the voice of shofar through the higher speech centers of our minds, only to hear it.
The Rosh Hashanah and Yom Kippur liturgies are floods of words. Even if we know Hebrew, Aramaic, and the other languages in which they are spoken, how many of us really understand them? Do the words have the same meaning to me as they do to you? Can they possibly have the same meaning now as when first spoken on the other side of the world and the millennia?
Halfway through services, are we even capable of hearing more words? Or have they become burnt hard like bricks and stacked one on top of the other in an attempt to build a tower of words with its top in the sky?
But then shofar sounds. The tower of words tumble, and we return, if only for an instant, to a secret primal language we all understand. We look at each other and know that nothing we propose to do will be out of our reach.
Stripped of our words and reduced to naked souls, we stand trembling together. Amen.
As you hear shofar today, quiet the flood of words in your mind and simply hear sound.
5. …but where is the sheep for the burnt offering?
(Genesis 22:7)
The wild sheep of the ancient world was an important source of protein, fat and hide. But it was also a terrifying animal that was strong, fast, and crowned with powerful horns that readily outmatched the primitive weapons of our ancestors. The creature was literally the source of life and death to the Paleolithic hunter, and inspired magical attempts to influence its behavior. Rabbi Jonathan Omer-Man has said that the early humans who attributed divine qualities to the forces of nature were the "spiritual geniuses" of their age. The ram was a god to the ancient Semites that wandered between the Tigris and Nile Rivers.
Later, when horned animals were domesticated, it no longer made sense to see them as gods beyond human control. Yet the memory of an all powerful Ram still existed, a god that still demanded death to be propitiated. By then, our agriculture had advanced enough to afford the sacrifice of an animal now and then, especially since our flocks yielded more males than were needed for breeding.
This was the world in which Isaac was reared. His father's God was no longer in the shape of a beast, but still demanded blood, smoke, and the crackle of sizzling fat.
Still later, we were taken as slaves into Babylon, and we no longer had the fat of the land to burn. Worship turned from Temple-based sacrifice, to the offering of all we had left to give - our voices. Yet the memory of an all powerful Ram still existed. And then, as today, we mark the vernal New Year with a charred bone of a sheep, and the autumnal New Year with the voice of sheep, the shofar.
There is a story about the Hasidic master who, on the New Year, would go to a certain spot in the woods, and recite a particular blessing, and it was enough. Later, his disciples no longer knew the certain spot in the woods, but would welcome the New Year with a particular blessing, and it was enough. Today, we no longer know the certain spot in the woods or the particular blessing. But we tell the story, and it is enough.
When we now blow shofar to welcome the New Year, it tells the story of nearly six thousand years of spiritual growth. And it is enough. Amen.
As you hear shofar today, let the modern self and your primitive self embrace.
6. Go to the flock and fetch
me two choice kids, and I will make of them a dish for your father, such
as he likes…and she covered his hands and the hairless parts of his
neck with skins of the kids. (Genesis 27:33)
Our sages tell us that, when we hear shofar, the ram's horn should remind us to meditate on the faith of Abraham and how he was tested. The Akedah, the binding of Isaac, is a story of infinite significance, but sometimes I question why it was singled out to be read every year on Rosh Hashanah. The entire Torah is sacred, after all, so what would it be like if we read a different story on the New Year?
If we read about the Esau and Jacob, for instance; on what would we then meditate when we heard the ram's horn?
Meditation often produces surprising leaps of creative association, and our thoughts may turn to Chad Gadya, the allegorical Passover song about the "one kid my father bought for two zuzim." Except that in this story, there are two kids - Esau and Jacob - who bought one zuz - their father's inheritance.
These two kids fought each other from the womb like rams in rutting season. Moreover, they are both symbolically offered as a sacrifice when Rachel makes a meal for Isaac with "two choice kids" from the flock. When the father eats the sacrifice, he gives a blessing that is along the lines of what the patriarchs hoped to receive when they offered a kid to The Father. During the Days of Awe, we too pray for a blessing from Father.
The Pesach song can be understood as a parable about how powerful regimes fall, one after another, just like the estates of Esau and Jacob fall one to the other. Was the mix-up in Jacob's blessing just the result of machinations by a mother playing favorites, or is the unseen hand of God working behind the scenes. The answer is implied in our question during the High Holy Days, "Who shall be humbled, and who exalted?"
The competition between the sons of Isaac turns to hostility and then to threats of death. The family is torn apart, and the brothers do not see each other for 20 years. Eventually, Jacob decides to seek a reconciliation with his brother. While Jacob is returning to his homeland, a divine messenger renames him Israel. From this, we learn the transformational potential of teshuvah, a Hebrew word that means "to return".
Israel makes amends to his brother by gifting him with flocks and bowing to the ground to ask forgiveness, and is accepted in love by his brother. What started as an dreamy meditation now comes into focus as a tale about blessings, standing in judgment before God, and teshuvah, the process of healing rifts and returning to wholeness.
Then came the Holy One, blessed is He. Chad gadya, chad gadya. Amen.
As you hear shofar today meditate on the unseen hand shaping your destiny. Where is there estrangement in your life? To where or what must you return?
7. When Joseph came up to
his brothers, they…cast him into a pit. (Genesis 37:23-24)
The Talmud (Rosh Hashanah 27b) says, "If one blows a shofar into a pit… the law is as follows: If he heard the sound of shofar without an accompanying echo, he has fulfilled his obligation. But if he heard the sound of shofar's echo, he has not fulfilled his obligation."
For most of us, the image of blowing shofar into a pit seems so preposterous, that we may not immediately grasp why the sages considered it. But time and again, it has been necessary for Jews to perform the mitzvah of shofar clandestinely to circumvent oppression.
What did Joseph do at the bottom of the pit? Perhaps he napped and had another prophetic dream. Or perhaps he prayed for release. For courage to face his ordeal? For compassion to forgive his brothers? Or for…
If he prayed, would his prayers have ricochet off the walls of cistern? And would his prayer echoes have become invalidated before God heard them?
Topologically, a shofar is a tube, a hollow space that acts as a megaphone to amplify vibrations. Understood this way, Joseph was at the bottom of an huge earth-based shofar. Dug vertically into the ground, the pit was on an axis passing through the planet's center and straight into the heavens. His prayers from the bottom of the pit, even whispered, would have been amplified far beyond any tekiah gedolah (big shofar blast) emanating from an ordinary ram's horn.
But there is a qualification. Joseph's prayers would only have escaped the gravity of self-pity or recrimination if his kavanah, the intention behind his prayer, was inclined towards teshuvah - making whole the worlds.
Otherwise, his words would have done little more than bounce from one wall to the other. Inside the pit, the reverberation would make his voice sound big and booming; very satisfying to hear on a superficial level, but not nearly as effective as the still small voice of the heart for communicating with the One. Amen.
As you hear shofar today, meditate on the pits in which you are confined. Are you dozing or praying? What is your kavanah?
8. I am the Lord your God…(Exodus
20:2)
A more literal translation of the Hebrew would be "I am Yod-Hay-Vav-Hay, your God…", using the four letter name of God that is beyond translation and beyond pronunciation.
Rabbi Arthur I. Waskow has written about pronouncing The Name in his Godwrestling II. What if there are no vowels to The Name, he asks, only the consonants yod, hay, and vav. Pronouncing these letters sounds like, "yyyyyyyyy-hhhhhhhh-vvvvvvvv-hhhhhhh - a rush of air that is only slightly modified by our lips and tongues.
The voice of shofar is, similarly, only a rush of air slightly modified by our lips and tongues and amplified by a conical horn. It is, perhaps, as much of The Name as we are able to hear as humans, the rest of the name is on spiritual or dimensional bandwidths to which mortals cannot attune.
While the Temple still stood, the High Priest would enter the Holy of Holies on Yom Kippur and utter The Name. Now, during the Days of Awe, we must each be our own high priest and enter the Holy of Holies that is indwelling within each of us. There, we can hear "yyyyyyyyy-hhhhhhhh-vvvvvvvv-hhhhhhh" - the Eternal Exhalation of shofar - as The Name whispered in a rush of air. Amen.
When you hear shofar today, remember standing at Sinai and hearing, for the first time, "I am yyyyyyyyy-hhhhhhhh-vvvvvvvv-hhhhhhh, your God…"
9. ..the seventh day is a
sabbath of the Lord your God. (Exodus 20:9)
This rabbinic prohibition is assurance against someone carrying a shofar or doing anything else that might be construed as work; it is a fence around Torah to protect the sanctity of the day of rest.
Even if you drive or do other "work" on Shabbat, however, you may want to refrain from shofar blowing today as a symbolic way of embracing the day of rest.
Hearing shofar is a call to make teshuvah, the making of amends for our errors. But on Shabbat, we do not have to make anything, we simply have to be.
While teshuvah is a worthy goal, pursuing it relentlessly may be counterproductive. I have heard that a historian studied the records left by the wagon trains of American settlers moving west across the great plains and mountains. I am told that he found the groups that observed the Sabbath, resting themselves and their horses one day out of seven, actually made the journey in less time, on average, than those who hitched-up their wagons every day. Amen.
As you hear shofar today, reflect on bringing you life more into shabbat.
10. Six days you shall do
your work, but on the seventh day you shall cease from labor, in order
that your ox and your ass may rest… (Exodus 23:30)
Including a day of rest for animals was one of the ethical revolutions of the Torah. In this restatement of the Fourth Commandment, animals are not just a beneficiary of the Sabbath, they are the reason for it. While the ox and ass are named in this verse, we should understand it to apply to all livestock, including sheep.
A shofar can be made from the horn of any animal whose horn has a bone core, with the exception that it can not be made from the horn of a cow or other bovine. Most often, it is made from the horn of a sheep, particularly a ram's horn.
Long before Sinai, when our ancestors learned that blowing into a horn could produce sound, they made its call a central feature of their primitive rituals. They believed that blowing the horn enabled them to magically acquire the animal's power and gain control over the forces of nature.
Our rituals have become more sophisticated today, and we do not recognize animals as avatars of the divine. If we listen, however, we can still hear the voice of the animal resonating from its horn whenever we blow shofar. The essence of the living animal that remains in the horn is what distinguishes the sound of a shofar from that of a metallic trumpet.
Today, we will rest and we will let the ram's horn rest as well. Amen.
As you hear shofar today, offer a blessing in honor of the animals that provide horns for shofarot.
11. You shall make the altar…
Make its horns on the four corners, the horns to be of one piece with
it; and overlay it with copper (Exodus 27:1-2)
What were the horns on the altar? There are spiritual lessons hidden in even the most prosaic verses of Torah; what can we learn from the altar horns that will illuminate our understanding of shofar horns and our blasts during the Days of Awe?
Some scholars say the horns are vestiges from when our altars were shaped like horned animals such as the Golden Calf. Others posit that the beaten metal horns are a legacy from when altars were decorated with horns of animals that had been sacrificed upon them. Certainly, horns are symbolic of power and fertility and have been used in mythology and ritual since very primitive times. From this we learn that shofar connects us to one of the oldest, most deeply rooted needs we have as humans. If the use of horns did not serve us, the practices would not have survived thousands of years.
The altar horns are called "keren" in Hebrew. Keren means "horn", but also "ray" or any sort of eminence. Architecturally, they are part of the ancient tradition of erecting prominences at the corners of structures, like the acroteria that add emphasis to corners of classical Greek pediments. Were structure meets sky, the horns act as a sort of visual and spiritual lightning rod or antennae to join heaven and earth. That they were copper suggests the horns could conduct electromagnetism, so why not other energetic fields as well? From this we learn that shofar blasts, in the acoustical spectrum of the electromagnetic field, serve as focal points to our worship on the altar of the prayer.
There were four keren on the altar, and four calls on shofar - tekiah, shevarim, teruah, and tekiah gedolah. Talmudic discourse indicates that shofarot are made of keren, the horn of an animal. But not all keren, such as the horns of cattle, are acceptable for use as a shofar. Keren is of the physical plane; shofar enters the spiritual plane when it channels our prayers. From this we learn that we must breath life and intention into our horns in order to imbue them with ritual meaning.
From other references in Torah, we know that blood of sacrificed animals was dashed against the horns during Temple rituals, and that someone grasping the horns was to be granted asylum and refuge from attackers. From this, we learn that shofar sounds must be energetic blasts, just as the blood was dashed against the horns and not dribbled. Also, that hearing the blasts of shofar offers us relief and protection from the evil inclination.
Finally, we learn that the shofar has to be of one piece with our worship. We must enter into the shofar blasts and hear them, feel them, and become one with them. Our offerings on the altar, then and now, are made holy by wholeness. Amen.
As you hear shofar today, visualize yourself grasping the horns of the altar. From what do you seek refuge?
12. In the seventh month,
on the first day of the month, you shall observe complete rest, a sacred
occasion commemorated with loud blasts…and you shall bring an offering
by fire to the Lord. (Leviticus 23:39)
This is one of the injunctions establishing the Holy Day of Rosh Hashanah. An "offering by fire" originally required the sacrificial burning of an animal on the altar in the Miskon, the Tent of Meeting, and later at the Temple in Jerusalem.
How are we to observe this commandment today when we no longer observe Temple-based rites?
Now, our offering is tefillah, prayer. However the mere recitation of words from the prayer book does not satisfy the requirement. To serve as our sacrifice, our prayers must be offered with our souls on fire.
The High Holy Day liturgy says "Tefillah, Teshuvah and Tzedakah" - prayer, repentance and performance of good deeds - tempers the harsh decree as our record is reviewed by the Judge. Taking this T-cubed path can reduce sin to ash that is rich in nutrients that can be mixed into the soil of our soul to support growth.
Authentic prayer, like fire, is an exothermic reaction that releases energy in the form of teshuvah. It is also a catalyst that creates transformation without mechanical effort, allowing us to pray while still observing complete rest.
The loud blasts of shofar amplifies our prayer; it is the bellow that blows air onto a spark to create flame. Amen.
As you hear shofar today, breathe deeply to fully oxygenate your blood and stoke the fire of teshuvah.
13. Then you shall sound the horn loud; in the seventh
month, on the tenth day of the month - the Day of Atonement - you shall
have the horn sounded throughout your land…You shall proclaim release
throughout the land for all its inhabitants. It shall be a jubilee for
you; each of you shall return to his holding and each of you shall return
to his family." (Leviticus 25:9 -10)
"Jubilee" is derived from the Hebrew "yovel", a word that also means "horn". In ancient Israel, the yovel created a periodic redistribution of economic wealth. It prevented the establishment of a landed aristocracy, for example, because land-use rights that had been acquired over five decades returned to the clan to which the land had originally been assigned. Slaves and indentured servants were granted their freedom. Debts were forgiven. And everyone had an equal opportunity to make a new beginning.
What would our country be like if we observed a nation-wide yovel? Would the land be returned to the Sioux, Chumash and Iroquois? Would the time remaining until the yovel be so factored into loans as to make the forgiveness of debts meaningless? Would it really be justice if giving freedom to the indentured meant turning them out onto the street without the means to support themselves?
Still, there is one aspect of the yovel that is available to us, and we can enjoy its blessing each Yom Kippur and without waiting until the fiftieth year - the opportunity to make a new beginning.
We are granted the right to return to the spiritual home of our ancestors; I am not referring to the Land of Israel, but to live in a sukkot shalom - a divine shelter of peace. Our emotional debts - all that baggage we carry about the "could haves", "should haves", and "would haves" of human existence - can be blasted into forgiveness by shofar. And we are granted the right to choose freedom from our servitude to addictions and false gods. We truly have an opportunity to make a new beginning.
Some of us may feel so overwhelmed by the magnitude of the opportunity presented by the yovel that we become paralyzed and choose to stay in bondage. So here is a suggestion. It is not essential, nor is it likely, that we will be able to completely liberate ourselves in a single moment of atonement. Be we don't have to - it is enough to take even a small step into the yovel. You will have another opportunity next year, God willing, to take another step along the spiraling path towards liberation.
Rabbi Mordecai Findley has put it this way. Instead of praying to be freed from all sin in the coming year, "pray for a better class of sin," for the ability to make better choices and take healthier actions in our lives. When we do this for ourselves, we also become better able to "proclaim liberty throughout the land and to all the inhabitants thereof." Amen.
As you hear shofar today, meditate on the meaning of the yovel in your life. What can you do to liberate yourself? How can you help others enjoy the blessings of liberty?
14. Have two silver trumpets made; make them of hammered
work. They shall serve you to summon the community and to set the divisions
in motion. When both are blown in long blasts, the whole community shall
assemble before you at the entrance of the Tent of Meeting; and if only
one is blown, the chieftains, heads of Israel's contingents, shall assemble
before you. But when you sound short blasts, the divisions encamped on
the east shall move forward; and when you sound short blasts a second
time, those encamped on the south shall move forward. Thus short blasts
shall be blown for setting them in motion, while to convoke the congregation
you shall blow long blasts, not short ones. The trumpets shall be blown
by Aaron's sons, the priests; they shall be for you an institution for
all time throughout the ages. When you are at war in your land against
an aggressor who attacks you, you shall sound short blasts on the trumpets,
that you may be remembered before the Lord your God and be delivered from
your enemies. And on your joyous occasions - your fixed festivals and
new moon days - you shall sound the trumpets over your burnt offerings
and your sacrifices of well-being. They shall be a reminder of you before
your God: I, the Lord, am your God. (Numbers 10:2-10)
Rosh Hashanah occurs on the new moon of Tishrei, the first day of the seventh month of the Hebrew calendar.
Torah commands us to sound two kinds of wind instruments; the ram's horn (shofar) and the silver trumpets described in this verse. Now, the only Jewish rites in which we still use silver trumpets are during b'nai mitzvah, wedding parties, and other joyous occasions. When we need a more spiritually potent instrument, we rely today on shofar.
During the High Holy Days, shofar still summons us to assemble. The blasts calls us to teshuvah, to set ourselves in motion to return to wholeness. In our struggles to overcome moral weakness, fear, addiction, and other character defects, shofar remembers us to our Higher Power and strengthens us in our struggles with our enemies within.
Happy are the people who know the sound of shofar, for we will enjoy the new moon of Tishrei as a day of sounding and remembering shofar, and will experience a sacrifice in honor of our well-being. Happy are the people who sound and hear teruah, shofar blasts, as "an institution for all time throughout the ages". Amen.
As you hear shofar today, meditate on what you will offer as your sacrifice of well-being.
15. Surely, this instruction
which I enjoin upon you this day is not too difficult for you, nor is
it far off. It is not in the heavens, that you should say, "Who among
us can go up to the heavens and get it for us and impart it to us, that
we may hear it? Neither is it beyond the sea, that you should say, "Who
among us can cross to the other side of the sea and get it for us and
impart it to us, that we may hear it?" No, the thing is very close
to you, in your mouth and in your heart, that you may do it." (Deuteronomy
30:11-14)
In an important way, the shofar is not the horn, but the energy that flows through the horn. It is both the mechanical energy of acoustic vibration and the spiritual energy of prayer.
Many people have told me, "I could never blow shofar, it's just too difficult. I could never get to where I could sound it. I guess it is just not in me." I remind them of the above words of Moses. Then I add, "The shofar is already in you. You are the shofar."
In physics, objects each have a fundamental frequency at which they will vibrate. If the pitch of a sound impinging on an object is a harmonic of the object's fundamental frequency, the sound will set the object into motion. As the sound continues, more and more of its energy is transferred into the object, and the amplitude of the object's vibration increases. This is called resonance.
In the same way, each soul has a fundamental frequency that resonates to the sound of shofar. Our fundamental frequencies are not across the sea or in the heavens; they are programmed into every one of us. Activated by the harmonic of shofar, the amplitude of our vibrations increase and cause us to tremble.
This effect only occurs, however if we hear and listen to the sound. Otherwise, our inattentiveness and distractions act as dampers to suppress any spiritual resonance. Amen.
As you hear shofar today, remove all stops from your hearing and tune into shofar's resonance with your soul.
16. On the seventh day, march around the city seven
times, with the priests blowing the horns. And when a long blast is sounded
on the horn - as soon as you hear that sound of the horn… the people
shall advance, every man straight ahead. (Joshua 6:7)
I am not a pacifist, for I understand the need to take up arms in self-defense. Our taking of Jericho and the rest of Canaan, however, was an outright war of conquest. The words, "God is on our side" have been spoken by too many aggressors for them to justify our actions. We can only redeem our history if we learn from it to improve our character - individually and as a nation.
One way we can do this is by hearing shofar as a call for peace.
Jericho has fallen and been rebuilt many times throughout the ages. During the Roman era, a synagogue was built in the city with a tile mosaic of a shofar and Hebrew letters spelling out, "For the peace of Israel."
In my meditation, I see a conference table. The descendents of Jacob and the descendents of Ishmael sit around it, each tribe stiff-necked and barricaded behind stony walls of suspicion and intransigence. When their words no longer translate, one tribe stands, and walks around the conference table, an exercise that allows them to see their adversary and the possibilities from all possible angles. Then, the other tribe walks around the table and also gets new perspectives.
For six days, wordlessly, they take turns circumambulating and watching the other and looking into their own hearts. Then, on Friday evening, at the intersection of the seventh day of the Islamic calendar and the seventh day of the Hebrew calendar, the customary Jewish proscription against shofar on Shabbat is suspended because the mitzvah of making peace is given precedence. The two tribes circle the table together, seven times, like a bride and groom under a chuppah, each taking in the full essence of the other.
Then, when a long blast is sounded, the walls of separation fall. Each people advances, every man and woman straight ahead, to embrace cousins. Together, they rebuild a new Jericho with an inscription, "For the peace of all the children of Abraham."
It is only a vision, but I have been to the mountaintop and I have seen the promising land of peace. May it come speedily and in our own lifetime. Amen.
As you hear shofar today, create a vision of peace. Who is sitting around your table?
17. [Gideon] divided the
three hundred men into three columns and equipped each with a ram's horn
and an empty jar… Gideon and the hundred men with him arrived at
the outposts of the camp… They sounded the horns and smashed the
jars that they had with them, and the three columns blew their horns and
broke their jars…[and] they shouted… They remained standing
where they were, surrounding the camp; but the entire camp ran about yelling,
and took to flight. For when the three hundred horns were sounded, the
Lord turned every man's sword against his fellow…and the entire camp
fled… (Judges 7:19-22)
There is nothing like the surprise attack to confound an adversity. Mindful of this principle, our shofar blasts have been designed to yield maximum strategic value in our struggles with Satan, the evil inclination and angel of death, who acts as the chief prosecutor arguing the case against us when we are judged by God on Rosh Hashanah.
Our sages offer many strategies for confounding Satan. We are told, for example, that God will slay the angel of death at the end of time and that, since "The Great Shofar" will herald the end of time, our vigorous and repeated blasts bewilder Satan into thinking its time is up. We announce the approach of each new month on the Sabbath before the new moon, but we do not announce the start of Tishrei because it coincides with Rosh Hashanah and we do not want to remind Satan of this fact. Similarly, we do not sound shofar on the final day of Elul, the day before Rosh Hashanah, in order to confuse Satan into thinking it has missed its date in court to testify against us.
I can not attest to the effectiveness of the above. However, there is a spiritual offensive in which I do have faith: teshuvah, returning to the Light of Torah. Shofar calls us to create teshuvah, and hearing shofar daily throughout Elul gives us many opportunities to atone for our sins. As the Lubavitcher Rebbe Menachem M Schneerson says, "When a Jew repents properly prior to the onset of Rosh Hashanah, then he is already assured that he will be written and sealed in the Book of the Righteous. In other words, by repenting prior to Rosh Hashanah, his judgment for the good was already assured during the month of Elul."
When this happens, the prosecutor shows up in court only to be surprised that the case has already been dismissed. Amen.
When you hear shofar today, remember that that most cases can be settled before the Court date. Make the most of this opportunity for teshuvah.
18. Abner then called to Joab, "Must the sword
devour forever? You know how bitterly it's going to end! How long will
you delay ordering your troops to stop the pursuit of their kinsmen?"…Joab
then sounded the horn, and all the troops halted; they ceased their pursuit
of Israel and stopped the fighting. (II Samuel 2:26-28)
In too many chapters of Torah, the ram's bugle has had to call the charge into battle. Fortunately, it can also sound the call for a truce. We must be like Abner and speak the truth to warmongers and those who profit from fear. There are no winners and losers in war, only the dead and the survivors.
We are given a choice between life and death, and are commanded to chose life. To the question, "Must the sword devour forever?", we must answer, NO!
A Christian once asked me to blow shofar in his church where they were trying to understand the meaning of the shofar blasts at Sinai. Most of the preaching was in a language I did not know, but I was startled by the minister's frequent shouts, fist in the air, for, "Victory!" Sensitized by our history, I became frightened and wondered if he was exhorting his congregation to go to war.
Eventually I realized that, indeed, he was calling them to battle, but that the enemy was not you or me, any one, or any nation. It was a call for victory in the eternal struggle against temptation to do wrong and an exhortation to his flock to struggle against the evils of oppression and injustice. His call for "Victory", in reality, was exactly what we also hope to hear when we blow shofar during the Days of Awe.
In reflecting on how his words had seemed, initially, like a threat, I realize how often the sword is drawn simply because neighbors do not understand their neighbors, even when we and they are calling for the same things. It is my prayer that we be allowed to hear shofar as the voice of "Victory" announcing the end of fear and that the sword had been forever sheathed. Amen.
When you hear shofar today, listen for the call of Victory in your life.
19. David whirled with all his might before the Lord…Thus
David and all the House of Israel brought up the Ark of the Lord with
shouts and with blasts of the horn. (II Samuel 6:14-15)
My sister, Hanna Chusid, explains why we remember the yahrzeit, the anniversary of a person's death, rather than their birth date by saying, "When a person dies, their essence becomes more available to all of us." Applying this concept to the Temple in Jerusalem, the reality of its loss makes its sanctity more accessible to all of us.
In David's time, only the High Priest entered the Holy of Holies on Yom Kippur. Now, we are each capable of entering the inner precincts through prayer and meditation.
Then, the King and the priests performed the sin offerings to propitiate the Lord. Now, we must each perform tzedakah, tefillah and teshuvah - acts of justice, sincere prayer, and repairing the rifts in our soul - as our sacrifice.
Then, the presence of the Eternal was most accessible within the walls of a structure. Now, we can also know the indwelling presence of Spirit.
It is fitting and proper that we mourn the destruction of the Temples. Yet we redeem the loss whenever we worship with all our might before the Lord and praise God with cheers and blasts of shofar. Amen.
As you hear shofar today, visualize yourself in the presence of the Ark and offer praise.
20. But Absalom sent agents to all the tribes of Israel
to say, "When you hear the blast of the horn, announce that Absalom
has become king in Hebron." (II Samuel 15:10)
Joab…took three darts in his hand and drove them into Absalom's chest. Absalom was still alive in the thick growth of the terebinth, when ten of Joab's young arms-bearers closed in and struck at Absalom until he died. The Joab sounded the horn, and the troops gave up their pursuit of the Israelites; for Joab held the troops in check. (II Samuel 18:16)
This pair of verses marks the beginning and end of Absalom's rebellion against King David. The references to shofar do not, at first reading, advance the narrative or appear to impart spiritual or moral instruction.
Regarding Biblical references to shofar, Cyrus Adler says in his scholarly paper, "The Shofar - Its Use and Origins", published by the Smithsonian Institution in 1893, "the shofar is not as frequently mentioned as the constancy of its use for certain purposes might lead us to expect. The infrequency of its mention is in a way, however, a sort of evidence of the frequency of its use. The blowing of the bugle is as regular a part of a charge as the horses on which the cavalry is mounted. Its picturesqueness would naturally strike the mind of a poet and so references to the shofar in the prophetical books are numerous."
Understood this way, these references to shofar are used as literary devices to mark the beginning and end of an episode.
We can still use shofar this way, to mark the beginning of new chapters in our lives and the end of behaviors or attitudes that are no longer healthy or useful to us. This is shofar's call to teshuvah, a call to end our inner struggles with the parts of ourselves that are in rebellion against our higher purposes. Amen.
As you hear shofar today, hear it's voice announce a new beginning. What rebellions - against yourself, your family, your community, or God - are you ready to end?
21. And in that day, a great
ram's horn shall be sounded; and the strayed who are in the land of Assyria
and the expelled who are in the land of Egypt shall come and worship the
Lord on the holy mount, in Jerusalem. (Isaiah 27:13)
Sounding shofar recalls the prophetic vision of the ingathering of exiles. May the day not be distant, of course. But meanwhile, what are we to do until the messiah comes?
The answer is, we create tikkun olam - the healing of the world.
Rabbi Zalman Schachter-Shalomi has compared the world to an organism. Within the world, each nation or tribe is an organ vital to the well-being of the living organism. Similarly, each person is like a cell necessary to the functioning of the nation or tribe. If too many cells become unhealthy, the organ becomes diseased and can no longer do its part to sustain the whole organism.
Each of us lives, to one degree or another, in exile from ourselves. Our hearts argues with our heads. Our feet don't follow our visions, and it is all too easy to close our eyes to truth. We put on psychological armor when we need extra protection, but forget to take it off when we among friends and loved ones.
We do not need to wait for the "great" ram's horn to get started; even a very ordinary shofar will suffice. By hearing and heeding shofar's call to teshuvah - the return from our exiles - we can move towards health and wholeness.
Then, when we pray, "May the One who creates peace in the heavens create peace on earth," the corollary will also be true: by creating peace - wholeness - on earth, we create wholeness throughout all the worlds.
As you hear shofar today, listen for the faint voices of the parts of you that are in exile. Allow shofar to be a beacon to guide your fragmented self back into wholeness.
22. Cry with full throat, without restraint;
Raise your voice like a ram's horn!
Declare to My people their transgression.
To the House of Jacob their sin.
To
be sure, they seek Me daily.
Eager to learn My ways.
Like a nation that does what is right,
That has not abandoned the laws of its God,
They ask Me for the right way,
They are eager for the nearness of God:
Why, when we fasted, did You not see?
When we starved our bodies, did You pay no heed?
Because
on your fast day
You see to your business
And oppress all your laborers!
Because you fast in strife and contention,
And you strike with a wicked fist!
Your fasting today is not such
As to make your voice heard on high.
Is
such the fast I desire,
A day for men to starve their bodies?
Is it bowing the head like a bulrush
And lying in sackcloth and ashes?
Do you call that a fast,
A day when the Lord is favorable?
No,
this is the fast I desire:
To unlock the fetters of wickedness,
And untie the cords of the yoke
To let the oppressed go free;
To break off every yoke.
It is to share your bread with the hungry.
And to take the wretched poor into your home;
When you see the naked, to cloth him,
And not to ignore your own kin. (Isaiah 58:1-7)
The words of the prophet are as true today as when first spoken. In our individual quest for the nearness of God, we must not forget the needs of others. Our liturgy for the Days of Awe tells us that we do not merit Divine mercy by prayer and repentance alone; we must also perform tzedakah. While often translated as charity, a fuller meaning of this concept is to take actions that lead to justice. When we hear shofar, it calls us to tzedakah. Even when we do not hear shofar, we must be the shofar and cry out against injustice with our own voices. Amen.
As you hear shofar today, become the shofar and raise your voice as a call to action. What steps will you take today and in the coming year to create justice?
23. Thus said the Lord;
Stand by the roads and consider,
Inquire about ancient paths:
Which is the road to happiness?
Travel it, and find tranquility for yourselves.
But they said, "We will not."
And
I raised up watchmen for you:
"Harken to the sound of the horn!"
But they said, "We will not."
Hear
well, O nations,
And know, O community, what is in store for them. (Jeremiah 6:16-18)
The road to happiness is not the road of comfort and ease sought by so many in our society. Instead, the prophet maps for us the road of living according to God's commandments and in moment-to-moment Torah-consciousness.
The ancient path is rigorous. It requires us to perform acts of loving kindness without measure. To seek peace and pursue it. To leave the corners of our fields unharvested so the widow and orphan can feed themselves. To care for the sick. To love the stranger in our midst. To maintain fair weights and measures. To redeem the enslaved. To refrain from poisoning the land. To remove the stumbling blocks before the blind.
Torah-consciousness is Jewish spirituality. There is a prevailing illusion that the spiritual path goes from peak to peak of blissful awareness of the Divine. If we pursue only those moments of awe, we loose sight that all of life is holy, and that we can sanctify every moment by observing mitzvot and lifting up holy sparks.
The watchman has blown the shofar: The ice caps are melting, yet we maintain our addiction to fossil fuels. We can not maintain the levees because we cannot afford our sandbags, yet war profiteers stuff theirs with gold. Our leaders lie and are caught in their lies, but are not held accountable.
Soon after Jeremiah issued his warning, we were led away as captives to Babylon. Perhaps we are again, unwittingly, captives in Babylon.
Oh, indeed, the watchman has sounded the horn. Hear it well for the prophet has told us what will happen if we fail to head its clarion call.
As you hear shofar today, reflect on how you can help our nation return to the path of happiness.
24. All you peoples, clap
your hands, raise a joyous shout for God…
God ascends midst acclamation; the Lord to the blast of the horn. (Psalms
47:2, 6)
This Psalm is typically read in the Rosh Hashanah liturgy just before the blowing of shofar. It is an appropriate verse for the occasion because of its reference to shofar and reiteration of two major themes of the High Holy Days: God's coronation (malchuyot) and glorification (shofarot). Beneath the surface, however, it is also a parable about the power of teshuvah, repentance.
Unlike most Psalms, this one is written by the "Sons of Korah". Numbers Chapter 16 tells how Korah orchestrated a rebellion against the leadership of Moses. While the language of his challenge is an intriguing appeal to a more egalitarian society, midrash expounds that Korah was a demagogue who clothed himself as a populist to advance his own agenda. God, apparently, agreed, for the ground "opened its mouth and swallowed them up with their households."
Yet, when Korah's story is restated in Numbers 26:11, we learn that, "the sons of Korah, however, did not die." Not only did they become Psalmists, they merited producing the prophet Samuel among their descendants.
Midrash explains the discrepancy by saying the sons honored their father by appearing to follow his lead, but realized that his cause was, ultimately, a rebellion against God. This led the sons to feel remorse and to feel the stirring of repentance in their hearts. While they remained in the Rebel's camp, even this small stirring of teshuvah, repentance, was sufficient to merit God's mercy. Instead of going to Sheol, the pit, when the earth swallowed them, they were preserved in a special place in Gehenon - a place of perdition - where they composed and sang their songs of gratitude and praise to God.
During the Days of Awe, we are like the sons of Korah, neither condemned to Sheol nor fully pardoned, dependent upon God's mercy. We read Psalm 47 for its reassurance that there is yet hope for us. If the sound of shofar creates even a small stirring of repentance in our hearts, there is yet hope for us. Amen.
As you hear shofar today, have the courage to look into even the darkest corners of your soul and know that there is yet hope.
25. Happy is the people who know the joyful shout;
O Lord, they walk in the light of Your presence. (Psalm 89:16)
This verse is read in many congregations after shofar is blown.
The shofar blast is a joyful shout.
We do not know what tomorrow brings, but we have had the gift of life for the past year; so we shout with joy.
We have enough breath within us to blow the horn. The Baal Shem Tov says that the only difference between nature and a miracle is their frequency. So we shout for the miracle of breath.
Despite our disappointments with God, our fears of God, and even our anger at God, we still shout. Rabbi Jonathon Omar-Man says that "God always answers our prayers, even if sometimes the answer is 'No'." So we shout with joy because our God is a true God.
We have sinned. Oy! The alphabet is not long enough to enumerate all the ways we have sinned. But we know that through tzedakah, tefillah and teshuvah - acts of justice, prayer, and sincere effort to improve our ways - we can avert the harsh decree. So we shout with joy because we have a merciful God.
There is no problem too enormous, no attitude too intractable, and no problem too complex to resist being bathed and purified in the sonic mikvah of the shofar. Happy, happy is the people who know how to release their cares into the joyful shout.
Even when it cries, the shofar blast is a joyful shout. It is the raucous, joyous cry of a new born year.
Yes, the shofar blast is a joyous shout. Amen.
As you hear shofar today, feel the joyous shout wash your soul.
26. Nebuchadnezzar spoke… "Now if you are
ready to… worship the statue of gold that I have set up when you
hear the sound of the horn… well and good; but if you will not worship,
you shall at once be thrown into a burning fiery furnace, and what god
is there that can save you from my power?" (Daniel 3:14-15)
In most of these meditations, I have used the first person plural, "we", after the manner of making our confessions as a people during the Days of Awe. Here, however, I am confronted with a personal recognition that I must confess as an "I".
In my enthusiasm to understand all the teachings of shofar, I have come perilously close to making it into an idol or at least a physical presence in which I recognize the divine. As I read the story of Shadrach, Meshach and Abed-nego, a tongue of the super-heated furnace in which they were tested leaps out and singes me as a warning against worshiping a physical object, whether made of gold or of common horn.
It is not the instrument that makes shofar precious. Nor does the breath which animates the calls or even the blasts which we are commanded to hear - they too are of the physical realm. What makes shofar dear is the kavanah, the intention we have to obey the Divine commandment to remember shofar.
Maimonides says the following about the kavanah of shofar: "If the person hearing had the intention of fulfilling his obligation, but the person blowing did not have the intention of facilitating the latter's performance of the mitzvah, or the person blowing had the intention of facilitating his colleague's performance of the mitzvah, but the person hearing did not have the intention of fulfilling his obligation, the person hearing did not fulfill his obligation. Rather, both the person hearing and the one allowing him to hear must have the proper intention." (Mishneh Torah, Hilchot Shofar 2:4)
Hearing a blast of the horn had no power over our three friends in Babylon because it was neither sounded nor heard with the kavanah of remembering God's revelation at Sinai. Amen.
As you hear shofar today, concentrate on your intention to hear its voice in fulfillment of the mitzvah, God's commandment.
27. As for the builders,
each had his sword girded at his side as he was building. The trumpeter
stood beside me. I said…"There is much work and it is spread
out; we are scattered over the wall, far from one another. When you hear
a trumpet call, gather yourselves to me at that place; our God will fight
for us!" (Nehemiah 4:12-14)
I was only eight or nine years old the first time I read the story of Ezra and Nehemiah in my Child's Book of Bible Heroes. There was something that set the two of them apart from other bible heroes, something attractive to me even as a young child.
Many of the heroes in the book were men (that's how they taught it back then) of faith who wrestled with ideas I could not yet understand. And others were exciting action figures who could triumph against all but impossible odds. However, the resolute pioneers who returned to Zion from exile in Babylon had the best qualities of all the other heroes combined. Moved by faith, they built something tangible, practical, and magnificent while fighting off an enemy at the same time. They were our good guys, and they were cool!
Now, I too wrestle with ideas that I still don't understand. And against all odds, I am also a survivor of too many struggles to recall. But Ezra and Nehemiah and their followers are still my heroes.
Only now I know that the true heroes are not just those we read about in books. Heroes are also very ordinary men, women and children who quietly and steadfastly live their lives one day at a time, build their communities, create tikkun olam - the repair of the world, and defend the weak, the hungry and the needy even while struggling with questions of faith they do not understand.
It takes a real hero to listen to the call of the trumpet. Shofar asks, "Will you respond when your community needs you?" "What are you building?" "Are you engaged in a just struggle?" "With what tools have you girded yourself?" "Is this a wall that should be built or a wall that should be removed?" "Have we spread ourselves too thin?" "Are we too far from one another?"
The prophet says that "Our God will fight for us." But first, he says, we have to respond to the trumpet call. In addition to its literal meaning, being called to "that place" can also mean, being called to Ha'Makom", the Place of God. Are you listening for the call? Amen.
When you hear shofar today, listen to hear where you are called.
28. Whoever would not worship the Lord God of Israel
would be put to death, whether small or great, whether man or woman. So
they took an oath to the Lord in a loud voice and with shouts, with trumpeting
and blasts of the horn. (II Chronicles 15:13-14)
Asa, the King of Judah, was King Solomon's great grandson. We are told that, "Asa did what was good and pleasing to the Lord his God." He rid Judah of altars to other gods, built defenses so "the land was untroubled for 10 years," won a stunning victory over a much larger invading force, and restored the altar in the Temple in Jerusalem.
We are also told that, "He (Asa) ordered Judah (the nation) to turn to the Lord God of their fathers and to observe the Teaching and the Commandment.", and that, "All Judah rejoiced over the oath, for they swore with all their heart and sought Him with all their will." (Emphasis added.)
These two statements seem at odds with each other. Can true teshuvah, the return to God's ways, really be ordered at the edge of a sword? It does not seem to work when Jews are forced to convert to another religion. During the Spanish Inquisition, for example, many people who sang the loudest in church continued to practice as crypto-Jews at home. One of the origins of the Kol Nidre prayer we recite on Yom Kippur was to release ourselves from vows we were forced to make in order to preserve our lives.
Perhaps the reason for Asa's ardor in imposing his Faith was that he, himself, had little faith. We are told that he eventually stopped trusting in God, bringing wars upon the country and illness upon himself as a consequence.
Asa was not trying to convert gentiles; his order was to members of the tribes of Judah and Benjamin whose allegiance to the God of Israel had lapsed. Perhaps there may have been a more effective way for him to promote teshuvah. Instead of forcing the fallen to take an oath and then hear shofar, he should have tried blowing shofar first. For over three thousand years, its cutting cry had turned the children of Israel back to the Lord God, of their fathers and mothers, even without the threat of blood.
In the language of 12-Step programs, shofar's calls work by "attraction, not promotion." It's the nonviolent alternative in teshuvah. Amen.
As you hear shofar today, feel gratitude for the freedom you have to decide for yourself whether "to observe the Teaching and the Commandment." Then, make the right choice.
29. Tomorrow
is Rosh Hashanah. It is customary to refrain from sounding the shofar
on this day.
There are many legends that say this is done to confuse the Satan - the accusing angel - so Satan will not know when to appear before God to present the evidence against us.
I prefer a more pragmatic explanation: After nearly a month of hearing shofar, we may have become habituated to its sound. By skipping today, the blasts we hear tomorrow will seem fresher and more powerful.
May you be written and sealed for a good year.
- Michael Chusid
Copyright
2005 by Michael Chusid, shofarot@gmail.com
Bible Translations are by Jewish Publication Society, 1985
Meditations
of the Viddui Prayer,
by
Rabbi Debra Orenstein
