The Shofar’s Experiential Call

By Mrs. CB Neugroschl

There are many meanings behind the shofar’s call: the coronation of Hashem; a clarion call and reminder of repentance; reclaiming our z’chut avot, the merit we received from our forefathers. Still, with a Rosh Hashanah liturgy containing pages and pages of carefully composed prayers and piyutim that address all these aspects, the shofar also serves to give a voice to the unspoken words. The shofar remains a uniquely unformed expression. The question that follows is why? Is it merely symbolism, merely referential to specific moments in our history where the shofar was significant? And if so, why does it retain such prominence in the chag?

At the close of a recent conference held at the Harvard University Graduate School of Education, an unassuming woman from Canada’s Northwest Territories stood and asked permission to share her “shrill.” In a quiet voice and with grace, she described the Native American custom to share a shrill–a high-pitched whistling tune unleashed in the face of a great personal accomplishment. Her shrill reminded me of how much we can learn from what is not said.

It seems easy to relate to the blasts of the shofar as a wild call of deep yearning–perhaps, l’havdil, akin to the Native American shrill. No words, just a call from the depths of our fears and hopes expressing the wish for a future so desperately that we may never have the right words to articulate. How does the Rosh Hashanah liturgy and ritual reflect this value of the shofar as a prayerful call that inspires us in ways beyond what the vast words of our machzor can achieve?

Is there a basis within our traditional texts and values for valuing the wordlessness and unshaped call of the shofar?

While blowing the shofar is mentioned only three times in the Torah in relation to Rosh Hashanah, the prominence of the shofar blasts in the liturgy cannot be overestimated. As we call Rosh Hashanah Yom Teruah, not Yom Tefillah, getting the shofar blasts just right is clearly essential.

Rosh Hashanah is a chag with a complex identity whose aspects are all poignantly expressed in the mitzvah of tekiat shofar. On Rosh Hashanah, we have ample reason to celebrate; the creation of the world and the coronation of Hashem as our Sovereign are the primary themes of Rosh Hashanah. Still, the solemnity of the day is ever-present.

Rosh Hashanah is Yom HaDin, the Day of Judgment, and its celebratory theme is paired with the weightiness of teshuvah culminating with Yom Kippur. The stark contrast between the aspects of Rosh Hashanah is challenging to grasp as we balance the themes of Rosh Hashanah and dance between emotions.

How does the mitzvah of tekiat shofar contribute to these dueling identities of Rosh Hashanah?

The Gemara in Rosh Hashanah 16a identifies the shofar as the vehicle through which we can fulfill both aspects of Rosh Hashanah. Apparently, both requirements to celebrate Hashem’s sovereignty and to remember the deeds of the past (worthy and not worthy) are linked to the shofar.

Shofar As A Celebratory Instrument

Certainly the shofar is recognizable as an instrument used in ceremonies to coronate a king. As we celebrate the sovereignty of Hashem, the use of a shofar to accomplish this is not surprising at all. In describing the moment of revelation at Har Sinai, we have a shofar blast signifying the celebrations and the momentous occasion of accepting the Torah celebration and the judgment.

“The sound of the shofar was getting continually stronger. Moshe would speak and G‑d would respond with a voice” (Sh’mot 19:19).

Further, the Gemara lists Rosh Hashanah as the date of numerous nationally historic moments each deserving of celebration. As we recognize Hashem’s sovereignty over the world, in accepting His Torah and our commitments as His people, we are also recognizing the way in which He has a hand in the design of the events of significant turning points for Klal Yisrael. The shofar was there and brings us back, as a nation, to that moment.

“R’ Eliezer said, ‘The world was created in Tishrei; the forefathers were born in Tishrei and died in Tishrei. Yitzchak was born on Passover. On Rosh Hashanah, Sarah, Rachel, and Chana’s prayers [for a child] were answered. On Rosh Hashanah, Yosef was freed from prison; on Rosh Hashanah, our forefathers in Egypt stopped performing slave labor. In Nissan we were redeemed; in Tishrei we will be redeemed’” (Rosh Hashanah 10b—11a).

In this domain of Rosh Hashanah, the shofar represents grandeur and harkens back to Har Sinai, the foundation of our covenant, our acceptance of a relationship with Hashem in which He would be our guarantor and us His.

The clearest depiction of Rosh Hashanah as Yom HaDin is the Gemara’s description of Hashem sitting before the open heavenly ledgers, the sifrei chayim and sifrei meitim–the books of life and books of death. The actions of each person are inscribed in these books and these actions are being measured and weighed, informing the fate of each person. In this way, on Rosh Hashanah, the scales of justice hang in the balance as the value of our past year is measured against the merit of another chance.

Certainly this theme is most prominent in the Unetaneh Tokef section of our Rosh Hashanah prayers, which depict a personal moment of judgment as each person files before Hashem as a sheep before its shepherd, totally dependent and totally indebted.

How can the call of our shofar even approximate the same message of this poignant image? Perhaps the blasts of the shofar are hinting at this aspect of our dependence on Hashem, His merciful, compassionate, and caring shepherd’s eye, to spare us a harsh judgment.

Rav Soloveitchik describes the power of the shofar on Rosh Hashanah in just those terms. The shofar is to be experienced, not simply heard. It can be the force that forces you to reckon with your reality. In the same way that many mitzvot in the Torah have a level of fulfillment beyond the action required, in order to fulfill the mitzvah of tekiat shofar, one must not only hear the blasts of the shofar, but connect us to a part of ourselves that is at our very core. The Rav described this as hirhur teshuvah–a jarring awakening.

This, according to the Rav, is the condition that the shofar provokes. A jarring recognition of our realities that are buried deep within us. This experience must be evoked by an experience that the words of the machzor don’t approximate. In the voice of the shofar, we are returned to our inner beings and we are thus prepared for teshuvah.

This state of being, hirhur teshuvah, may come about suddenly, as the blasts of the shofar, but it is a prerequisite stage for teshuvah. While teshuvah must be, according to the Rambam, a thorough process with multiple difficult stages, hirhurei teshuvah can be so powerful as to catapult a person through teshuvah with great force and speed.

This can be illustrated by the story of the death of R’ Chaninah ben Tradyon. As R’ Chanina was being burned to death, a Roman officer tried to ease his pain and he himself died then.

“A heavenly voice called out: R’ Chanina ben Tradyon and the officer are invited to the World to Come. Rebbe cried and said, ‘There are those who can acquire their portion in the World to Come in one moment, and there are those who acquire it over years.’” (Avodah Zarah, 18a).

The shofar blasts on Rosh Hashanah can surely be encountered as thought-provoking, symbolic reminders or as poignant markers of the significance of Rosh Hashanah z’chut avot. Alternatively, if we can allow ourselves to experience the power of the shofar blasts, they can help us achieve so much more. The shofar is an instrument that erases the distinctions of each person’s current setting, their davening skills, or the markers of their intellectual abilities.

Even the possible judgments that we have of each other can fall away. The shofar blasts can shake each of us equally, and express for us what we cannot say even to ourselves, resurfacing our innermost fallacies. The shofar speaks of what makes us shiver when we face the awesomeness of a Divine being Who believes in our capacity.

The shofar cries out for us in ways that words and formulas cannot. Our experiences are awakened; not our intellectual selves, not our emotional selves, but an integrated whole being that is the sum of all the experiences that shape who we are. The shofar makes Rosh Hashanah a Yom Teruah, a day when we can share a single voice of celebration and hope, of past and future, of blessings and of aspirations. It can unify the voices and dreams of our people. May its call be heard. v

Sources: Vayikra 23:24, 25:9; Bamidbar 29:1.

Mrs. CB Neugroschl is Head of School at Yeshiva University’s Samuel H. Wang High School for Girls. This article originally appeared in YUTorah’s Benjamin & Rose Berger Rosh Hashana & Yom Kippur To-Go 5777.