Shofar

Shofarot – by Treasure Cohen

September 27, 2017 By blogmaster Leave a Comment

It may come as a surprise to you, after the many hours you have spent over the years sitting in services for Rosh Hashana, that the Torah proscribes only 2 things you need to do to observe this holy day— 1) you should not work; and 2) you should hear the sounds of the shofar. Sounds like a pretty ideal way to spend the holiday! And In fact, Torah does not refer to this holiday as Rosh Hashana, the head of the year, because it does not occur at the beginning of the Biblical calendar but rather in the 7th month. In the Torah this day is actually called Yom Terua— the day of the sounding of the shofar.

This presents a curious paradox to me. We are the people of the book, people who use words to pray, to teach, to explain, to emote. And yet, the centerpiece of this holiday—the blowing of the shofar —is devoid of words. It is only about sounds—primitive and primal sounds that emanate from a humble ram’s horn. What is our tradition trying to teach us?

Our rabbis and scholars have debated this puzzle for generations. How do we make sense of a ceremony that speaks to us without words?

According to some of our sages, the shofar is a symbol that connects to dramatic moments in our ancient past. We read in Exodus that the blast of the shofar emanating from the thick cloud on Mount Sinai made the Israelites tremble in awe. The shofar was used to announce holidays and the Jubilee year. Joshua used the shofars to make the walls of Jericho come tumbling down and King David put the shofar into his royal orchestra. In Temple days, the shofar was blown on every important occasion. And of course, as we read today about the sacrifice of Isaac, we remember that the shofar caught in the brambles was a source of redemption.

So we can look at the shofar as an instrument that ties us to our past. In fact, another name of this holiday is Yom ha Zikaron, literally a day of memory, when the sounds of the shofar invoke our connection to history.

Other scholars have connected the blowing of the shofar with the coronation of a king. Traditionally, a new king was crowned at the beginning of the year. And of course when a king is crowned, there is a lot of pomp and ceremony, including the heralding of the King with trumpets and horns. Since God is our king, every year we renew our commitment and obedience to God with our own fanfare. With the sound of the shofar, we proclaim God as our king and our only king.

So that may explain the Malchuyot, kingship verses, which we will recite before the first shofar blasts. And it may explain the Zichronot, verses that invoke memory that we say before the next shofar blasts. And at last come the Shofarot, words that connect us to the wordless sounds of the shofar. This is the most challenging of all—for how do you use words to describe and interpret a wordless horn blast. And of course, since this is the most challenging, the Rabbis probably found it the most provocative . So here are some of the interpretations

And of course, since this is the most challenging, the Rabbis probably found it the most provocative . So here are some of the interpretations

The shofar is the sound of the voice from the heavens, like thunder and lightning, demonstrating the power of God
The shofar is the sound of the humble shepherd’s horn, calling us—the sheep—back home.
The sound of the shofar recreates the birthday of the world when every creature is called to judgment before God.
The shofar is like the sound of the alarm clock— the wake-up call to repent our sins.
The shofar is our collective cry to God— the splintered call of the people Israel, sharing our pain, our love, our dependence.
The shofar is God’s answer—telling us that God hears with compassion our collective cries
The shofar is the sound of liberation, calling the dispersed of our people and assembling our scattered ones from the farthest ends of the earth
And sometimes the shofar is just the sound of raw emotion— reflecting our cries, our groans, our moans, our sighs— a wordless .prayer that transcends our intellect but penetrates our souls .

I am reminded of one of my favorite stories about a little shepherd boy who played a willow flute. He blew it in the morning when he took his sheep to the meadow and he blew it in the evening when he took his flocks back home, But one day, he went home a different way and passed a synagogue. The mystical sounds that he heard from within overpowered and beckoned him and at last could not hold back and he went inside. He witnessed the congregation praying and he was so moved that he wanted to join them, but he did not know the words, so instead he picked up his flute and he played his own spontaneous melody—sweet, plaintive, mournful and beautiful. Suddenly everyone stopped praying—He saw the whole congregation staring at him with great distain and then in unison, they filled the room with a great loud disapproving shhhhh. He was embarrassed, he was ashamed and he tried to disappear—but as he backed toward the door, he heard the Rabbi’s voice calling him back. “Thank you, thank you!” said the Rabbi, “You have taught us all how to pray; we may know the words in the book but you have taught us true prayer— the prayer that comes from our hearts. Perhaps the shepherd boy actually had a shofar, not a flute. And perhaps this story can give us one more insight about the meaning of the shofar. Maybe the wordless sounds of the

Perhaps the shepherd boy actually had a shofar, not a flute. And perhaps this story can give us one more insight about the meaning of the shofar. Maybe the wordless sounds of the shofar represent the voice of humility and remind us that we do not need to know the words to offer our prayer to God, for the most powerful prayers come not from the book or from our intellect, but from our hearts.

— Treasure Cohen September 2017

The Shofar – by Natasha Cooper-Benisty

September 27, 2017 By blogmaster Leave a Comment

Rabbi Moshe ben Maimon or Maimononides offers an explanation of why we blow the shofar. It is interesting that there was a need by the Rabbis to explain this mitzvah since many of the 613 mitzvot are regarded by our sages as commandments not to be interpreted. Rather they are accepted as actions we need to take because they have been commanded by G-d, even if we don’t understand exactly their purpose. Maimonides stated that even though we know that tekiat shofar or shofar blowing is decreed by our Torah, thus suggesting that we don’t need to try to figure out why it exists, it does contain an important message: Wake up from your sleep, look at your actions, repent for them and remember your Creator.

There are four different sounds of the shofar heard in the service: Tekiah, Shevarim, Truah and Tekiah Gedolah. According to the Zohar, the great text of the Kabbala or Jewish mysticism, the notes of the shofar are but “outer shells that hide an inner meaning”. Each distinctive sound represents a hidden truth and is rich in symbolic meaning.

Rabbis Milton Friedman and Mendell Lewittes have some interesting explanations for these various sounds. Rabbi Friedman sees the Tekiah (the long shofar blast) as an announcement: “Awake those who slumber in selfishness”. Friedman explains this as self-centeredness, an individual’s concern with family, work and leisure, while forgetting the rest of the world. He points to routine and amusements that yield diversion, but not contentment, in addition to using one’s social life as an escape from oneself.

Rabbi Lewittes wrote in 1973 that the tekiah sound is an alerting sound, an alarm to make us apprehensive of an alarming situation. At the time Lewittes wrote that if any one of us is under the illusion that all is well with the Jewish people, that our situation has never been as secure as it is today with the establishment of the State of Israel and three victories on the battlefield, that we have no need of worry or concern, this tekiah is sounded in order to wake us up to the dangers which still threaten the safety of our people. Ironically, although it is now more than 40 years later and one could argue that Israel is as powerful as it ever was, the Jewish people as of late seem to be dealing with a recurrence of global anti-Semitism mostly disguised as anti-Israel sentiment. Unfortunately American Jews have not escaped this reality and for many of us, this is the first time that we are feeling vulnerable and scared; in particular college students dealing more than ever with BDS on campus.

Rabbi Friedman explains that the sound of Shevarim (the three shofar blasts) is a call to hear the sighs and the laments of the oppressed of the world. While we live in comfort in our local community, many millions of people are living in slums, misery and poverty. In fact, we only have to travel a few miles to find many people living in challenging circumstances without enough resources to live decently. At the Interfaith Food Pantry of the Oranges, for example, the client base has grown dramatically in recent years as cutbacks to SNAP benefits have dovetailed with the constant increasing expenses of living in New Jersey. It is important for us to pay attention to our neighbors and do what we can to support the pantry and other local charities that can help them.

Rabbi Steinberg writes that the teruah (the many fragmented notes) is a call to battle to fight for social justice declared by our ancesters Moses and Amos, prophets of Israel, to destroy forever the injustice of the world. It is a war for human equity and liberty. Rabbi Lewittes writes that our sages taught that the teruah sound symbolizes a person’s wailing and that these notes are designed to awaken us to the cry of those who suffer and that list is long and varied from our fellow Jews who suffer from injustices due to their religion, to the world at large which is full of people suffering from poverty, illness, hunger, loss of freedom, economic exploitation and man’s inhumanity to man.

These notes should be a wakeup call for us to look around and see what is going on: climate change due to global warming which continues to lead to unprecedented natural disasters due to unheeded warnings and deniers having too much influence; inequity between people growing larger and larger due to corporate greed and lack of empathy by many of our political leaders, anti-Semitism which has always been there often under the surface, but has of late returned to the forefront, the list goes on and on.

But don’t just sit tight, if you haven’t already, get involved. Blow your shofar – in other words, make a noise to get heard. Don’t stay complacent when so much is as stake for each of us in every community worldwide.

Finally the Tekiah Gedolah, the lengthly shofar blast is explained by Rabbi Lewittes as the great sounds of prophetic vision and humanity’s hopes, of universal peace and brotherhood of the fulfilment of redemption for our people and for all humankind. At this time of the year, or more importantly at this time in the history of the United States and the world, this idea cannot be more appropriate. We are in desperate need of good people throughout the world to come together to push against the negative forces that try to divide us. As Lewittes reminds us, we are living in the era of Kibbutz Galuyot, the ingathering of the exiles, as well as the beginning of our redemption. We have a State of Israel for all Jews and if we can just unite together in the spirit of unity and help those of us who need help, we will hasten the coming of peace and justice for all

To the Jewish community, the shofar seems to be one unique symbol that captivates us as a community at large. From little children who may either be afraid or fascinated by the sound, to older children who love trying to blow the shofar, to adults who look forward to the sections of the service in which they will have the opportunity to stop and listen and contemplate as the different notes are blown. This year, what will you reflect on?

Introduction to Shofarot in the Musaf: By Jeff Bruckner (Rosh Hashana, 2013)

September 10, 2013 By blogmaster Leave a Comment

Around 1850, Schopenhauer pronounced noise to be the supreme archenemy of any serious thinker. His argument against noise was simple: A great mind can have great thoughts only if all its powers of concentration are brought to bear on one subject, in the same way that a concave mirror focuses light on one point. Just as a mighty army becomes useless if its soldiers are scattered helter-skelter, a great mind becomes ordinary the moment its energies are dispersed.
Even though we may not be a great mind thinking great thoughts like Schopenhauer, we are similarly affected by noise. He further said that “even people who are not philosophers lose whatever ideas their brains can carry in consequence of brutish jolts of sound”.
Another example of the search for silence: Shimon bar Yochai, the author of the Zohar (the foundational work of Kabbalah), hid in a cave for thirteen years studying the Torah, according to Jewish legend. I think we can safely assume that there were no Shofarot in his cave.
Certainly the Shofar is noise – and I think we can all agree that it interrupts our thoughts. Following the logic, therefore, the Shofar is the archenemy of thought. What wisdom within Jewish tradition embraces such a paradox?
Doesn’t wisdom require thought?
Doesn’t spirituality require thought?
During these high holy days, we are encouraged to think about our transgressions in order to prepare for our year to be written into the book of life. Why does the Shofar interrupt our serious work? Isn’t the thinking of such thoughts, after all, one of the central pillars of the Rosh Hashanah (and Yom Kippur) services?
Perhaps we should conclude that the purpose of the Shofar is to keep us from thinking. Why? Let me offer some possibilities; perhaps you will find one of them useful as you participate in the Shofar Service:

The Shofar is to remind us of a specific thought – the presence of G-d. The corollary – the thoughts of the Torah are to be preferred over our own. Think of the Shofar as a guide for our thoughts, not something that prevents or destroys them.
The Shofar is meant to bring us out of the realm of thought and into the realm of community. In other words, don’t get so caught up in in the Kavanah (intention) that you forget about the Keva (routine). Or perhaps better said, this is not just a personal journey, but a community affair, and the Shofar is reminding us to look around us and connect with each other.
The Shofar is a call to action. The Shofar connects us to our ancestors though ritual, and rituals contain power. Simply by doing what has been done for thousands of years give us, the community, power – power than can be used to do something that matters. What might that be? As Dave Gray (contemporary thinker and author) has said: “… there are only two conversations that matter. Everything else is just noise [no pun intended]. The first conversation is the one that frames or re-frames people’s view of the world. The second is the one that moves them to action.” What will we decide to do this year?
Finally, perhaps the whole point of the Shofar is not to interrupt us, but to get us to practice returning to where we left off. In other words, the Shofar is helping us practice remembering. Consider this Hasidic teaching: “Existence will remain meaningless for you if you yourself do not penetrate into it with active love and if you do not in this way discover its meaning for yourself. Everything is waiting to be hallowed by you; it is waiting to be disclosed and to be realized by you. For the sake of this your beginning, God created the world.” Rather than an attempt to steer us, the Shofar knows that we already know the way. It knows that life is a series of interruptions that distract us from our true purpose, and it is trying to teach us. The Shofar is saying, “If you can remember who you are after my interruptions in the service, then you can remember who you are after you leave this sanctuary and reenter your life”.

Remarks Before Shofar Blowing: By Dan Anbar (Rosh Hashana 2013)

September 10, 2013 By blogmaster Leave a Comment

Today we are commanded to hear the sound of the shofar. This commandment first appears in Leviticus 23:24-25. It says: “In the seventh month, on the first of the month, it shall be a Sabbath for you, a remembrance of the shofar blast; a holy occasion.” In the next verse the scripture continues: “But on the tenth of this seventh month, it is a day of atonement, it shall be a holy occasion for you; you shall afflict yourselves.”

The immediate proximity of these verses suggests that the two Holy Days, Rosh Hashanah and Yom Kippur, are linked through a single idea. The blow of the shofar, representing this idea, is the thread connecting the beginning and the end of this period and makes it one whole. This ten-day period starting with Rosh Hashanah and ending with Yom Kippur is referred to as Yamim Nora’im – Days of awe. The period starts with the blow of the shofar on Rosh Hashanah and ends with the blow of the shofar at the end of Ne’eelah as we usher Yom Kippur out.

What is this single idea, and what is the significance of the shofar?

The central theme of Yamim Nora’im is the idea of repentance. We live our lives interacting with people, making choices, saying words and making decisions. We sometimes make poor choices offending people and God. Yamim Nora’im is when we take “time out” to reflect on how we conduct our lives and have the opportunity regret, and repent, and correct the wrongs we committed against God and our fellow human beings. The shofar blast is what our ancestors heard as Moses delivered the commandments at Sinai. The scripture tells us that the event was accompanied with “a very powerful blast of a shofar” and that “the sound of the shofar grew increasingly stronger.” Moses spoke and God answered him with a voice; a sound, rather, as Rashi interprets the text (“Be’kol” = a sound that has the quality of a voice). So as Moses was reading the commandments God was confirming them “with a voice” – the sound of the shofar. The shofar is the most powerful means of communicating with God. The Leviticus text is using the phrase “a remembrance of the shofar blast.” The word is “Remembrance” not “Reminding.” It is not to remind God about God’s revelation to Moses. Rather, it is for us to remember the defining event in our history and the commitment we made as a nation at that time: “So Moses came and told the people all the words of the Lord and all the ordinances, and all the people answered in unison and said, “All the words that the Lord has spoken we will do.”” (Exodus 25:3)

Our sages added a symbolic meaning to the mitzvah of blowing the shofar. The shofar is a ram’s horn, Thus, the shofar blasts remind God of the ram that Abraham sacrificed in Isaac’s stead. This, we hope, will remind God of Abraham’s faith and his complete obedience as reflected in the Akedah story. Perhaps this memory will give us credit in God’s eyes that we as Abraham’s descendents too are capable for complete and full repentance. Perhaps it will remind God of His own regrets of even having the idea of asking for sacrifice of Isaac?

It is the tradition in some synagogues to blow the shofar every morning during the month of Elul up until the day before Rosh Hashanah. This is intended to remind the congregation of the coming of the Day of Judgment and urge them to prepare themselves. The Hassidim have an additional explanation for this custom: It is to confuse Satan who comes before God during the “Ten days of Awe” to play the Accuser’s role. Blowing the shofar during the month of Elul will, they hope, confuse Satan and he would lose track of the counting of the days. Stopping the blowing the day before Rosh Hashanah will make him to think that Yamim Nora’im are over and so we will have God’s full attention on Yom Kippur without Satan’s interference.

Today and tomorrow we will hear 100 blasts of the shofar. It is a mitzvah to hear at least 30 of these blasts. So if you miss hearing some of them today you have another chance tomorrow to fulfill the mitzvah.

Ketivah veHatima Tova!