My close friend and noted author, Robert Herscowitz, shared with me a story about his earliest memories of the shofar when he was growing up in South Africa.
“I couldn’t have been more than three years old. My father would lift me up so I could both see and hear the ‘instrument.’ I remember being fascinated, almost mesmerized, by the short notes that resounded throughout the sanctuary. It was over all too quickly, and I wanted to hear it again.”
His appetite had been whetted. “Every year, I looked forward to those sounds. I began to associate the shofar-blowing with a very mysterious time of year when our huge ‘Cathedral’ synagogue was filled with people dressed in their Rosh Hashanah finery. Everyone remained silent as the notes were sounded. All of this took place in Johannesburg, where I was born and raised.”
Robert has one memory which he always carries with him. “Most stirring for me was hearing the shofar as I watched the footage of the recapture of Jerusalem’s Old City when [IDF chief rabbi] Rav Goren sounded the shofar in front of the Kotel [after the IDF won it back from the Jordanians during 1967’s Six Day War]. From then on, the shofar began to assume new meaning for me.
“It became the harbinger of significant events for Jews, whether festive and positive or for something like a rallying cry when Israel and the Jewish people are about to face some huge existential wake-up call. Hearing that ancient instrument for the first time in the month of Elul each year still gives me goosebumps.”
What does the shofar mean to us?
As we read the words of Robert Herscowitz, we are reminded that the shofar is one of the most important symbols of the month Elul beginning September 3, and then Rosh Hashanah and the conclusion of Yom Kippur. Let us listen to what the shofar can mean to us.
Amichai Lau-Lavie, an innovative Jewish educator, has written about the importance of the objects we use during the coming festive season.
“During the High Holy Days, we are involved in the verbal process of acknowledging who we are and how we wish to change ourselves for the better. But beyond the words we use, we do many things and experience the season through our bodies, and not just our minds.”
Lau-Lavie continues in this fashion. “We eat certain foods, like apples and honey, and remember the taste and mood of the holiday. We hear certain sounds, like the shofar, and we experience something inside that goes beyond words. The sights, smells, and feelings all amount to one thing... an integrated awareness in our bodies and our minds of the New Year.”
He concludes that “very often the things we do, rather than the things we say, are what we remember.”
The first sounding of the shofar each year is at the beginning of Elul, September 4, a month before Rosh Hashanah begins on October 3. Each morning we recite at the end of the Shacharit service the Penitential Psalm 27. Then the shofar’s tekiah, shevarim, and teruah are sounded – this a daily act except for Shabbat and the morning before Rosh Hashanah. We each receive a reminder that the days of judgment are near at hand.
Moreover, this year we hope that the sounds of the shofar will bring all the hostages home.
The shofar was used to announce the jubilee-yovel year and the proclamation of freedom throughout the land. “Thou shalt cause the shofar to sound...and you shall hallow the fiftieth year, and proclaim liberty throughout the land to all its inhabitants, and you shall return every man to his family.” This verse from the Book of Leviticus was selected, even before the American Declaration of Independence in 1776, to be engraved on the Liberty Bell in Philadelphia. In Liberty Bell Park in Jerusalem, it is possible to examine the replica of that famous American icon – biblical verse and all.
In the Book of Numbers 29:1, the shofar is mentioned in the ritual for Rosh Hashanah. “You shall observe it as a day when the horn [shofar] is sounded.” The shofar was commanded to be part of the New Year observance by this prescription. It was defined as a ram’s horn by the sages, who included in the Rosh Hashanah service the story of Isaac on the altar and the ram caught in the thicket by its horn, who replaced him.
The shofar became “the ritual horn” of the Jewish people as well. When the Torah was given on Mount Sinai, the shofar was sounded. When the walls of Jericho fell, the shofar was utilized. The victory of judge Ehud ben-Gera over the Moabites was marked by the sound of the shofar. At Ein Dor, Gideon and his hundred men blew the shofar as an accompaniment to their surprise attack.
The first sounding of the shofar each year, as mentioned, is during the weekday mornings of Elul, the month before Rosh Hashanah. After the recitation of the Penitential Psalm 27, the tekiah, the shevarim, and the teruah can be heard. This is a daily act except for Shabbat and the day before Rosh Hashanah. Most important, it is a reminder that each individual must prepare for the days of judgment ahead.
Many years ago in The Washington Post, a story ran in September before the High Holy Days, “A Rabbi’s Unorthodox Reveal.” The reporter wrote the following lead: “The 30-second television ad begins with a blast of the shofar, the Jewish ceremonial ram’s horn. A young bespectacled rabbi then extends an invitation. ‘Please join me for an incredible Rosh Hashanah and Yom Kippur at Washington’s National Synagogue.’”
Many Washington Jews were critical of this PR blitz by an Orthodox rabbi, but the shofar caught people’s attention. The phone rang nonstop, and the shul was packed for the High Holy Days.
My fellow chaplain in the US Army, the late Alan Greenspan, made aliyah with his wife after being on a career track in the army until he had to retire. I have had the opportunity to write about his experiences while serving in Vietnam from 1965-1967. While he was under fire, I served in Fort Sill, Oklahoma, where we were training the draftees and sending them to serve in artillery divisions in Vietnam, some never to return.
In Greenspan’s book With a Siddur and a Salami or S.O.S. Send over Salamis, he wrote about an interesting experience he had at Fort Benning, Georgia, in 1965.
“A Jewish student (soldier, in the Officer Training Program) had been chosen as acting commander of his unit. The trainees rotated the leadership roles in the company.” That individual approached Greenspan. “He asked if he could borrow a shofar, a ram’s horn that is used on the High Holy Days to call the people to repentance. He wanted to use it as an instrument to rally the men. This, after all, was how it had been used in biblical times.”
Chaplain Greenspan wrote, “It was some sightseeing soldiers being led by a commander who summoned them with the blast of the shofar and marched them with an Israeli song.”
I dedicate this article to my close friend, the late chaplain Alan Greenspan, and my late wife, Rita z”l.