In the Torah, Rosh Hashanah is called “Yom T’ruah – day of
the shofar call” (Numbers 29:1) and the central mitzvah (commandment) of
the day is to hear. Before the shofar is blown, the person who is going to blow
it says the blessing: “Who has sanctified us with God’s commandments and
commanded to hear the sound of a shofar.” Yes, even the person blowing the
shofar fulfils his (or her) obligation when hearing the sound, not when
producing it.
On Rosh Hashanah, we are not only obliged to hear but to listen.
More than other mitzvot, those involving hearing (Shofar and megillah,
hearing the Book of Esther on Purim) require kavannah (intention). In
everyday life, a myriad of voices and sounds enter one ear and leave through
the other, without making an impression. A mitzvah demands more of us.
Maimonides in
the Mishneh Torah (Laws of Repentance 3:4) explains:
Even though the sounding of the shofar on Rosh Hashanah is a
scriptural decree, nonetheless it contains within it a hint, namely: Wake
sleepers from your sleep, and those who slumbers from your slumber, examine
your deeds, return in repentance and remember your Creator.
Maimonides emphasizes awakening as a preliminary for introspection.
Rabbi Joseph Soloveitchik adds another level. In his
reading, a sleeping person is an object, in the grammatical sense of the word,
because sleep takes away our ability to act. Therefore, the sound of the shofar
calls on us to become active and responsible (grammatical) subjects. He
contends that a human created in the Divine image “must be not only an object
but also active, vigorous subject, a free person who thinks and acts
independently…. With free choice, who can influence and not only be influenced
and directed by others.”
Rabbi Soloveitchik gives an example that
is particularly apt for Rosh Hashanah: Adam and Eve. According to some midrashim
(homiletical interpretations), Adam and Eve created on the
first of Tishrei and sinned on the first of Tishrei. According to Rav Soloveitchik their statements, “The woman You put at my
side–she gave me of the tree, and I ate” and “The serpent duped me and I ate”
(Genesis 3: 12-13) were the opposite of a good defence because they actually
admitted having forfeited their self-determination and being acted upon by
others, Eve by the snake and Adam by Eve. 5780 years ago, Adam and Eve failed
at their task. Can the shofar help us do better?
If we accept the call to be subjects who take responsibility for
our lives, the importance of attentive listening will not end but actually be
intensified. We read about several biblical examples this morning.
The Torah reading for the first day of Rosh Hashanah (Genesis 21:1-34) begins with the happy news of
Isaac’s birth, but quite quickly the family situation goes sour. Sarah cannot
tolerate the presence of Hagar and Ishmael, and demands, “Cast out that
slave-woman and her son” (verse 10). Sarah’s pain is real, maybe even justified
but Abraham seems surprised and paralyzed by the messy relationships in his
household (and not for the first time). God intervenes and tells him: “whatever
Sarah tells you, do as she says” (verse 12). Abraham hears and understands the
words in the simplest possible way. He does exactly what Sarah asked, but that
was not the only option.
According to Rabbi Naftali Zvi Yehuda Berlin (19th
century), Abraham missed the point.
Noting the use of the Hebrew preposition ב
instead of the more usual ל, means that God was
telling Abraham not to listen to Sarah’s words but rather to seek her meaning.
If only he had listened to Sarah’s distress, Abraham might have been able to
find a solution less severe than throwing two people out of their home with
barely adequate provisions. Abraham was in a position of power but his less
than attentive listening left him has an object who acted in response to
others.
Thirsty and feeling helpless, Hagar is incapable even of
comforting her son so she separates from him. There is nothing left for them to
do but cry. The cries of Ishmael (whose name means, “God hears”) are indeed
heard on High but the angel answers by speaking to Hagar because she is the one
who must be the responsible adult. Despite her physical and emotional weakness,
she listens. As a result, God reveals the well to her and she begins to
function again. Coming back from the threshold of death, at the bottom of the
social hierarchy, Hagar manages to rouse herself be a subject, and take
responsibility for herself and her son.
Hannah’s position is different. A free, Israelite woman, the
first wife of a respectable man, she is barren and longs for a child. Penina,
her co-wife (literally “rival” in Hebrew) hears her and mocks her. In spite of
his professed love, Elkanah finds it hard to listen. So Hannah takes her
petition to God. While praying, she encounters another man who does not
understand, Eli, the priest and manager of the shrine at Shiloh. He thinks that
she is drunk and scolds her. Hannah does not accept his attitude because of his
high status, rather she corrects him with a polite but honest and
matter-of-fact explanation. Eli listens, accepts correction and blesses her.
Hannah may be a prime example of sincere prayer and personal initiative, but
Eli demonstrates that listening can lead to repentance and repair.
So far, I have presented stories about listening within a fairly
limited circle, a family, household, or community; people who are in close
proximity to each other. But Shofar also calls us to listen to those who are
distant and different, even an enemy. Does the shofar also call us to be
attentive to our adversaries? Yes.
The Babylonian Talmud (Rosh Hashanah 33b) notes that the Aramaic
word for teruah is yevava, and in an attempt to better understand
its meaning seeks a verse where it appears in another context. The verse they
find is “Through the window peered Sisera’s mother, behind the lattice she
wailed: “Why is his chariot so long in coming?” (Judges 5:28). Deep within the
shofar’s sound, the wailing of Sisera’s mother calls to us.
Life is complicated. We can praise Yael who killed Siera, saving
her people, our people, and also hear the anxiety of his mother.
After the Tekia (long shofar blast) awakens us to take responsibility for
our lives, its Terua (wail) urges us to listen to carefully to everyone around us, not
to settle for a simple or superficial understanding, but to really listen and
seek the complex solution that serves - as far as possible - the interests of
as many parties as possible. Maybe then we will merit to say honestly:
Happy is the people who know the teruah sound; O Eternal, they walk in the light of Your
presence. (Psalm 89:16, recited
after the Shofar is blown).
Rosh Hashanah I 5780, Hod veHadar
The Song of Moses in this week’s portion is overflowing with flowery, descriptive language. One of most conspicuous images is the metaphor comparing God to a rock or boulder, something stable and enduring. At first glance the verse, “The Rock! God’s deeds are perfect” (Deuteronomy 32:4) is challenging. The Rock is enduring and strong but is God’s creation perfect? Not so much. Alongside magnificent landscapes and tremendous natural resources, and people who are loving, generous and brilliant in many fields, there are horrifying natural disasters, horrendous diseases, murderers, thieves and all sorts of unsavory characters.
