The Shofar: A Spiritual Alarm Clock

Sermon given September 30, 2005, by Rabbi Allison Bergman Vann




And in the seventh month, on the first day of the month, you should have a holy convocation: you should do no work: it is a day of blowing the shofar for you.
Numbers 29:1

The Shofar is the symbol of the high holy days. Its' plaintive notes evoke memories of High Holy Days past, and seem to speak to a deep place in the soul that can only be awoken by those particular sounds: Tekiah, sh'varim. teruah. . .

I remember, in my little synagogue, as a child, sitting in brown metal folding chairs in the back of our Sanctuary which had been expanded into the social hall, waiting for the shofar calls to begin. At that time, it wasn't customary for children to come up front, or to sit in the aisles. But the shofar, was a rams' horn, and that, was of great curiosity to me. I had touched it in Religious School and smelled nature's smell still clinging to it. I was utterly fascinated by it's noise. So, on the holy days, I'd sneak, just a little, into the aisle, to try to see the shofar blower. I remember, every year, being surprised at how much noise it could make, and loved watching the face of the man blowing the shofar as he coaxed such volume from the animals' horn!

My childhood fascination with the shofar has not ceased; I still find the sound of the shofar intense and exciting. Part of that energy, I believe, comes from the fact that we hear it so rarely. It is important to note that that the shofar, as unusal as it is today, was not unusual in ancient times. Universally used to call communities together for worship, events, or in cases of emergency, the shofar's call was much more common. As one of the oldest instruments known to humankind, it was used pervasively in ancient culture. It is no surprise that our ancient forefathers also used it to announce holidays' arrivals, and to help towns communicate events.

Our tradition teaches that the roots of the shofar's entry into our spiritual repertoire are from the difficult, gut wrenching story of the binding of Isaac. As a brief reminder, Abraham had been called upon by God to bring his son Isaac to the top of a mountain to sacrifice him. Abraham, difficult as it was, complied with God's request, and after a few days' journey, reached the mountain, built an altar and bound his son to the sacrificial spot. However, God called out to Abraham, recognizing the depth of his faith, and instead, provided a ram for the slaughter offering. In his book, Abraham, A Journey to the Heart of Three Faiths, Bruce Feiler, interviewing Mr. Cohen, said: “If you want to go to court,” he said, “you take a good lawyer. The shofar is like a good lawyer. It reminds God of Abraham's obedience in being willing to sacrifice that which was more dear to him than life itself. As Rabbi Abbahu said [in the Talmud], 'When you hear the shofar, recall the akedah and account it to your credit as if you bound yourself to the altar before me.'” The shofar, as symbolic of the ram's sacrifice, is a reminder that Abraham was willing to comply with the ultimate test of faith. It is a reminder that we,too, must try to serve God with our heart and soul.

In addition to the traditional reason for the ram's horn, its' visual appearance is also symbolic: it crookedness reminds of humility. As the shofar is bent, we, too must remember to be humble before God.

On the High Holy Days, we are humbled as we earnestly repent for our sins, to do teshuvah. Saadiah Gaon, an ancient teacher from Babylon, imparted: “The shofar summons us to the feeling of humility before God's majesty and might, which are manifested by all things and by which our own lives are constantly surrounded.” While he wrote that around the year 1000 CE, it applies beautifully today. The shofar asks us to turn inward, to be humbled before God, and to work to perfect our personal partnership with the Divine. The raw sounds of the shofar are to shake us awake from our spiritual slumber, and remind us of our need for ultimate modesty.

A teacher once noted that the shofar is in the shape of a question mark. That question mark, he noted, is personal. As the shofars blasts are directed at each of personally, we are to listen to the questions the shofar asks.

What is the first question? Perhaps we can find it in a well known story, about Reb Zusya: as he contemplated judgement with trembling and fear, he used to say: “When I stand before the throne of justice, the Holy One will not ask me, 'Zusya, why were you not Moses, or Abraham; He will ask me Zusya, why were you not Zusya?”

The shofar's question is: Why were you not your best self?

The second question can be found in a story from the Bible about Elijah. Elijah, exiled from his country after preaching God's message, and being rejected, journeyed for 40 days. He reached a cave. Exhausted and disheartened, he called on God. From the cave, he heard the terrifying sounds of earthquakes, fire, and thunder. But they left him unmoved; he did not experience God in these wonders. When, however, he heard the voice of fine silence, he was struck by awe and understood that God was in the silence. Covering his face with his mantle, he came out to confront the ultimate question, poised by God: "What are you doing here, Elijah?"

The shofar's question is: What are we doing here, you and I?

These two questions are penetrating and personal-fitting as we contemplate our year past, and the year to be.

Yes, for us, the shofar is much more than a trumpet heralding a convocation. The shofar serves as our spiritual alarm clock, it's questions ringing in our ears. Its' noise triggers us to wake up to the tasks of the High Holy Days, to the deepest of demands and questions. Our medieval teacher, Ramban, teaches:

"Although blowing the shofar on Rosh Ha-shana is a divine decree, it contains a hidden message, namely: 'Slumberers awake from your sleep ... inspect your actions and repent'...

As a sacred alarm clock, the shofar encourages us to awaken from our spiritual slumber.

Let the shofar, this high holy day season, be as a siren, urging us forward on our personal examinations. May our hearts hearken to Your call, God, so that we may be able to arise from our spiritual slumber. May the shofar blasts strengthen our decisions to lead more significant lives dedicated to You. Help us to sensitize our hearts and souls so as to achieve in the coming year a life more dedicated to our truest self. Amen.


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