A wordless stirring of souls

ESTHER TAUBY

This year, Rosh Hashanah begins on Wednesday evening, Sept. 28, and continues through Friday, Sept. 30. Just as Rosh Hashanah ends, Shabbat begins, so we have a unique situation that the holiness continues for three days. Many people begin thinking about the special holiness of this time of year while others contemplate what the new year might bring. Various feelings surface while memories of past years come to mind.

Have you ever had the following experience? It’s Rosh Hashanah. You’re in your synagogue surrounded by many other congregants, following the prayers and trying to get into the heightened spirituality of the day. You are reading along, even singing the familiar tunes you recall from past years, and you are happy to be with your family, friends and community on this very holy day.

Then the announcement comes that the shofar will be blown momentarily and perhaps the rabbi gives a brief explanation of its significance. Children of all ages are brought in from outside the sanctuary to be included in this special once-a-year mitzvah. A hushed silence falls over the crowd. Everyone is waiting with anticipation. Youngsters rush upstairs and downstairs to stand next to their parents and grandparents, huddle under tallitot and around the bimah. Intense concentration is palpable on the faces of the congregants as the appropriate verses are recited seven times before the shofar blowing. Little eyes open wide with excitement. The designated shofar blower pulls his tallit over his head and lifts the shofar to his mouth as all eyes focus on him and all ears prepare to hear the haunting sounds of the ancient instrument. Then, suddenly, from somewhere in the congregation, a wailing cry pierces the silence. All eyes and ears try to locate the sound. Then everyone glares at the offending baby while waiting impatiently for its parent to whisk it out of the synagogue so the shofar can be heard clearly by one and all and pierce the heavens.

Immediate, automatic thoughts include: Now? Of all times? Couldn’t the baby wait a few minutes? What about the parents? Why did they even bring such a little one? That’s so disrespectful! And on such a holy day.

After a moment, we might move on to a more circumspect perspective. Maybe it isn’t the poor baby’s fault that it needed something precisely at that moment. Perhaps the parent couldn’t get a babysitter, or maybe they wanted to bring their baby to hear the shofar, too. Is it fair to glare at the already embarrassed parent?

There is also a deeper perspective on this situation, based on various commentaries on Rosh Hashanah. Perhaps it is possible that the baby cried at that critical moment for a specific reason. A baby’s cry touches each of us; who wouldn’t want to move quickly to take away that baby’s pain. Perhaps

G-d made the baby cry precisely at that moment to remind us of how none of us can resist that cry. Maybe it was to remind us of why we gather together as one congregation, united together – men, women and children of all ages, from the youngest to the oldest – about to cry to G-d from the innermost source of our souls. Maybe this infant truly understands prayer, which doesn’t need words at all, as it comes from the part of our soul that is connected to G-d’s soul, a deep and pure source.

So we turn to G-d, knowing that as our Father, He can’t resist our cries. While we may not be able to comprehend the complex nature of our relationship with Hashem, we know what it feels like to be children, and those of us who are parents and/or grandparents know too what it means to be deeply moved by the cries and pain of children.

That baby’s wail from somewhere in the shul has the power to transform us so that each of us is like a child calling out for a parent. There is no need to worry about struggling to figure out the meaning of every prayer in the machzor, the prayer book for Rosh Hashanah; just replace those prayers with the image of a small child calling out. Hashem cannot resist the cries of his beloved chi1dren, especially millions of them calling to Him from all over the world on the same day!

It is appropriate then that the focus during Rosh Hashanah is on the special mitzvah of shofar blowing, a primal call to Hashem. One hundred sounds are blown on each day of the holiday. There are three types of sounds blown with the shofar. They are called the tekiah, shevarim and teruah. The tekiah sound is one long sound, the shevarim is three shorter sounds and the teruah is made up of even shorter sounds. Each unique sound represents the cries of repentance that our souls make during the month of Elul before the High Holidays and on Rosh Hashanah itself. (For more information about the shofar sounds, see “Awakening the soul connection” in the Sept. 18, 2009, issue of the Jewish Independent.)

There are many explanations given for this mitzvah and its mystical meaning. In Psalms, it is written, “Happy are the people that know the trumpet call; O G-d in the light of Your countenance they shall walk.” (89:16) This verse is recited immediately after the shofar blowing on Rosh Hashanah. (The trumpet refers to the shofar and “the call” refers to the teruah sound made by the shofar.)

The founder of Chassidism, Rabbi Yisrael ben Eliezer (known as the Baal Shem Tov), explained as follows: the epitome of spiritual work is a broken heart; the perfected manner of spiritual service is that of walking humbly (with G-d). Happy are the people who know the teruah, who know how to shout for joy as they break their inflated sense of separate existence, the ego. Inwardly, their heart is broken, but outwardly they are joyous, as they have merited to be true servants of G-d.

The Baal Shem Tov renders teruah as referring to the breaking of an inflated ego and haughtiness. Similarly, the Chassidic interpretation of the verse “Make joyfulness to G-d all the earth,” (Psalms 98:4) says that, for the sake of G-d, one must break an earthly sense of impediment, that is, material existence. So the teruah sounded on Rosh Hashanah is the sound resulting from the breaking of the long, simple note into numerous short notes.

As we stand this Rosh Hashanah in our synagogues on Thursday and Friday morning, with anticipation for the auspicious moment when our souls will cry out to our loving Father through the sounds of the shofar, let’s remember that we are all G-d’s children. When He embraces us in His loving arms and forgives us for all our past mistakes, may we feel relieved, revitalized and renewed knowing that we can then go home to celebrate with family and friends, and enjoy a delicious festive meal, assured of our place in the Book of Life for a truly sweet New Year. Wishing one and all a shana tova u’metuka, a good and sweet year. Ketiva v’chatima tova, may you be written and sealed for a good year.

Esther Tauby is a local educator, writer and counselor.

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