The shofar is the quintessential symbol of Rosh Hashana.
Is it just a primitive trumpet? Or is there a much greater
story to be told?
During
the blowing of the shofar on Rosh Hashana, notice there
are three distinct sounds:
Tekiah -- one long, straight blast Hear the sound
Shevarim -- three medium, wailing sounds Hear the sound
Teruah -- 9 quick blasts in short succession Hear the sound
Rosh Hashana is the day of appreciating who God is.
We then internalize that understanding so that it becomes
a living, practical part of our everyday reality. God is
all-powerful. God is the Creator. God is the Sustainer.
God is the Supervisor. In short, God is King of the Universe.
But
for many of us, the idea of a "king" conjures
up images of a greedy and power-hungry despot who wants
to subjugate the masses for his selfish aims.
In
Jewish tradition, a king is first and foremost a servant
of the people. His only concern is that the people live
in happiness and harmony. His decrees and laws are only
for the good of the people, not for himself. (see Maimonides,
Laws of Kings 2:6)
The
object of Rosh Hashana is to crown God as our King. Tekiah
-- the long, straight shofar blast -- is the sound of the
King's coronation. In the Garden of Eden, Adam's first act
was to proclaim God as King. And now, the shofar proclaims
to ourselves and to the world: God is our King. We set our
values straight and return to the reality of God as the
One Who runs the world... guiding history, moving mountains,
and caring for each and every human being individually and
personally.
Maimonides
adds one important qualification: It isn't enough that God
is MY King alone. If ALL humanity doesn't recognize God
as King, then there is something lacking in my own relationship
with God. Part of my love for the Almighty is to help guide
all people to an appreciation of Him. Of course this is
largely an expression of my deep caring for others. But
it also affects my own sense of God's all-encompassing Kingship.
When we think about the year gone by, we know deep down
that we've failed to live up to our full potential. In the
coming year, we yearn not to waste that opportunity ever
again. The Kabbalists say that Shevarim -- three medium,
wailing blasts -- is the sobbing cry of a Jewish heart --
yearning to connect, to grow, to achieve.
Every
person has the ability to change and be great. This can
be accomplished much faster than you ever dreamed of. The
key is to pray from the bottom of your heart and ask God
for the ability to become great. Don't let yourself be constrained
by the past. You know you have enormous potential.
At
the moment the shofar is blown, we cry out to God from the
depths of our soul. This is the moment -- when our souls
stand before the Almighty without any barriers -- that we
can truly let go.
On Rosh Hashana, we need to wake up and be honest and objective
about our lives: Who we are, where we've been, and which
direction we're headed. The Teruah sound -- 9 quick blasts
in short succession -- resembles an alarm clock, arousing
us from our spiritual slumber. The shofar brings clarity,
alertness, and focus.
The
Talmud says: "When there's judgement from below, there's
no need for judgement from above." What this means
is that if we take the time to construct a sincere, realistic
model of how we've fallen short in the past, and what we
expect to change in the future, then God doesn't need to
"wake us up" to what we already know.
God
wants us to make an honest effort to maximize the gifts
He gave us. You aren't expected to be anything you're not.
But you can't hoodwink God, either.
The
reason we lose touch and make mistakes is because we don't
take the time everyday to reconnect with our deepest desires
and essence. The solution is to spend time alone everyday,
asking: Am I on track? Am I focused? Am I pursuing goals
which will make the greatest overall difference in my life
and in the world?
Make
it a habit to keep in touch with yourself, and when Rosh
Hashana comes around, the alarm clock of the shofar won't
be nearly as jarring!
