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!
