Our sensory life is defined by sounds, images, smells and feelings. The High Holidays are accompanied with the intensity of the sound of the Shofar, a transcended sound that stirs different, and sometimes contradicting, emotions in the heart of the listener; from fear to longing. In my father’s home the Tekiah was accompanied by trepidation - perhaps I would not hear the Tekiah properly; perhaps the “Ba’al Tokeah” would not succeed in making the sound in accordance to Halacha; and perhaps I would talk and create a “Hefsek” between the first Bracha and final Tekiah. With the passage of time, these anxieties were replaced by others; replacing the anxiety stemming from Halachic framework, was the knowledge that judgment awaits, rendering the sounds of Shofar a relief.
Even though the sounding of the shofar on Rosh Hashanah is a decree, it contains an allusion. It is as if [the shofar's call] is saying: Wake up you sleepy ones from your sleep and you who slumber, arise. Inspect your deeds, repent, remember your Creator. Those who forget the truth in the vanities of time and throughout the entire year, devote their energies to vanity and emptiness which will not benefit or save: Look to your souls. Improve your ways and your deeds and let every one of you abandon his evil path and thoughts. (Maimonides, Hilchot Tshuva, 3;4)
The initial reference to the Tekiah is as “Gezirat Ha’Katuv” – prescribed directly from the Torah and a religious duty, without an explanation or meaning. In his later comments, Maimonides offers meaning that can be attributed to the sounds of Shofar; rather than a random sound it becomes a voice calling us to leave our entangled paths. It is as if God himself is making the Shofar’s sound, using it to communicate with us. This sound can be frightening, even terrifying. It is this meaning that Maimonides calls a ‘hint’, or in the original Hebrew – רמז.
And indeed, when the act of Tekiah is performed merely as the Mitzvah or the law of the day, our focus becomes executing it in a manner that suits Halachic demands. It is only through slight hints that we meet this ‘voice’ and hear it clearly. But there comes a time in life that we are confident enough in the “Gezirat Ha’katuv” to open up to another layer. We search for a deeper place where we can hear the voice of the Shofar. Perhaps then, we are even ready to go to the next level of the words of Maimonides, becoming the ones sounding that voice ourselves.
This idea, that the sound of the Shofar is the voice of man turning to God can be found in the words of our sages:
Recite before Me on New Year [texts making mention of] kingship, remembrance, and the shofar-kingship, so that you may proclaim me king over you; remembrance, so that your remembrance may rise favourably before me; and through what? Through the shofar. R. Abbahu said: Why do we blow on a ram's horn? The Holy One, blessed be He, said: Sound before me a ram's horn so that I may remember on your behalf the binding of Isaac the son of Abraham, and account it to you as if you had bound yourselves before me (Rosh Hashana, 16a)
Via our Shofar sounds, the memory of the Binding of Isaac comes before God. The Shofar is thus attributed with a renewed meaning. It is a tool to remind God of the people of Israel. Man is making the voice and God is the audience. The tool itself, the Ram’s horn, has a special role as well. This idea determined the wording for the special Rosh Hashana Brachot. In Birkat Zichronot: “And the Binding of Isaac, for his decedents, you shall remember in mercy. Baruch ata Adonai, who remembers the convenant”. In Birkat Shofarot: “For it is you who hears the voice of the Shofar…Baruch ata Adonai who hears the shout of Israel his people with mercy”. The voice of the Shofar is the voice of the nation; the memory of the Binding of Isaac is a national memory.
The evolution of identity of the “Ba’al Tokeah”, from god to man, is central in Chasidism. The cry of the Shofar, as a national tool reminding of the binding of Isaac is replaced with the personal cry of the lonely individual. A story attributed to the Ba’al Shem Tov suggests:
Tekiah is “Bechinat” - in the aspect of’ - simple voice, a simple scream for the bottom of man’s heart for being separated from God… we use a ram’s horn in accordance to “You save both man and beast, O Lord”.
And this parable was explained by the Ba’al Shem Tov, [a tale of] a king who had an only child who was well versed and was liked by the king as the king himself. The King had an idea that the child would go to other lands to learn their wisdom, so he may become a great leader. His father gave him many ministers, servants and money so he can tour the countries and island and reach a higher level than he could achieve back home.
And as the expanses were many, since the child was accustomed to great luxury, he sold all that he had. And in the meantime he reached a land where no one heard of his father. And as the child said he was the child of said king, no one believed him since they didn’t recognize his father’s name.
As he saw nothing could be done about this, he decided to come back home to the land of his father. But over the time he had forgot the language of his father’s land. [And all that time the father waited at his palace’s window and looked for the return of his son. And his own ministers told him his son must be already dead and would not return]
And when he finally came back, there was nothing he could do since he did not speak the language. So he started gesturing at them that he was the son of the king. And he was ridiculed since how could such a great prince walk around in such tarnished clothes? And they’ve beaten him to a pulp by the time he reached the king’s court. And he gestured them [the king’s guards] that he was the child of the king and they did not believe him at all. Until he started shout as loud as he could so his father would recognize his voice.
And when the king heard the shouts and the cries he said that these are the shouts of his son, and his love for his son engulfed him and let him into his house and hugged and kissed him. (Keter Shem Tov, 2008)
This story suggests yet another meaning to the voice made by Man and heard by God. We usually try to make our words as precise as possible. Yet, the sound of the Shofar carries no content; it is devoid of any words. This Tekiah is voicing nothing but the shout, without any complicated content. Its power lays in its very simplicity. In this sense, the Voice of the Shofar is like the shouts of the child who forgot his father’s language. When he expresses himself he uses no words, and only his father understands the sounds enabling him to find his lost child. The strength of the Tekiah is in its primal voice, the one that comes before any word is spoken.
There are two paths to Teshuva. The first is focused on improving our ways, “Behinat” “better your ways and the covenant would not be broken”. This kind of Teshuva focuses on the past and its amendment. A second path is based on the proposition of starting anew; forgetting everything and turning a new page, not occupied with what was, but rather on what is. A Teshuva of renewal.
Each path of Teshuva has its own Ba’al Tokeah. The Shofar’s voice when the path of Teshuva is focused on improving our ways is the voice of God calling us to better ourselves: “amend your ways and your doings”. A Teshuva centered on rejuvenation begins with the cry of Man to his father: “the Ba’al Shem Tov said once that the meaning (עניינו) of the Shofar is like a child calling his father – save me”. We are staring anew, from a primal stage where words have not come into play yet – מבראשית.
Considering the complicated reality in which we live, it seems that both of these paths are the key for us living between the modern and post-modern. On the one hand we try to understand the world and humanity, and we believe that we can succeed. On the other hand, matters of the heart are often secretive and the more we try to understand the more vague it gets. In these times we need both kinds of “Tekiah”: that of Child’s cry for his father, a naïve voice without any sophistication; and that which is top-down, expecting obedience and repentance. The space in which the two kinds of the “Tekiah” converge – the simple and primitive alongside with the awesome and intimidating – where the sounds of the Shofar that goes bottom up and top down together – is the space for our own contemporary “Hilchot Teshuva”.
