Over the years, I have had the merit to blow the Shofar for many thousands of people in all different places and settings. Sometimes it has been at a bedside in a hospital or in a senior or nursing home, sometimes it is for a huge crowd at services or Tashlich, and sometimes on a random street corner.
No matter where the Shofar blowing takes place, there is usually a powerful silence that the ambiance seems to contain, as the sounds of the Shofar pierce through the air and make their way to the ears, hearts and souls of the listeners. Many a time, I have seen the tears rolling down the cheeks of the listeners and sometimes, I have seen intense sobbing, as memories come back of long ago, of the parents home or synagogue, of a loved one, or of the year that past, or perhaps praying for a loved one going through a hard time.
It is a soft and simple sound from a small and unattractive horn, yet it tells the story of something deeper and more powerful, and of the calling that Rosh Hashanah inspires, that has been part of the continuum of our journey for so many centuries.
I can remember the time as a young teenager when I was going around blowing Shofar for elderly people in my neighborhood, when suddenly a car screeched to a halt next to me. Out of the car jumped two Israeli men who had spotted the Shofar in my hand, and asked me to blow the Shofar for them right there in the street. So there I stood on the sidewalk, with their car double parked and with these two guys who found some napkins to use as Yarmulkas, plus a healthy dose of onlookers. As I blew the sounds of the Shofar, I noticed how they closed their eyes and went on a short yet powerful spiritual journey. Two minutes later it was over, and we wished each other Shana Tova and we each went on our way.
Another time, I was visiting patients in a hospital in Caracas, and one of the patients I visited was very elderly and semi conscious, but I sang some Rosh Hashanah songs and noticed a small reaction, so I promptly blew the Shofar for her. Suddenly the phone in the room rang, and the nurse aide answered and then asked me to speak on the phone to the lady's son, who it turns out was a very respected surgeon, who had heard the sounds of the Shofar over the phone as he spoke to the aide. I told the nurse that I cannot speak on the phone on Rosh Hashanah, so he asked her to ask me to wait, and fifteen minutes later, he joined us and we ended up having an extensive conversation about Judaism and Rosh Hashanah, and of course he requested that I blow the Shofar in person. He had not been to a synagogue in decades, but that little Shofar sound he heard over the phone, stimulated a very deep part of his identity, and we ended up following up with several more meetings and discussions.
I can list dozens of similar stories that I have been a part of, some of them more dramatic than others, and some of them leaving me with new life long friends. Regardless of how powerful the impact seemed, they all have a common theme, and that is how the simple call of the Shofar touched a deeper place of authenticity and innocence that is at our core.
The Shofar's simple notes and sounds, touch a spark and ignite inspiration, and our job as the listeners, is to harness that sentiment, and use it as a call to action.
Today it is Rosh Chodesh Elul, the first day of the month of Elul, just one month before Rosh Hashanah. At the morning service today, we blew the Shofar for the very first time, as we warm up and utilize this month to jump start our soul calibration. I always found the very first blast to be the sound that begins to put my mind in the mental state of preparing for Rosh Hashanah.
We have the whole month of Elul ahead of us, it is a powerful month full of potential and blessings and opportunities calibrate and fine tune the nuances of who we are.
The journey has just begun.....
Wishing everyone a joyous and meaningful month & Chodesh Tov.
Shabbat Shalom & Good Shabbos
Yisroel