Rosh Hashanah: Empty Yourself Like the Shofar and Begin Again

There is one month in the Jewish calendar when we do not celebrate Rosh Chodesh, the beginning of a new month. This is the head of all the months — Rosh Hashanah. Within this sacred day lies the potential for every day of the coming year, God willing.

The Hebrew word chodesh (month) shares its root with chadash (new), reminding us that every new month carries the possibility of renewal and transformation.

Becoming Like the Shofar

A shofar is made from a ram's horn. Originally, it is full. Before it can become a shofar, it must first be hollowed out, and only then can it be filled with the sound of the blast.

When we blow the shofar, we fill it with our breath. The Holy One, blessed be He, empties the horn so that we can fill it with our breath, our awe, and our ability to hear His voice echoing throughout creation. Whoever hears God's words within the world hears the sound of the shofar.

The Hebrew word tekiah (the straight shofar blast) also means connection. As the verse says, "Jacob pitched (taka) his tent," meaning he established and connected it. The tekiah is a straight, unwavering sound that rises without distortion or deviation.

Hearing, too, is a form of connection. A Jew is called upon to listen ever more deeply, uncovering layer after layer of God's voice within our world. This is the great connection expressed in the declaration, "Hear, O Israel, the Lord is our God, the Lord is One." The inner hearing of every Jewish soul begins with listening to the majestic sound of the shofar.

Filling the Days With Meaning

Rosh Hashanah, the Ten Days of Repentance, Yom Kippur, Sukkot, Hoshana Rabbah, and Simchat Torah all invite us to fill every moment as one fills the shofar — with awe, heartfelt prayer, supplication, and closeness to God.

The holidays are approaching, and Rosh Hashanah is almost here. Within this single day lie all the possibilities of the coming year. It is a day to remain spiritually awake and fully present. Just as the head directs every limb of the body, so Rosh Hashanah influences every day that follows.

Where One Year Ends and Another Begins

The festivals return year after year. Another Rosh Hashanah. Another Sukkot. Another cycle. Yet within these circles of time, I find myself asking: How do we move forward when one season ends and another immediately begins?

Whenever the Torah scroll is rolled from the final words of V'Zot HaBerachah directly into Bereishit, I stand in amazement. Watching the parchment roll so quickly from ending to beginning has always left me speechless. Time touches time. An ending kisses a beginning. There is a fleeting instant when they meet.

So it is when a woman lights the festival candles. The month of Elul ends the very moment she recites the blessing. The silver matchbox rests in her hands, the house shines, and she is dressed in her finest clothing. Her heart trembles in anticipation. The candlesticks stand upright, polished and waiting to receive the light.

She takes a deep breath. She does not wipe away the tear forming in her eye, because before God there are no tears of despair — only sweet tears, even if they taste salty. Then her hand reaches forward. One candle. Then another. Imagine how many candles you will light in years to come. What a miracle. 

And just like that, Elul is over, and Rosh Hashana has arrived.

In a Single Instant

The same mystery exists beneath the wedding canopy. The moment a bride hears the words, "Behold, you are consecrated to me with this ring...", and the ring is placed upon her finger, she passes, in a fraction of a second, from being unmarried to being a wife.

That moment has always fascinated me more than any other part of the wedding. It is the instant when two halves of one soul reunite, the moment when heaven and earth meet.

I once attended the wedding of a precious bride who had waited fifteen years. The Jewish people have waited two thousand. Suddenly, the veil covered her face. Suddenly, everyone proclaimed, "Consecrated! Consecrated! Consecrated!" 

Suddenly.

Redemption Comes Unexpectedly

Our Sages teach that Mashiach will arrive when our minds are elsewhere, unexpectedly. One moment everything will seem ordinary, and the next, the world will be transformed.

At that wedding I sensed, if only for a moment, a glimpse of what the future redemption may feel like. My eyes filled with tears until I saw everything doubled — ending and beginning, completion and renewal. Like a dream that slips away, the rhythm of my heartbeat blended with the bells of my soul, drawing melodies from a hidden spring that has always existed within.

One shofar. One light. One sound.

The Gifts God Gives

Over the past thirty years I have come to understand the greatest gifts God has given me: my children.

When they were born, my home became a little nursery. Just as a baby completes its months in the womb and announces, through intense labor pains, that it is making its way into the world, so too every child arrives as a mystery. You do not know whom you are about to meet. But when those pure eyes look into yours for the very first time, Heaven grants you extraordinary strength to raise and nurture this precious gift.

A gift from God. A mother in Israel. What an everyday miracle.

God wants us to be good mothers. Joyful mothers. Grateful mothers. And that is exactly what we long to become.

On Rosh Hashanah we pass before Him, one by one, like a flock before its shepherd. Our holy Father looks upon us, sees what lies within us, and judges us. How comforting that is.

Whether as children, or servants, we are Yours, Father.