The Shofar’s Cry

As we walk through the streets during this time of year, a sound carries through the air.

You don’t have to be inside a shul to hear it. Passing by, you can catch those sharp

blasts of the shofar. It is sudden, raw, and almost startling. It doesn’t sound like music.

It’s not polished or sweet. It’s a cry. And somehow, whether we’re prepared for it or not,

it goes straight to the heart.

Chazal tell us the shofar is a wake-up call. The Rambam describes it as if the shofar is

calling out: “Awaken, you sleepers, from your sleep! Examine your deeds and return in

teshuva.” All year, we go about our lives busy, distracted, and half-asleep spiritually.

Then, all at once, the shofar cuts through the noise. It shakes us. It reminds us that life

isn’t meant to be lived on autopilot. We’re here for a purpose.

The sounds themselves tell a story. Tekiah - a clear, steady note, whole and unbroken.

Shevarim - the sighs of a broken heart, the recognition that we are not perfect and that

we fall short. Teruah - a cry of pain, the sobs of a soul yearning to come closer. And

again, tekiah, the returning to strength, clarity, and wholeness. This is the pattern of life:

moments of clarity, brokenness, and tears. But always, always the possibility of return.

We can draw strength from the shofar’s message. We all carry pressures, routines, or

feelings that weigh us down. The shofar says: wake up, notice, and return to who you

are. It tells us we don’t have to stay stuck in that fog. Just as the blasts move from

tekiah to shevarim to teruah and back again to tekiah, we, too, can move from clarity to

brokenness to tears, and still return to wholeness.

That’s why the shofar is both frightening and comforting. It stirs something raw inside of

us, but also gives us hope. Its cry is not only a reminder of where we fall short, but a

reminder that Hashem is close, waiting for us to turn back to Him. Even in our struggles,

the shofar is a promise: renewal is possible. Change is possible.

So as we carry the sound of the shofar from Rosh Hashana into Yom Kippur, let’s not let

it fade. Let’s pause, even for a moment, and let that cry awaken us to be more mindful,

more present, more connected, and more alive in our avodas Hashem, as we prepare

for Yom Kippur.

Yehi Ratzon that we all be zocheh to let the shofar’s cry enter our hearts, to return to

Hashem with sincerity, and to be sealed for a year of clarity, renewal, and positive

change.