The Israel
Koschitzky Virtual Beit Midrash
Surf A Little Torah
Yeshivat Har Etzion
ROSH HASHANA 5767
By Rav David Silverberg
The first Mishna of the fourth chapter of Masekhet Rosh Hashanah (29b)
establishes the halakha that, generally speaking, the shofar is
not sounded on Rosh Hashanah when it falls on Shabbat. During the times of the Mikdash,
the shofar would be sounded in the Beit Ha-mikdash (and, according
to the Rambam, throughout the city of
The ensuing discussion in the Gemara records a famous exchange concerning the origins of the basic halakha suspending the mitzva of shofar when Rosh Hashanah falls on Shabbat. The first view attributed this provision to a discrepancy between the two Biblical references to this obligation. In Sefer Vayikra (23:24), the Torah speaks of Rosh Hashanah as a day of zikhron teru'a, or the "mentioning" of the shofar sound, whereas in Sefer Bamidbar (29:1), this festival is referred to as yom teru'a, a day of sounding the shofar. The Gemara tries reconciling these two verses by distinguishing between Shabbat and weekdays. When Rosh Hashanah falls on a weekday, it is observed as a yom teru'a, a day of sounding the shofar. On Shabbat, we merely "mention" the shofar, we speak in our prayers about the themes associated with the shofar, but we do not actually blow the shofar.
Rava, however, dismisses this theory, raising two objections. For one thing, if the Torah itself
suspended the sounding of the shofar on Shabbat, then this suspension should
apply in the Mikdash, as well, and yet the Mishna stated clearly
that the shofar was sounded in the
As noted by many writers, the Talmud Yerushalmi presents a parallel discussion and appears to accept the initial theory advanced by the Talmud Bavli, that the Torah itself legislated that the shofar not be sounded when Rosh Hashanah falls on Shabbat. The Yerushalmi addresses the first question raised by Rava, who asked why there would be a distinction between the Mikdash and other areas if the Torah itself forbade shofar blowing on Shabbat. It responds by citing a comment by Rabbi Shimon Bar Yochai, who took note of the juxtaposition in the Torah between the obligation of shofar blowing and the offering of the musaf offering on Rosh Hashanah (see Bamidbar 29:1-2). Rabbi Shimon explained this juxtaposition as pointing to a unique status afforded to the Beit Ha-mikdash – the site of sacrificial offerings – with respect to shofar blowing, which is manifest in the application of this mitzva even on Shabbat, when it does not apply elsewhere. Thus, according to the Yerushalmi, the Torah itself banned shofar blowing on Shabbat, and the same Torah allowed sounding the shofar on Shabbat in the Beit Ha-mikdash, where this mitzva assumes a higher stature of sorts.
According to the conclusion of the Bavli, that Torah law allows and in fact requires sounding the shofar even when Rosh Hashanah falls on Shabbat, the question arises as to how we might reconcile the conflicting verses of yom teru'a and zikhron teru'a. If, as Rava concludes, before Chazal's decree Rosh Hashanah was observed as a yom teru'a regardless of the day of week on which it fell, then why in Sefer Vayikra does the Torah refer to this festival with the term zikhron teru'a? This question was raised by Rav Baruch Halevi Epstein (author of the Torah Temima), in his work Barukh She-amar (p. 23).
A most surprising answer to this question was suggested by one of the lesser known Rishonim, the Shibolei Ha-leket (294). He claims that even according to the conclusion of the Talmud Bavli, that shofar blowing is suspended out of concern that one may carry it through a public domain, this halakha applies on the level of Torah law. When the Torah speaks of Rosh Hashanah as a zikhron teru'a, it indeed refers to Shabbat and forbids blowing shofar on Shabbat due to the possibility of Shabbat violation. According to the Shibolei Ha-leket's approach, this halakha presents us with a rare example of a gezeira min ha-Torah, a law enacted by the Torah to safeguard against a violation of another Torah law. Generally speaking, it was Chazal who enacted laws to help ensure strict observance of the Torah's prohibitions. In this instance, according to the Shibolei Ha-leket, the Torah itself banned shofar blowing on Shabbat to safeguard against Shabbat violations.
Of course, this is not the view of Rava, whom the Gemara cites as explicitly relegating this halakha to the level of rabbinic enactment. Nevertheless, the Shibolei Ha-leket understood that in conclusion the Bavli accepts the view of the Yerushalmi, that the Torah itself suspends shofar blowing on Shabbat, and the expressions yom teru'a and zikhron teru'a indeed refer to the different situations where shofar blowing is or is not warranted on Rosh Hashanah.
Needless to say, the Shibolei Ha-leket's view does not represent the mainstream approach towards this halakha, and it is commonly accepted that it was Chazal who suspended the sounding of the shofar when Rosh Hashanah occurs on Shabbat.
******
Yesterday, we discussed the Gemara's famous comments in the fourth chapter of Masekhet Rosh Hashanah (29b) concerning the two expressions used in the Torah in reference to the mitzva of shofar blowing on Rosh Hashanah – yom teru'a (Bamidbar 29:1) and zikhron teru'a (Vayikra 23:24). The Gemara initially suggests that these expressions refer to two different scenarios: yom teru'a requires sounding the shofar when Rosh Hashanah falls on a weekday, and zikhron teru'a refers to the obligation to speak about the shofar, but not actually sound the shofar, when Rosh Hashanah falls on Shabbat. The Gemara (as understood by most commentators; yesterday we noted one exception) ultimately rejects this theory, and concludes that shofar blowing is suspended on Shabbat as a safeguard against Shabbat violation, and not due to this textual nuance. This conclusion left us with the question of how to reconcile the two different references to the obligation of shofar blowing.
One explanation, as developed by the Netziv in his Ha'amek Davar
(to Vayikra 23:24), appears to emerge from the Gemara's discussion earlier in
Masekhet Rosh Hashanah (28a). The
Gemara cited a comment from one of the early Amora'im that if a person
was force-fed matza on Pesach, he has fulfilled his obligation to partake
of matza. Even though he had
no intention to fulfill the mitzva, the ingestion of matza that
occurred suffices to render him in fulfillment of this mitzva, because,
according to this view, fulfilling a mitzva does not require intent
(mitzvot einan tzerikhot kavana).
Rava comments that in light of this halakha, we must similarly
conclude that a tokei'a le-shir – a person who sounds the shofar
on Rosh Hashanah as a musical instrument – fulfills his obligation of
shofar blowing, despite the obvious absence of mitzva intent.
In response to Rava's remark, the Gemara questions why it was necessary
for him to explicitly state this extension of the aforementioned halakha concerning the forced consumption of
matza. Once it has been established that one
can fulfill a mitzva even without intent, Rava should not have found it
necessary to specify the application of this rule to the situation of tokei'a
le-shir. The Gemara explains,
"One might have thought that in that case, the Torah said, 'Eat matza,'
and he eat matza; but here, it says, 'Zikhron teru'a,' and this
[person] is simply by chance [sounding the shofar]." Rava made his remark because
instinctively, one might not have extended this general rule – that
mitzva fulfillment does not depend on a person's intent – to the
mitzva of shofar. The
concept of zikhron teru'a requires reflecting upon the message of the
shofar, and not merely sounding the shofar, and therefore
intuitively, we would have concluded that the satisfactory fulfillment of this
mitzva demands conscious intent. (As the Netziv notes, Rashi presents a
different understanding of the Gemara, which likely resulted from a different
text in his edition of the Gemara.)
Interestingly enough, it was the same Rava who, in the fourth chapter of Rosh Hashanah, dismissed the notion that zikhron teru'a refers to the suspension of shofar blowing when Rosh Hashanah falls on Shabbat. He quite possibly followed consistently with his own view, expressed in the discussion concerning tokei'a le-shir, that zikhron teru'a establishes the additional obligation to reflect and speak about the themes of the shofar on Rosh Hashanah, even when it falls during the week.
Of course, the question remains as to why, according to Rava's
conclusion, one who sounds the shofar for purely musical purposes
fulfills his obligation. If, as the
Gemara comments, the Torah requires zikhron teru'a – reflecting about the
message conveyed through the shofar – then it would appear that one who
sounds the shofar without this awareness does not fulfill
this obligation. This question
requires more comprehensive treatment in a separate
context.
******
This week we have been discussing the Gemara's discussion in Masekhet Rosh Hashanah (29b) concerning the halakha suspending shofar blowing on Rosh Hashanah when it falls on Shabbat. Initially, the Gemara attributes this law to a discrepancy between the Torah's two references to Rosh Hashanah, as a yom teru'a (Bamidbar 29:1) – which suggests actually blowing the shofar – and a zikhron teru'a (Vayikra 23:24) – which implies that we must merely speak about the shofar. The Gemara suggests that yom teru'a refers to standard occurrences of Rosh Hashanah, whereas zikhron teru'a refers specifically to a year on which Rosh Hashanah falls on Shabbat. Ultimately, however, the Gemara dismisses this theory, and explains that it was Chazal who suspended shofar blowing on Shabbat out of concern for possible Shabbat desecration. The Talmud Yerushalmi, by contrast, appears to accept the theory that the shofar is not sounded on Shabbat due to the Torah's description of Rosh Hashanah in one place as a zikhron teru'a.
Some Acharonim raised a fairly simple question regarding this
theory, based on a basic understand of the respective contexts of these two
verses. The reference to Rosh
Hashanah as a zikhron teru'a appears in a section of Parashat Vayikra (in
Parashat Emor) that is commonly called parashat ha-mo'adim – the section
of the festivals. This section is
the fullest and most comprehensive presentation of the laws of the festivals, as
it introduces nearly all the basic obligations that apply on the various
occasions. The term yom
teru'a is found in Sefer Bamidbar (in Parashat Pinchas), where the Torah
addresses one detail concerning the festivals, namely, the musaf
offering. It seems difficult to
imagine that in the basic presentation of the festival laws, the Torah would
speak specifically of a case where Rosh Hashanah falls on Shabbat, addressing
the standard case only in the secondary context of the musaf
sacrifices. The question thus
arises, how could the Gemara consider interpreting the term zikhron teru'a in Sefer Vayrika as a reference to the
relatively rare occurrence of Shabbat Rosh Hashanah, when this context
constitutes the Torah's primary presentation of the festival
laws?
The simplest answer, perhaps, is that the Gemara never intended to read
the section in Parashat Emor as referring to a situation of Shabbat Rosh
Hashanah. Rather, the shift in
terminology from zikhron
teru'a to yom teru'a alludes to two different modes of
observance that apply in different situations, but this allusion does not
necessarily affect the context of the two verses.
However, Rav Baruch Epstein, in his Torah Temima (Vayikra 23:24), suggests a more creative
answer based on the Gemara's comment in Masekhet Shabbat (87b) that Benei Yisrael left Egypt on a Thursday. Now the Shulchan Arukh (O.C. 428:3) observes that Rosh Hashanah
will always occur on the same day of the week on which the third day of Pesach
had fallen six months earlier.
Thus, if the day of the Exodus – the 15th of Nissan, or the
first day of Pesach – was a Thursday, then Rosh Hashanah that year indeed fell
on Shabbat. It is thus only natural
that when speaking to that generation, Moshe would address specifically this
case, where Rosh Hashanah fell on Shabbat.
Rav Aharon Lewin, in his Ha-derash Ve-ha-iyun, notes that the Torah Temima's answer presumes that already in that generation new months were determined based on a fixed calculation, and not upon the sighting of the new moon. Had the onset of new months been determined based upon the testimony of witnesses to the sighting of the new moon, there is no guarantee that Rosh Hashanah would occur on the same day of the week as the third day of Pesach. The Shulchan Arukh's calculation applies only when the Jewish calendar runs according to the fixed system that was designed when it became no longer possible to declare months on the basis of the monthly sighting of the new moon. Apparently, Rav Lewin comments, the Torah Temima had in mind the view of Rabbenu Chananel (cited in – among other contexts – Rabbenu Bechayei's commentary to Parashat Bo), that during the period of travel in the wilderness Benei Yisrael determined new months based on the fixed calendar system, and not based on the sighting of the new moon. Rabbenu Chananel claimed that the covering of the ananei ha-kavod ("clouds of glory") made it impossible to view the sky, and hence Benei Yisrael had no choice but to arrange a fixed calendar rather than hear testimony to the sighting of the new moon each month.
Still, one might challenge the Torah Temima's theory on several
counts. For one thing, Moshe
clearly presented the festival laws in Sefer Vayikra for posterity, and not
merely for that generation, so the question remains why he would address
specifically a case where Rosh Hashanah fell on Shabbat. Furthermore, these laws were transmitted
to Moshe in the Mishkan, after its inauguration on Rosh Chodesh
Nissan, a full six months after the nation observed Rosh Hashanah on
Shabbat. Thus, even if we had
reason to believe that this presentation would focus on that generation's
particular observance, it should not have referred to the observance that had
already occurred six months earlier.
******
This week we have been discussing the theory raised by the Gemara in Masekhet Rosh Hashanah (29b) that the term zikhron teru'a, with which the Torah describes Rosh Hashanah in Sefer Vayikra (23:24), refers specifically to a case where Rosh Hashanah falls on Shabbat. In such a year, we merely make mention of (zikhron) the shofar, without actually sounding the shofar. The Gemara ultimately rejects this view, concluding that the suspension of shofar blowing on Shabbat originates not from the Torah itself, but rather from Rabbinic enactment. The Talmud Yerushalmi, however, as we have seen, accepts this interpretation of zikhron teru'a.
Some writers raised the question of how this theory would accommodate the
subsequent verse in Sefer Vayikra, which says regarding Rosh Hashanah, "Kol
melekhet avoda lo ta'asu" – forbidding on Rosh Hashanah the activities
forbidden on Yom Tov generally. If
the Torah speaks here specifically about a case where Rosh Hashanah occurs on
Shabbat, there is no need to issue a separate prohibition against performing
melekha on this day. What
more, the term melekhet avoda generally refers only to those activities
forbidden on Yom Tov, as oppose to the word melakha, which denotes the
full range of activities forbidden on Shabbat. (As we know, certain activities, such as
food preparation, are permissible on Yom Tov but forbidden on Shabbat.) Why, then, would the Torah forbid on
Shabbat Rosh Hashanah only melekhet avoda, and not
melakha?
The simplest answer would be – as discussed yesterday – that the Gemara did not actually suggest reading this section as referring to only this case, where Rosh Hashanah falls on Shabbat. Rather, it sees within the term zikhron teru'a a subtle allusion to an instance when the shofar is not actually sounded, and it deduces that this occurs on Shabbat.
A different answer was suggested by the editor of a memorial volume
entitled Zekher Shelomo (published in
Interestingly, as the editor notes, this issue is subject to a debate between Abayei and Rava, recorded in Masekhet Chulin (101b), concerning a certain ruling issued by Rabbi Yossi Ha-gelili. According to Abayei, Rabbi Yossi held that when Shabbat and Yom Tov coincide, only the Shabbat prohibitions apply. If a person performed melakha on such a day aware only of its status as Yom Tov, he would not – according to Abayei's reading of Rabbi Yossi – be liable to punishment. Rava disagreed, and held that both statuses take effect, and hence this violator would indeed be liable to punishment for violating Yom Tov. The answer suggested above to explain the prohibition of melekhet avoda in the context of Shabbat Rosh Hashanah obviously presumes Rava's position, that the Yom Tov prohibitions indeed take effect when Yom Tov falls on Shabbat. The Torah therefore found it necessary to specify a prohibition against performing melakhet avoda on Shabbat Rosh Hashanah independent of its status as Shabbat. According to Abayei, this prohibition would be meaningless, given that the Yom Tov prohibitions do not take effect when Yom Tov falls on Shabbat.
Now recall
from our discussions earlier this week that it was Rava who dismissed the notion
that the verse of zikhron teru'a refers specifically to Shabbat Rosh
Hashanah. He advanced two arguments
against the theory, primarily the claim that had the Torah itself suspended
shofar blowing on Shabbat, this suspension would apply even in the
Beit Ha-mikdash, and yet the Mishna rules that the shofar was
indeed sounded in the
******
We have been discussing the week the halakha that suspends the mitzva of sounding the shofar when Rosh Hashanah occurs on Shabbat. The Gemara in Masekhet Rosh Hashanah (29b) concludes that this provision originates not from the Torah itself, but rather from an enactment by Chazal who feared that a person might carry the shofar and thus violate the prohibition against carrying in a public domain on Shabbat. For this same reason, Chazal suspended the mitzva of arba minim (four species) when Sukkot falls on Shabbat, as well as Megila reading when Purim occurs on Shabbat.
Rashi, in his commentary to Masekhet Sukka (43a), raises the question of why the Gemara makes reference in this context only to the prohibition of ha'avara arba amot be-reshut ha-rabim – carrying four cubits in a public domain on Shabbat. The prohibition against carrying on Shabbat actually consists of two laws: one may not carry four cubits in a public domain, and one may not carry an item from a private domain to a public domain, or vice versa. The first prohibition is generally referred to as ha'avara, while the second prohibition, forbidding the transport of an item from one domain to another, is usually called hotza'a mei-reshut le-reshut (or just hotza'a). As Rashi notes, in all instances where the Gemara mentions the suspension of shofar, lulav or Megila on Shabbat, it makes reference only to ha'avara, and not to hotza'a.
Rashi answers that Chazal's primary concern was for a possible
violation of ha'avara, because, quite simply, hotza'a is less
frequent. He gives two explanations
for why ha'avara is more likely to occur than hotza'a.
Firstly, there are certain kinds of reshuyot (domains) that Halakha treats as neither a public nor a private
domain, and carrying an item from one of these areas into a public or private
domain thus does not constitute a Torah violation. (It would, however, still be forbidden
by force of Rabbinic enactment.)
Hence, if a person lifts an item from one of these areas and carries them
into and through a public domain, he transgresses the prohibition of
ha'avara – by virtue of his carrying in a public domain – but he
does not violate hotza'a, since he did not carry the item from a
private domain. Such a case, Rashi
writes, is relatively common, making the potential for ha'avara violations somewhat greater than that for
hotza'a.
Secondly, Rashi claims, one violates hotza'a only if he lifted the object in the private or public domain with the intent of carrying it into the other domain. If a person lifted an object in his home with the intention of carrying it to another room inside the home, and while holding it he decided to bring it outside, he does not transgress the violation of hotza'a. The akira ("uprooting") and the hanacha ("placement") must occur along the same continuum of intention for hotza'a to take place, and thus a person violates this prohibition only if he lifts the object intending to bring it to the other domain. This constitutes a significant restriction on the hotza'a prohibition, thus rendering it less common than ha'avara.
Tosefot cite Rashi's comments and take issue with the second reason he suggests for the relative infrequency of hotza'a. While it is true that hotza'a requires lifting the object with the intent to bring it to the other domain, this condition applies to ha'avara, as well. Namely, if a person lifts an item in a public domain with no intention to move it, and then, whole holding the object, he decides to walk with it four cubits or more, he has not transgressed ha'avara. Thus, according to Tosefot, this restriction on the violation of hotza'a is equally relevant to ha'avara, and therefore we cannot point to this provision as a contributing factor to the greater incidence of hotza'a.
As discussed by Rav David Mandelbaum in his Pardes Yosef He-chadash (Bamidbar 29:1), Rashi appeared to have distinguished between hotza'a and ha'avara in this regard, and maintained that one transgresses ha'avara even if he had not initially intended to carry the item. The basis for this distinction is the different sources for these prohibitions. Hotza'a is listed among the thirty-nine melakhot (categories of forbidden activity on Shabbat), all of which are modeled after the corresponding activities performed during the construction of the Mishkan. Ha'avara, by contrast, as the Gemara mentions in Masekhet Shabbat (96a), has come to us strictly through oral tradition (hilkheta gemiri la), and not through the standard system of the thirty-nine melakhot. Quite possibly, then, the two prohibitions operate on different conditions, and the initial intent that is indispensable for transgressing hotza'a is not necessary for ha'avara.
Tosefot, by contrast, insisted on total parity between hotza'a and ha'avara. They perhaps understood the oral tradition that established the ha'avara prohibition to mean that ha'avara is now to be included under the general category of "carrying" along with hotza'a, and thus the same guidelines that apply to hotza'a are binding with respect to ha'avara, as well.
******
This week we have been discussing the halakha introduced by the
Mishna in Masekhet Rosh Hashanah (29b) suspending the mitzva of
shofar blowing when Rosh Hashanah falls on Shabbat. The exception to this rule, the Mishna
establishes, is the grounds of the
The Gemara discusses what precisely constitutes a "Beit-Din" for purposes of this halakha, and from the commentaries and rulings of the Rishonim four different positions emerge:
1) Rashi (s.v. ela be-yavneh) held that the shofar is sounded on Shabbat only in the presence of a sanhedrin ketana, a 23-member court qualified to issue capital sentences.
2)
The Ritva cites a different ruling in the name of
Rashi, restricting the Shabbat shofar blowing to the presence of the
actual Sanhedrin, even after it moved out of
3)
The Rambam views this halakha more flexibly,
allowing the sounding of the shofar on Shabbat wherever an established
Beit-Din convenes, even if it consists of only three members, like contemporary
Batei-Din. The Rambam does insist,
however, that these three members are musmakhim, meaning, that they have
received the formal ordination that was conferred from rabbi to student since
Moshe Rabbenu. Now this formal
semikha was discontinued during the period of the Roman oppression, but
the Rambam famously held (Hilkhot Sanhedrin 4:11) that it can be reinstated with
the unanimous consent of all the scholars living in Eretz Yisrael. Thus, at least in theory, it is possible
even today for the shofar to be sounded when Rosh Hashanah falls on
Shabbat.
4)
The most liberal interpretation of "Beit-Din,"
however, was that of the
******
The Gemara states in Masekhet Rosh Hashanah (16b), "Any year in which [the shofar] is not blown in the beginning – it will experience evil in the end." In other words, if the Jewish people fail to sound the shofar on Rosh Hashanah, at the outset of the year, they run the risk of suffering calamity, Heaven forbid, as the year progresses. Tosefot cite the Behag as commenting, "Not when it occurs on Shabbat, but rather when some oness [circumstance beyond one's control] arises." According to the Behag, this warning does not apply on a year when we do not sound the shofar because Rosh Hashanah falls on Shabbat; it refers to all other causes for not sounding the shofar.
The Meshekh Chokhma (Vayikra 23:24) discusses this passage, as
explained by the Behag, and its implications concerning the mitzva
of shofar and the suspension of this mitzva when Rosh Hashanah
falls on Shabbat. It emerges from
this Gemara that shofar blowing constitutes not only a mitzva, a
commandment of a God, but also an intrinsically beneficial "tool." A fundamental principle in
Halakha establishes that oness Rachamana patrei – the Torah
absolves a person from guilt and accountability if he fails to perform a given
mitzva due to circumstances entirely beyond his control. According to the Behag, however,
Chazal warned of the consequences of failure to sound the shofar on Rosh Hashanah even in situations of
oness, where it was practically unfeasible. Apparently, the Meshekh
Chokhma reasons, the value of shofar blowing extends beyond
its being a commandment of God, in that it brings our collective merit before
the Almighty as we stand before Him in judgment. The Meshekh Chokhma goes so far
as to draw an analogy to an ill patient who, due to circumstances beyond his
control, could not obtain the required drugs. Of course, the patient will not be
cured; regardless of why he could not obtain the medication, its absence results
in the continued effects of his illness.
Similarly, the Meshekh
Chokhma asserts, one forfeits the
benefits of teki'at
shofar regardless of the reasons
why he could not perform this mitzva.
Other mitzvot are beneficial only insofar as they are
divine commands, and therefore if a person had no practical means of fulfilling
the mitzva, he does not face any negative
consequences. When it comes to
shofar, by contrast, the effects are lost even in
situations of oness.
This theory gives rise to the obvious question of why the situation of
Shabbat Rosh Hashanah should be any different. According to the Meshekh Chokhma's understanding of the intrinsic benefits
of shofar blowing, it would
seem that these benefits are forfeited even when Halakha itself bars a person from sounding the
shofar.
The Meshekh Chokhma answers that refraining from shofar blowing on Shabbat Rosh Hashanah actually yields the same effect as sounding the shofar on a regular year. The sounding of the shofar serves to invoke Benei Yisrael's merit stemming from the akeida, the event symbolized by the shofar. Like Avraham and Yitzchak, Jews throughout the centuries have shown their willingness to sacrifice everything, to forego on all their personal concerns and desires, for the sake of fulfilling God's word. Our sounding of the shofar brings the merit of this commitment and sacrifice before the Almighty and earns us atonement. When Rosh Hashanah falls on Shabbat, we forego on this invaluable resource out of concern for a possible violation of Shabbat. We are prepared to sacrifice this incomparable asset for the sake of God's honor, to preserve the sanctity of Shabbat. This, itself, the Meshekh Chokhma writes, is "an extraordinary spiritual akeida and is effective in earning us atonement, just as the remembrance of the shofar atones." Thus, by refraining from sounding the shofar, we display our willingness to sacrifice for God, and thereby we earn God's favor just as we would by actually sounding the shofar.
******
Yesterday, we cited the Gemara's warning in Masekhet Rosh Hashanah (16b) that evil may befall the Jewish people during the year if they fail to sound the shofar on Rosh Hashanah: "Any year in which [the shofar] is not blown in the beginning – it will experience evil in the end." We presented the approach taken by the Meshekh Chokhma, who understood this comment as a reference to the intrinsic power of shofar blowing in bringing our merit before God on our day of judgment. This power is lost if we do not sound the shofar, even if this resulted from circumstances beyond our control.
A somewhat different explanation is offered by the Rashash in his commentary to Masekhet Rosh Hashanah. The Rashash suggested that if we do not sound the shofar on Rosh Hashanah, the Almighty will, Heaven forbid, bring upon us a crisis that requires the observance of a ta'anit tzibur, a public fast, which includes the sounding of the shofar (see Mishnayot, second chapter of Masekhet Ta'anit). Thus, if we fail to blow the shofar in the beginning of the year, God sees to it that we will be forced to do so under less favorable circumstances, in response to crisis and calamity.
We might further develop this approach in light of the Rambam's famous comments in Hilkhot Teshuva (3:4) concerning the purpose and symbolism of the shofar. The blast of the shofar, the Rambam writes, is intended as a "wake-up call," to awaken us from our preoccupation with the havlei ha-zeman (the vanities of the world). The natural human tendency is to become focused upon and drawn after the physical and material pleasures of life, which gradually leads to neglect of one's religious duties. On Rosh Hashanah we are awakened from this spiritual slumber through the sounding of the shofar. It reminds us of the higher purpose for which we were created and the need to redirect our focus and energies towards the service of God.
The Rashash is perhaps teaching that if we do not hear the "wake-up call" of the shofar, then God must resort to a different means of "awakening." Periods of crisis and hardship also have the effect of "awakening" a person from his spiritual slumber, reminding him of his vulnerability, his dependence on God for his very survival, and his unworthiness of God's protection and blessing. If we are not awakened by the shofar as the year begins, if we do not shake ourselves free from the shackles of our mundane routine and natural preoccupation with vanity, then, Heaven forbid, we will find ourselves being awakened by the sounding of the shofar on a public fast, in a situation of crisis and hardship.
By heeding the shofar's call to teshuva as the year begins, we help ensure that no other "wake-up call" will be necessary throughout the rest of the year.
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The Gemara in Masekhet Rosh Hashanah (33b) discusses a debate among the Tanna'im regarding which shofar sound to which the Torah refers with the term teru'a. Abayei establishes that both views are based upon Onkelos' Aramaic translation of the word – "yabava." This word appears in verb form much later in Tanakh, in Shirat Devora – the song of triumph sung by Devora after Benei Yisrael's victory over the Canaanite armies of Yavin and Sisera. Devora employs the verb y.b.v. in describing Sisera's mother's cries as she waited in vain for her son's return from battle: "va-teyabev eim Sisera" (Shoftim 5:28). By extension, then, the word teru'a refers to a sound produced by a person crying, and the Tanna'im debate how precisely this crying is meant to sound.
A number of early sources cite a passage from the Talmud Yerushalmi whereby the crying of Sisera's mother forms the basis of another practice concerning shofar blowing – the one hundred blasts that we sound over the course of the service on Rosh Hashanah. The Arukh, Rabbenu Chananel (end of Masekhet Rosh Hashanah) and Sefer Ha-pardes all cite the Yerushalmi as attributing this practice to "the one hundred wailing sounds wailed by Sisera's mother." We sound one hundred shofar blasts to commemorate the one hundred cries of Sisera's mother as she awaited her son's return from battle, unaware that he had been killed.
Rav Menachem Kasher, in his Torah Sheleima (Bereishit, chapter 23,
note 17), notes the obvious difficulty in this comment ascribed to the
Yerushalmi, that we seek to commemorate the cries of Sisera's mother. The Bavli enlisted the verse from
Shirat Devora merely for the purpose of defining the word yabava
with which Onkelos translated the term teru'a; it did not point to any
conceptual association between Sisera's mother and our sounding of the
shofar. The Yerushalmi,
however, as cited by these Rishonim, considers this woman's cries worthy of
honorable mention, of sorts, during shofar blowing on Rosh Hashanah, something which
is very difficult to understand.
Rav Kasher boldly suggests revising the text of this passage, changing
the words eim Sisera – "Sisera's mother" – to imenu Sara – "our matriarch, Sara." As Rav Kasher cites, numerous Midrashic
sources tell of Sara's cries as the Satan falsely reported to her that Avraham
had slaughtered her son as a sacrifice on
It thus stands to reason, Rav Kasher argues, that the Yerushalmi cited by the aforementioned Rishonim viewed the one hundred shofar sounds as a commemoration not of eim Sisera, but rather of imenu Sara. The akeida is, of course, one of the primary themes of the shofar, and it therefore seems far more likely that Chazal ordained that we bring to mind this event, rather than the cries of Sisera's mother.
On this basis, Rav Kasher suggests a novel explanation of a perplexing remark earlier in Masekhet Rosh Hashanah (16b), that we sound two series of shofar blasts (before and during musaf) in order to "confound the Satan." This might mean that the additional shofar sounds discredit the Satan by bringing to mind Sara's death which resulted from his false report of Yitzchak's death. It is as though we beseech God to ignore the Satan's prosecution because he is responsible for the death of our great matriarch Sara.
The term "Satan," of course, is often interpreted as an allegorical
reference to our yetzer ha-ra, man's evil inclination and sinful
tendencies, the many obstacles a person confronts in his quest for spiritual
perfection. Sara's death upon
hearing an inaccurate report about the akeida posed yet another challenge, another test
of faith, to Avraham, whose "Satan" sought to make him regret his blind
obedience to God, which led directly to his wife's death. On Rosh Hashanah, when the results of
our "Satan" – our yetzer
ha-ra – come before God and call
for a harsh decree against us, we bring to mind this incident as if to show the
Almighty just how devious and unrelenting this "Satan" is. We appeal for compassion by showing how
vulnerable we are to the Satan's antics and ploys, and that our sincere desire
is to faithfully serve God, even if we are occasionally misled by our sinful
instincts.
(For more conventional explanations of the Gemara's comment regarding our
attempts to "confound the Satan," see the commentaries of Rashi, Tosefot and the
Ran to this Gemara.)