The Voice of the Shofar: Calling All Past and Future Selves

Rosh Hashanah 5777/4 October 2016

We are playing a new game in our home this season. Our daughter, Zohar, is marching around with empty toilet paper and paper towel rolls, and when Annie or I ask her what she is doing, she says, “it’s a shofar!” “What sound does it make?” we ask, and she says, “tekiyah!” *toooo!* and blows her cardboard “shofar.” It’s great to see how much Zohar is learning here at BZBI’s playschool, and it gives us naches to see her joy as she takes part in celebrating the Jewish holidays. For our toddler, everything is new. She is encountering the world around her with a sense of wonder that is contagious. Catching glimpses of the world through her eyes, we are amazed.

We’ll read shortly in Mussaf that, “this day marks the beginning of Your creation, a reminder of the very first day.”^[1] On this holiday, we go back to the beginning. The world has just come into being. The first human beings are taking in all the wonders of Creation- the flowing streams, flowers in vivid colors, animals of all sizes, and an endless bounty of vegetables and grains and fruit; all of the garden is there for their pleasure. All, except for one lone tree that is off limits. We know how the story goes: Tempted, Adam and Eve eat from the forbidden tree and everything changes. Though their eyes are now open, they lose sight of themselves. Overwhelmed with shame, they cover their bodies in fig leaves, and they hide among the trees in fear.

In this moment our ancestors experience for the first time estrangement from themselves. Created only hours earlier in the image of God, with a soul animated by the breath of the Divine, Adam and Eve have already lost touch with their inner voice, enough to be swayed by the serpent. Where they had once stood before God and each other unadorned and radiant, unabashedly bare, without need for barriers or affectations, they are now alienated from themselves, consumed by self-loathing and self-judgment. And so, God calls out to them, אַיֶּכָּה? (Ayekah) “Where are you?” Chavah, Adam– Don’t forget who you are! No matter how wayward your actions, you are beloved. You need never hide from Me. You need never hide from yourselves.^[2]

On Rosh Hashanah, as we celebrate the world’s creation and renewal, and the birth of humanity, we find comfort and courage in the potential for radical renewal that is woven into the fabric of Creation. We come from the first humans who walked with God in the Garden of Eden, who lost themselves, and who heard the divine call of Akeyah? Where are you?  

We call this day Yom Hazikaron, the Day of Remembrance. Today we bring to God’s awareness the memory of key moments in God’s relationship with Israel and all humanity, and we ask God to remember us for good. And on this day we rememberwho we are, where we have come from, and who we want to become.

This remembering is facilitated by our special instrument of memory, the shofar- the vehicle that, according to the Talmud, carries our memories before God.^[3] With the sounding of the shofar we acknowledge the divine spirit that animates all of Creation anew each day, and we become attuned to our souls- that part of ourselves that touches the infinite.

In the words of Maimonides, “the shofar exclaims: Wake up from your slumber! Examine your deeds and turn in repentance, remembering your Creator. You sleepers who forget the truth… Take a good look at yourselves, and beautify your ways.”^[4] How easily we forget our own deepest truths.

We spend so much of our lives caught up in reflexive and reactive patterns of behavior that may offer us a short-term sense of protection and gratification, but at the cost of disconnection from a larger sense of our being and of our fullest potential. Perhaps we allow ourselves to resort to anger to get our way, or become defensive to avoid feeling shame, or we over-consume to self-soothe.

The poet Rilke wrote, “we come of age as masks, our true face never speaks.”^[5] We are, so much of the time walking through the world wearing masks, playing out our carefully cultivated personas. We try to impress others or elicit particular responses from them, often without any awareness that we are doing so. But acting that way in the world is not a true expression of ourselves. We move through our day-to-day lives, like Adam and Eve, hiding in the garden. But, on this day we are called– powerfully and lovingly called- to remember our deepest truths, to let our true face speak. The shofar cries to us אַיֶּכָּה – Where are you?

The sound of the shofar reverberates with a range of emotion. It evokes the joy of the Jubilee celebration, the awe of the revelation at Mt. Sinai, the grandeur of a coronation, the shock and relief of Abraham stopped short of killing his son. Our Rabbis discuss one particular emotional tone struck by the shofar. To the rabbis of the Talmud, its broken calls are meant to sound like wails and groans, cries of pathos and hunger for connection.^[6] 

There is a story told by the Ba’al Shem Tov, the founder of the Chasidic movement, about a king and his son. The king wanted only the best for the prince, his beloved only child. In his youth, the prince was given every opportunity available in the kingdom for his development. Once the king had offered his son all that he could, he sent the young prince to travel to other lands to further enhance his worldly knowledge.

The prince set out, studying the people he encountered, their customs, languages and wisdom, and acquiring a taste for their delicacies. For years, he traveled from land to land, further and further abroad, until he had spent all his money. Slowly, he made his way back to his homeland.

After an arduous journey, the prince arrives at the palace gates, exhausted yet relieved. He is ready to go inside, but the guards do not recognize him. “Don’t you know who I am?” He tells the guards, “I am your prince!” But they do not understand him, for in his long time away, he his forgotten his mother-tongue. He tries in vain every way he can to communicate to the guards who he is. At first they laugh at him, then they beat him. In a moment of utter desperation, the prince cries out in anguish and grief. His piercing howl ringing through the palace until it reaches the window of the king himself. The king immediately recognizes the cry of his child and he runs down to the gates to reunite with his dear son.

Today we are reminded that, even when we can’t remember our true selves, The Holy One sees us; the Creator knows who we are and what we are capable of. In truth, though, we never forget. When the prince allows himself to let go and fully feel his longing for return, he is able to access a part of himself that has been hidden. The blasts of the shofar carry the voice of the Holy One calling to us, אַיֶּכָּה?And in those blasts we hear the voice of our own souls calling us from a place beyond words, to remember who we were before we ever learned to cover and to hide. Before we wandered far from home. The call of the shofar, like the cry of the shofar, is the audible expression of our awakened hearts yearning for us to pay attention with love, to pay attention and return to our true selves.

Today is the anniversary of the creation of the world; a day full of creative possibility. Though we don’t yet know what an evolved expression of our renewed selves will look like in the year ahead, we have the ability to discern the voice of our awakened hearts, of our future selves calling us with tenderness and longing, to express our fullest potential. The shofar amplifies our innate ability to discern where there we are blocks, to see where we are holding on to patterns of behavior, or refusing to forgive ourselves or others, in ways that are holding back our growth, keeping ourselves small, and causing ourselves to suffer.

When the Children of Israel were exiled for generations in Egypt, we had all but forgotten who we were. In Moshe’s first encounter with God in a burning bush, in the deserts of Midian, The Holy One instruct Moshe to tell Israelites that our cries have been heard. Moshe responds saying, “What do I do if I tell them that the God of their ancestors sent me and that’s not enough for them?  What if they ask me, ‘What is your name?’, What should I tell them?” The Holy One responds, “My name? Ehyeh asher eyheh. I am becoming that which I am becoming.”^[7] Like the ever-moving flames in the bush, God is saying, I am constantly coming into being and changing. So too are we who are created in the image of God constantly changing and becoming, while our inner essence remains the same. Today, we bring our attention back to that inner essence so that we may envision the selves that we are becoming.

A recent study in the journal Consciousness and Cognition explored the psychological and behavioral outcomes of envisioning one’s future self. The authors note that by imagining ourselves in the future and mentally simulating future outcomes we can lay the groundwork for future change.

“Whether one’s goal is to bake an apple pie, perform a clarinet solo, or interact effectively with a new colleague,” they wrote, “prior mental preparation serves as an important precursor to doing. Put simply, imagining oneself in the future is an indispensable psychological tool.”^[8] The call of the shofar invites us to do just that- to imagine our evolved future selves. Soon, we will rise together for the shofar service. Before we do so, we will take some time to prepare ourselves for this powerful mitzvah. I want to invite you to do an exercise with me that is a little different from what you may be used to on the High Holy Days here at BZBI. It involves a little time travel, but we don’t even have to leave our seats. Today we are going to encounter our future selves.

This exercise – this meditation practice – comes a talk of mindfulness teacher, Tara Brach.^[9] 

The language of “future self” might not be intuitive or the most helpful for everyone. Feel free to substitute it with other language, such as your awake loving heart or soul, your evolved self, your more fully realized self, or the self you wish to become. For many, you’ll find that it useful to work with the image of future self, even if it feels strange at first.

Finding a comfortable position in your seats. I invite you to close your eyes. Notice the feeling of your body supported by the pew and floor beneath you. Take some moments to relax more fully.  You might take a nice, long in-breath… and then a slow out breath. Notice what is feels like as you let go of tightness in your body.    …and then a nice full, deep in-breath again  … and then an outbreath. See if you can soften through the shoulders, the hands, the chest, the belly. Inhaling, a nice long in-breath again, filling your lungs… and then the out-breath, releasing, relaxing outward, letting go of what might not be necessary to hold on to. Letting go, letting go. …

Now letting your breathe resume its natural rhythm, imagine that you can journey forward in time, and you are encountering your future self. It might be five years in the future, or ten. It might be one year, or twenty, depending on how old you are, and how far forward you want to go. The key is to see an older, awake, evolved version of yourself.

See where this future self is living, let yourself see what they look like, and what the feeling of their presence is like. What’s the quality of that presence, the quality of the listening, the way the future self looks at you. The heart quality.

You might let your future self know something in your current life that feels difficult. It may be something to do with work, or relationships, or how you are with yourself. Ask for guidance. And just listen with an open heart, available. …

Before leaving, you might find out if there’s any message your future self wants you to leave with, that will serve you right here in the moment of your current life- on this day, in this new year.

Take a moment to sense the feeling, the vision, the wisdom, the heart of your future self filling you. Filling your cells, and the spaces between the cells, and your heart, and your mind. Sensing the light and the warmth of the possibility of remembering and connecting with this awakened self during daily life.

As you return to this current moment, sense what you’re carrying with you- the calling, and presence and aliveness of your evolved self right here and now at the start of this New Year.

At the naming ceremony for Zohar, Annie and I offered the following words of blessing for her, based on the episode of the Burning Bush, which was in the Torah portion on the week that Zohar was born:

Now almost two years later, we couldn’t have imagined the joy we would feel as our daughter found her voice calling out Tekiya! through an imaginary shofar. 

And today, I marvel, looking around this sanctuary, aware that each of us is on our own journey of becoming.

In a moment we’ll hear the shofar calling out to each one of us, “Ayeka?” Where are you? Who are you in this moment? How are you becoming?

In the crying of the shofar, may we feel the reverberations of our longings and of love fierce enough to crumble walls and soften any heart. May we wake up to the sparks of divinity within us and all beings. May we know that, no matter who we are and where we are, we are beloved.  

L’Shanah Tovah

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Tags: Meditation, Rosh Hashanah, Shofar