The Shofar of Rav Kook

[Below, Rav Kook speaks of sleeping in galus. On that theme, see this at Life in Israel, on kosher hot dogs at Seven Eleven in Monsey. The location "makes sense", the reporter says, for "Kosher Heaven". Oy.]

For me, Elul is timed fortuitously. My last Shabbos in the pulpit was Parshas Eikev, and every year, at this time, I feel the pain that came with leaving it. Three years later, I understand the benefits I now have and I am at peace with the move, but I still miss it... until, not long after Parshas Eikev, along comes Elul, and I remember what Elul meant in the rabbinate. And that makes the decision to leave it much easier.

In any case: A week from Monday night, I will present a "yahrtzeit shiur" in memory of Rav Kook, Gd-willing. [Yes, the yahrtzeit is this Monday night, the third of Elul, but the scheduling did not work out.] I'll be looking at a poem which has obvious Elul resonance, titled "Shofar". It was written in 1912/1913, soon after he made aliyah.

In the poem, he puts the return to Israel in terms associated with the ultimate Resurrection of the Dead, and he calls upon the reader to be moved by the visible effects of our exile and catalyze this redemption.

The poem is not particularly "poetic" in the original Hebrew; there is a rhyme, but only a simple meter with abbreviated lines and spare imagery. I think the focus was more about the message than the aesthetics. (Although with Rav Kook's writing, the aesthetics are never far behind.)

Here is the translation I have drafted, followed by the Hebrew. Footnotes to the English refer to the pesukim I believe were his sources for certain phrases:

Ascend to the top of the mountain
and take up the great shofar,¹
and lift your eyes and see
the suffering of the lowly nation.

And blow the great shofar,
tekiah, teruah, shevarim,
and pound with your foot,²
and so the graves will quake.

And these sounds will ascend through passages,³
to the very roots of the souls,
and those who roll will be set into motion
to build up the ruins.

And those who sleep will be roused,
the descendants of the lions,
who play in streams,
and wander in sprinklings.⁴

And those who sleep will awake
from the slumber of the exile,
and those who stray will be roused,
those of uncircumcised ear.⁵

And they will rise and ascend to the land
in which their forebears did reign,
and they will put an end, an abrupt halt,
to the exile in which they had been dispersed.

אֶל ראשׁ הָהָר עַלֵה
וְֹשוֹפָר גָדוֹל קַח
וְשָׂא עֵינֶיךָ וּרְאֵה
עֶנוּת הָעָם הַדָךְ

ובַֹשוֹפָר הַגָדוֹל תְּקַע
תְּקִיעָה תְּרוּעָה וּשְׁבָרִים
וּבְרַגְלְךָ רְקַע
וְיִרְעַֹשוּ הַקְבָרִים

וְהַקוֹלוֹת יַעַלוּ בְּלוּלִים
עַד שָׁרְֹשֵי הַנְֹשָמוֹת
וְיִתְגַלְגְלוּ הַגִילְגוּלִים
לִבְנוֹת אֶת הַֹשְמָמוֹת

וְיִתְעוֹרְרוּ הַנִרְדָמִים
נִינֵי הָאַרָיוֹת
הַמְשַׂחַקִים בִּזְרָמִים
וְֹשוֹגִים בַּהַזָיוֹת

וְיָקִיצוּ הַיְֹשֵנִים
בְּתַרְדֵמַת הַגוֹלָה
וְיֵעוֹרוּ הַזוֹנִים
בַּעַלֵי הָאוֹזֶן הָעַרֵלָה

וְיָקוּמוּ וְיַעַלוּ לָאָרֶץ
שֶׁהוֹרִים בְּקִרְבָּה מָלָכוּ
וְיָשִׂימוּ קֵץ וְקֶרֶץ
לַגָלוּת שֶׁבָּה הוּדָחוּ

[1] This is likely Yeshayah 18:3, but note Shoftim 3:27.
[2] Yechezkel 6:11
[3] Melachim I 6:8
[4] This is an important verse; he uses Hebrew terms which can refer to streams and sprinklings, but can also refer to ideological streams and errors. Rav Kook is referring to Jews who have naively strayed.
[5] Yirmiyah 6:10

Solutions for "scattered soul" syndrome (Derashah, Rosh HaShanah 5772)

I'm speaking at a minyan on the second day of Rosh HaShanah, before shofar; here's what I plan to say. Critiques very welcome. My derashah owes a lot to Dr. David Pelcovitz of Yeshiva University, and the comments he offered on the below-cited Yerushalmi and Chovos haLevavos during a visit to our Beit Midrash. Sources are listed at the end.

"When I stand in Shemoneh Esreih, I count birds," said one.
"I count the bricks in the wall!" said another
"I'm grateful for my head, because when I arrive at Modim it bows on its own", even if I'm not thinking about the words! said a third.
No, these weren't answers to a shul poll – all of these lines came from amoraim, sages of the gemara, in a Yerushalmi.
Some chachamim have offered alternative, less indicting ways to read this gemara, but as Tosafos said, the bottom line is that even our greatest sages had trouble concentrating.


Personally, I don't count birds or bricks. I count my kollel families and their needs. I think about my kids –not necessarily in a davening-for-their-welfare way. Shiurim. Problems. Disagreements. Jobs. And so on.

The gemara says אין אדם ניצול בכל יום, no one escapes distraction during davening, every single day. The distraction may start with something worthy, like Torah, but before you know it we're in the land of birds and bricks.


This problem of distraction has a source, named by Rabbeinu Bahya ibn Paquda in Chovos haLevavos 950 years ago. It's פיזור הנפש (pizur hanefesh), scattering of the soul. Rabbeinu Bahya quoted an anonymous elder's daily prayer, "המקום יצילני מפיזור הנפש," Gd save me from a scattered soul.

We scatter our souls when we embed pieces of ourselves in a million worthy causes, in work and spouses and colleagues and learning and kids and parents and cousins and friends and vacations and organizations and sports and hobbies and investments - this is פיזור הנפש. Many of these are important – but collectively, they leave us drained and empty.

Henry David Thoreau saw the problem in the 19th century; his solution, as he wrote to Emerson, was, "Simplify, simplify, simplify!" [To which Emerson replied, "I think one 'simplify' would have sufficed."]

Think of Harry Potter and Lord Voldemort's horcruxes, pieces of his soul embedded in objects that had some significance to him, to the point that he drained his humanity.

Contrary to the counsel of many psychologists, today's multi-tasking didn't invent the problem; it's just made our פיזור הנפש worse, and we need a way out.


When I first thought about speaking about this issue on Rosh haShanah, I worried it was too pedestrian compared to more momentous themes like the Day of Judgment, Israel and the UN, and the Leafs' playoff chances. But I believe this is up there with the most important of our concerns, because פיזור הנפש is not a narrow issue; פיזור הנפש drags down every aspect of our lives.

It kills relationships. Do you know that voice someone gets when he's talking to you but he's also scrolling through his email? The longer-than-expected pauses, the repeating of the last words you said while his conscious mind catches up with his subconscious? It's not just when we're checking email, either; we hold too many goals in our minds.

More - פיזור הנפש means we have trouble sticking with projects and fulfilling commitments.

And פיזור הנפש fuels stress levels, with pressure from deadlines and concerns in too many diverse areas.

פיזור הנפש invades and undermines our spiritual, social and personal existence; it demands a voice on Rosh haShanah, when we chart our path for the year.


Fortunately, Rosh haShanah also offers antidotes for פיזור הנפש: By reviewing three different roles of the shofar, we can learn three ways to treat our distraction.


First: The historical shofar, with its overpowering blast. The shofar of Jewish history is an overwhelming, ever-intensifying, limitless assault which brooks no disruption. From the start of our Jewish national existence at Sinai, to the end of history with the arrival of Mashiach, the shofar's voice resounds, a קול שופר חזק מאד ויחרד כל העם אשר במחנה. This historical shofar crushes outside noise – specifically, the distractions and ambitions that drain our focus.

This means emulating Thoreau by simplifying our lives:

• Figuring out which involvements have become more of a drain than they are worth, and which ones we need to cut even though they are very worthy.

• Turning off our phones and external distractions whenever we need to focus.

• And here's an experiment which may sound a little odd, but it has worked for me: During davening on a weekday, or during telephone calls, or while learning with a chavrusa, keep a piece of paper and pencil nearby. As extraneous topics come to mind, jot them down - not during Shemoneh Esreih, of course. This will tell us what is occupying our minds. This will be the list of our horcruxes, the domains which hold hostage fragments of our souls, and it should give us some idea of what we need to drown out with our historical shofar.

Simplifying our lives is instrumental in reclaiming them.


And second: The halachic shofar, with its status as a mitzvas aseh, an action performed to fulfill the expectations of our Divine Creator. A mitzvah demands כוונה, it demands focus. The sages of the mishnah offered us simple advice for developing that focus: Stop and think before the mitzvah. Ask: "What am I about to do?"

About fifteen years ago, I had the opportunity to hear lectures by Rabbi Maurice Lamm – author of "The Jewish Way in Death and Mourning" – on visiting the sick and grieving. For me, his greatest recommendation was actually the same advice from that mishnah: Before you enter the hospital room, before you enter the shivah house, stop and ask, "What am I going to say?"

Think of the הנני מוכן ומזומן or לשם יחוד that some of us say before mitzvos or before berachos - it's that concept, expanded.

This is a step toward establishing dominance over our lives: Before any activity, the halachic shofar asks, "What am I about to do? What is my kavvanah?"


And third: The prophetic shofar, invoked by Hosheia and Amos and Yoel and other neviim, is a siren.

• As the Rambam put it, עורו ישנים משנתכם והקיצו נרדמים מתרדמתכם, the shofar cries, "Wake up!"

• The Meiri added, "שכל שומע קול שופר הוא נזהר ומתבונן שאין תקיעתו בלא סבה," "Anyone who hears the sound of the shofar is moved to contemplation, for the shofar's blast is never without purpose."

The prophetic shofar is an alarm, calling us to cut our distractions and to concentrate before we act. But this prophetic shofar is insufficient; it's just one alarm clock, once a year, and thinking about distractions once a year will achieve nothing. If we are to eliminate our life-eroding distractions and restore our selves to ourselves, we will need such shofar reminders all through the year:

• A note for a particular day in our on-line calendar, or in our pocket calendar for those who still use such things.

• A message we write to ourselves in our siddur, "Are you still focussed?" or "This part is important." I write all over my siddur.

The prophetic shofar shows that reminders can accomplish a great deal in gaining our attention.


Rav Shimshon Raphael Hirsch noted that Tehillim 81 links the Shofar of Rosh haShanah with the harp used in the Beit haMikdash on Succos. Rav Hirsch explained, "Only the shofar leads to the harp."

Succos is זמן שמחתנו, the time of our great joy and satisfaction – and in order to achieve those heights of rejoicing, we need to first use the Shofar to eliminate our פיזור הנפש, the dispersion of focus that keeps us from fulfilling our spiritual and personal potential.

• To channel the historic shofar by eliminating the distractions which claim pieces of our souls.

• To channel the halachic shofar by thinking and planning before we act.

• To channel the prophetic shofar by sounding the alarm regularly, all year.

If we want to keep our minds from the birds and the bricks, if we want to bow for Modim because we feel humility and not because our heads are on springs, if we want to avoid the stress and disconnection of fragmented lives, if we want to earn a כתיבה וחתימה טובה, let's learn from the shofar now, and so merit the joy of the harp in the future.

-
Notes:
1. The opening gemara is from Yerushalmi Berachos 2:4. There are variant explanations of אפרחייא there. The Pnei Moshe suggests these amoraim were distracted by thoughts of Torah. See, too, Rav Tzaddok in Pri Tzaddik to Vayyeshev, and Belzer thoughts at http://www.temanim.org/shtaygen/dvr_tora/70/2-8.pdf. The Tosafos I mentioned is found in two places - Rosh haShanah 16b and Bava Batra 164b.

2. Bava Batra 164b says the distractions in davening are daily. For a strong rebuke on the topic of distraction during mitzvos, see Rambam's Moreh haNevuchim 3:51.

3. The Chovos haLevavos actually talked about pizur hanefesh in terms of finances, and Rav Zev Wolf haLevi of Zhitomir, in his 18th century Or haMeir, expanded it to include the other goals and ambitions which we invest with pieces of our selves.

4. Shulchan Aruch Orach Chaim 589:8, Taz 589:3 rule that shofar requires kavvanah.

5. The advice of waiting before davening is in Mishnah Berachos 5:1.

6. The Rambam's description of the shofar as an alert is in Hilchos Teshuvah 3:4; the Meiri's comments are in Chibur haTeshuvah 2:3 ועל דעת ז"ל.

7. Rav Shimshon Raphael Hirsch's observation, part of a great essay, is printed in Collected Writings Vol II pg. 69.

The Relief of the Shofar

This was a first for me: When the shofar blew after davening on Wednesday morning, I felt a real wave of relief.

Yes, relief.

I normally put my tallis over my head before the shofar is blown, and wait to feel two changes: A humbling as I face judgment, and an increase in stress about that coming judgment. Today, the start of Elul, had the first of those two changes, but instead of stress, I felt relief.

Part of that relief was because I am no longer a shul rabbi. Elul's Shofar does not mean, "You are facing a gauntlet of three-day Yamim Tovim, you need to write 15 derashos, boy are you in trouble!" So a world of stress is gone from my shoulders.

And, Wednesday's shofar brought me relief because it is the starter's gun for real reform. I have spent weeks and months thinking about things I should be doing differently – but now the season has begun for implementing those changes. Think of it as "nesting" for the soul.

And a big part of it is that I welcome the arrival of these High Holy Days because they bring with them the world of honest emotion.

The intellectual pursuits of Torah study, teaching and debating, can be beautiful and inspiring, but they can also be depressingly empty. It is easy to be tempted into the superficial. It is easy to learn without the intensity required for long-term memory. It is easy to get caught up in making arguments to prove a pilpulish point, to explain an idea that is known to be incorrect, to determine that an author was consistent in his incorrect conception. It is easy to invest hours are in pursuing a reading that is not followed in practice, because it was the reading used by a particular scholar. It is easy to become involved in the pursuit of knowledge for all the wrong reasons - to demonstrate personal greatness, to defeat others.

In discussions of philosophy, unfounded doubts may be raised about fundamental elements of faith and unfounded assertions may be made in defense of those fundamental elements of faith. Theories are sometimes proposed even though their proponents themselves don't trust them, and archaic constructions explored even though the ideas involved have long since been discredited. I find that wearying.

Emotion, on the other hand, is honest and substantive and large to me, and real regardless of its stimuli and motivations. The crying of grief; the joy of a birth; the laughter and smiles of people enjoying each other's company; the love of a couple or of parents and children – to mangle a line attributed to Rav Chaim Brisker, "You can shlug up [refute] a dvar torah, but you can't shlug up the human heart." You can't shlug up humility, or tears, or commitment to improvement.

So Elul's shofar siren that summons us to self-analysis, to humility, to honesty, to regret, is welcome. Even though I know I will find myself short in many areas, I prefer that.

I want more than a Shofar blower

I was probably nine or ten years old when I demonstrated to our shul’s gabbai that I already knew how to blow shofar. I wanted to know about being eligible to blow shofar in our shul when I would become bar mitzvah; he kindly left the matter open-ended, perhaps trusting me to forget or change my mind between then and my thirteenth year. I don’t remember whether I forgot or became less capable of blowing or was discouraged by others, but I never pursued it.

I’m glad I didn’t pursue it; blowing shofar is more than just producing airflow and moving your tongue and lips into position. It’s about giving mussar [ethical rebuke] to the community.

Technically, of course, this is ludicrous. Shofar is a mechanical mitzvah, and if the tokeia (shofar blower) intends to perform the mitzvah and does it right, the mitzvah is the mitzvah and we can all mark that one off on our Rosh HaShanah “Things to Do” checklist. So what’s wrong with a synagogue that lets a kid blow shofar, or that lets all comers blow part of the blasts, first come, first serve?

My answer: Shofar is more than that. Shofar is, as even the legalist Rambam acknowledges, more than just a hoop through which we jump. Yes, we blow shofar because Gd told us to blow shofar (Rosh haShanah 16a). Nonetheless, the shofar is also a much-needed call to the sleepers to wake up (Mishneh Torah, Hilchot Teshuvah 3:4), and that role does not belong to a thirteen year old child. That role belongs to someone who can legitimately call upon others to rise from their spiritual slumber.

To me, shofar is a mussar shmooze. It’s a piercing blast, it’s a cry that shakes me loose from my moorings, it’s a keening wail, it’s a frightening siren, it’s even the voice of the Divine in unsubtle disguise demanding of me, “Ayekah!” Where have you been, and how did you get there? What is this arrogance I see in you? What is this casual attitude you take to berachos, to davening, to learning Torah, to talking to other people and looking after their needs? What have you done with all of that talent I vouchsafed to you? What have you done with the lives of your children, which I assigned to your care and for which you will be called to judgment? By what right do you call yourself by these grandiose titles – Rabbi, Father, Husband? Who do you think you are, Torczyner? [Yes, a Jew must know what he has achieved and must not belittle it. But we must also know what we have yet to achieve.]

Those demands cannot come in the voice of a child, trying on mitzvos he does not yet understand. Sure, any kid can blow a shofar – but I want my tokeia to be a baal mussar.