There’s a beautiful line, in a beautiful poem, in a beautiful prayer that we recite on Rosh Hashanah:
״שׁוֹפָר גָּדוֹל יִתָּקַע, וְקוֹל דְּמָמָה דַקָּה יִשָּׁמַע״ The supreme shofar will resound and the silent voice will make its sound
Beautiful, yes. But it makes no sense.
How can a sound be silent? A sound, by definition, is the opposite of silence.
And what is this mysterious connection between the Shofar and this silent sound?
How can the sounds of the shofar enable us to hear that which cannot be heard?
So while the line is indeed beautiful, it seems to also be nonsensical. If we are to make sense out of it, then we will need a deeper understanding of both silence and the shofar.
We’ll start with silence.
More than Noise
For most of us, silence means “no noise.” And indeed, sometimes this is true. The music is blasting, your child turns it off - ah, the joy of silence.
But cessation of sound is only one way to achieve silence. Another is when the sound is never allowed to develop in the first place. We have a word for that - censorship.
The microphone which is turned off.
The speaker who is never invited. The show which is cancelled.
Can we hear the music that no longer plays?
How about the person who was not yet spoken?
And then there is another type of censorship that is harder to pick up - self-censorship. The voice that is silenced not from the outside but from within. Out of fear, or shame, or the belief that no one truly wants to listen.
And what of the child who does not even know how to ask? His is a voice in potential, not yet formed, not yet uttered.
Can we hear the silence of the voice that refuses to speak?
Can we hear the silence of the voice that does not yet know how?
There is another kind of silence, a silence not of the words themselves, but of the meaning behind those words. Take, for example, the exclamation of “I don’t care” by someone who cares very much - but is in too much pain to admit it.
Or how about the silence of distraction. True, the words ring in our ears - and yet somehow or other we don’t hear them at all because our mind is elsewhere.
Can you hear the meaning behind the words?
How about the emotion behind the meaning?
Can you even hear the words at all?
We are almost done.
We now turn to the silent voices within - the subconscious whispers of self-doubt and ego in all their various forms. They speak to us all the time - and we obey, even though we never really hear what they say.
And then there is the deepest silence of them all - the voice drowned out by all the other voices. It is the voice of the soul, of truth and love and meaning and purpose. It is the ever-present voice which we can hear IF we can learn to silence all the other voices.
Do we hear it through the noise?
Do we even know that it is there?
The Sound of the Shofar
To all of these questions — and more — our poem offers an answer.
It is the shofar.
The shofar, with all of its history and meaning has the ability to give sound to the silence and enable us to hear the unheard.
The Ram’s Horn
That history begins with the Akeidah (the binding of Isaac); wherein a ram is caught in the thicket by its horn. That ram became a substitute for Yizhak (Isaac) and that horn becomes the first shofar. And through that shofar G-d declares that what He wants more than His rights is a relationship with us.
G-d, as it were, has to choose. What is more important to him. Demanding that which He ultimately speaking has every right to demand or an eternal relationship with the Jewish people. In the end, G-d chooses the relationship - because ultimately speaking love is more important to Him.
And so, we find the first message of the shofar. I, G-d, love you and want to have a relationship with you.
The Call of Sinai
The shofar next appears at Har Sinai (Mount Sinai).
There, it does not speak of love, but of values and purpose.
I am the God who freed you from slavery. I am the God who asks for fidelity like a faithful partner. I am the God who values honesty and Shabbat and family bonds and love of neighbor.
This is how I act in this world. This is what I value in this world.
At Sinai, the shofar awakens the silenced voice of morality, the voice of truth in a world of confusion.
Tumbling Walls
Later, the shofar circles around Jericho. Day after day, its sound pierces the air until the great walls come crashing down.
Here the message is clear: the shofar is unstoppable. You can try to ignore love, silence truth, to wall off conscience and suppress meaning. But the shofar’s sound will break through.
The Ultimate Shofar
And with that we finally come to the Shofar Gadol, the great shofar of redemption.
This shofar is not a new sound and doesn’t carry any new meaning.
Rather, it is the symphony of all the other shofar blasts that sounds when they are all played together.
It is the love of the Akeidah — where G-d showed us how sacrifice can be expressed through a substitute, so that our total dedication to Him can be real, and yet relationship with Him can endure.
It is the purpose and morality of Sinai — where G-d showed us how to best live and act in this world and what to focus on and believe in.
It is the power of Jericho — wherein G-d showed us that no wall can block out His will and that the sounds of love and purpose can overcome any and all obstacles.
Now, if we go back and reread this beautiful line from this beautiful poem, we will see that it is this shofar that gives sound to those silent voices. It is the symphony of all the shofars that allows us to hear the symphony of silence that is constantly ringing out in the world.
The song that plays no more. The words that were never spoken. The inner cry and the cries of the truly oppressed. The meaning behind the words. The whispers of conscience that silently sing inside our head. The ever present subtly silent voice of our soul.
All these voices will finally be heard, because we have finally heard all the various voices of the shofar. Once we learn to really love, to truly be moral and purposeful people and to not cower or give up in front of all the obstacles sent our way - then we will have the understanding and sensitivity to hear that ever present silent world that surrounds us and is within us.
And, truth be told, if we listen, truly listen - we may be able to hear that shofar gadol (great shofar) blast tomorrow in Shul - and thereby open ourselves up to all these other sounds that we are missing, but so badly near to hear.