September 18, 2023|ג' תשרי ה' אלפים תשפ"ד Rosh Hashana: The Holiday of Freedom?
Print ArticleIn September 1980, the Student Struggle for Soviet Jewry, the SSSJ, called for a massive symbolic shofar blowing ceremony at the Soviet UN Mission. The SSSJ sent letters to rabbis immediately before Rosh Hashanah, urging them to encourage congregants to join the gathering to protest an 85% decrease in Soviet Jewish emigration during the previous year. SSSJ press releases noted that “the shofar blasts … symbolize calls to introspection and to action…” and will “call attention to this potential catastrophe – the closing of the gates just as we beseech God to keep them open.” The phrase “תקע בשופר גדול לחרותנו ושא נס לקבץ גלויותינו “ - blow the Shofar of Freedom, was seen on a poster of the event, which referenced the bracha in shemona esrei that called for the gathering of the exiles. The truth is that this was not the first time that the shofar was invoked to pursue freedom for Soviet Jewry.
More than fifty years beforehand, in 1929, Rabbi Yosef Yitzchak Schneerson, known as the Frierdiker Rebbe, who was the sixth Chabad Rebbe, visited America. He had come to speak about the crisis in which Jews in the Soviet Union found themselves. He also came to meet a man who had exerted himself to free the Chabad Rebbe when he was jailed by the Soviets. This man was now the president of the United States, Herbert Hoover. The Frierdiker Rebbe met with President Hoover at the White House, but he also made a pilgrimage to the Liberty Bell. What is written on the Liberty Bell? “Proclaim liberty throughout all the land.” This phrase is taken from the Torah’s discussion of yovel, the jubilee year, when the Torah commands us to free all slaves. How do we usher in the yovel year? The Torah states, “וְהַֽעֲבַרְתָּ֞ שׁוֹפַ֤ר תְּרוּעָה֙ בַּחֹ֣דֶשׁ הַשְּׁבִעִ֔י בֶּעָשׂ֖וֹר לַחֹ֑דֶשׁ בְּיוֹם֙ הַכִּפֻּרִ֔ים תַּעֲבִ֥ירוּ שׁוֹפָ֖ר בְּכׇל־אַרְצְכֶֽם׃ “ Then you shall sound the shofar loud; in the seventh month, on the tenth day of the month—the Day of Atonement—you shall have the shofar sounded throughout your land. וְקִדַּשְׁתֶּ֗ם אֵ֣ת שְׁנַ֤ת הַחֲמִשִּׁים֙ שָׁנָ֔ה וּקְרָאתֶ֥ם דְּר֛וֹר בָּאָ֖רֶץ לְכׇל־יֹשְׁבֶ֑יהָ – and you shall sanctify the fiftieth year and you shall proclaim liberty throughout the land for all its inhabitants. When the Frierdiker Rebbe arrived at the Liberty Bell, in front of a huge crowd, he reverently placed a wreath on the Liberty Bell, paying tribute to the Biblical message of freedom that America embodied.
Clearly, the Biblical value of freedom is inextricably tied to the sound of the shofar of Yovel, but is it tied to the shofar of Rosh Hashana? Is the message of freedom of תקע בשופר גדול לחרותנו from the SSSJ rallies and וּקְרָאתֶ֥ם דְּר֛וֹר בָּאָ֖רֶץ from the Liberty Bell tied to the shofar of Rosh Hashana? Absolutely. Truth be told, even though we associate the shofar most directly with the holiday of Rosh Hashana, the Torah never tells us to blow a shofar on Rosh Hashana. The Torah tells us that today is a day of “teru-a,” of crying, but nowhere does it mention how we are supposed to cry. Nowhere does the Torah command us to specifically use the symbol of Rosh Hashana, the shofar, on Rosh Hashana. What, then, is the basis for our practice to use a shofar? The gemara (Rosh Hashana 33b) makes a textual comparison between our Rosh Hashana obligation of issuing a “teru-a” to the obligation to free slaves on the yovel year. There it says that we use a shofar to make a “teru-a” sound to usher in the yovel year. Just like on Yom Kippur of the yovel year we blow a shofar to usher in the year to free slaves, we also use a shofar on Rosh Hashana to make the teru-a sound. The fact that we learn the obligation to use a shofar on Rosh Hashana from the obligation to use a shofar on the yovel year is the Torah’s way of telling us that the shofar is, yes, primarily a vehicle for teruah, for crying, for crying out to God, but the shofar is also a symbol of yovel. It is also a symbol of freedom.
How should we understand this freedom of the Rosh Hashana shofar? What does it mean to us? If we were playing a word association game, and you say shofar, I would likely say Rosh Hashana, but if you say holiday of freedom, I don’t think that I would say Rosh Hashana. I would say Pesach. Pesach is the holiday of freedom! But what about Rosh Hashana? What about תקע בשופר גדול לחרותנו ? What about וּקְרָאתֶ֥ם דְּר֛וֹר בָּאָ֖רֶץ, of the shofar as being a religious liberty bell and the connection between Rosh Hashana and yovel? How can we deny the connection between the holiday of Rosh Hashana and the value of freedom?
The truth is that the holiday of Pesach is the holiday of freedom and the holiday Rosh Hashana is also the holiday of freedom, but a different type of freedom. The holiday of Pesach celebrates our external freedom, our freedom from slavery. Slavery takes away that part of a person that is quintessentially human, which is the ability to choose. Pesach celebrates a time in our national history when we were first given the ability to choose. Rosh Hashana is the holiday that reminds us of that freedom. Rosh Hashana reminds us that we are indeed free.
But we go through life often feeling that we are not free, that we are stuck, that we are stuck in our particular life circumstance, in our particular family dynamic, in our particular health situation, in our particular job, and we feel stuck. There is nothing that I can do to change. And it’s not getting better in this country. Unfortunately, studies have shown that depression and a sense of hopelessness have risen dramatically in the last few years, including 40 percent of young people, 26 percent of seniors, and presently, 100 percent of New York Jets fans. We feel that we cannot change.
But that’s simply not true. Viktor Frankl, the great psychiatrist and founder of logotherapy who survived Auschwitz, famously said, “Everything can be taken from a man but one thing: the last of the human freedoms – to choose one’s attitude in any given set of circumstances, to choose one’s own way.” How we respond to any situation is completely and totally up to us.
One day, the Baal Shem Tov came across a water-carrier who was passing by, with a pole across his back and a pail of water tied at each end. “Feivel, how are you doing today, my friend?” the Baal Shem Tov asked. “How is your health and how is your parnassah?” “Thank G‑d, I’m fine,” replied the water-carrier, but then sighed unhappily. He complained about how difficult it was to carry such heavy pails all day, and yet he barely made enough money to survive. Not only that, but the local children teased him, and sometimes tipped over his pails. The Baal Shem Tov responded with a few commiserating words and a parting blessing. The next day, the Baal Shem Tov saw the water-carrier pass by. As soon as he spotted him, the Baal Shem asked, “Nu, Feivel, how are things today?” “Thank God, I can’t complain,” answered the water-carrier cheerfully. “I have steady business—after all, everyone needs water. I’m not rich, but I get by. The pails are heavy, but praise G‑d, I have a strong back.” “And what about the children who bother you?” the Baal Shem Tov persisted. “Children!” laughed the water-carrier. “G‑d bless them! Children are supposed to be mischievous, aren’t they? Besides, I can always buy them off with a bit of candy.” The water-carrier continued on his way with a wave, and the Baal Shem Tov was puzzled. The same water-carrier two days in a row, with the same parnasa. But one day he was miserable and the next day he was happy. At that moment, the Baal Shem Tov understood that, yes, there are certain things that we cannot change. We may always be stuck as a water carrier. But we can always change our attitude to life. This is the freedom that each one of us has.
Not only are we truly free to change our attitude and outlook on life, but we are always free to reassess our relationship with HaKadosh Baruch Hu, with God. It is no coincidence that smack in the middle of the Rambam’s book of laws on teshuva, or repentance, the Rambam opens the fifth chapter by telling us:
רְשׁוּת לְכָל אָדָם נְתוּנָה. אִם רָצָה לְהַטּוֹת עַצְמוֹ לְדֶרֶךְ טוֹבָה וְלִהְיוֹת צַדִּיק הָרְשׁוּת בְּיָדוֹ. וְאִם רָצָה לְהַטּוֹת עַצְמוֹ לְדֶרֶךְ רָעָה וְלִהְיוֹת רָשָׁע הָרְשׁוּת בְּיָדוֹ.
Free will is granted to all men. If one desires to turn himself to the path of good and be righteous, the choice is his. Should he desire to turn to the path of evil and be wicked, the choice is his.
The whole institution of teshuva, that God gives us the opportunity to repent and change our ways and our attitude and our perspective, reminds us of our freedom. The very fact that we can do teshuva, that we can act different tomorrow than we did yesterday, tells us that we are free. And belief in this freedom is the first step of teshuva!
And maybe with this understanding, we can appreciate the story of the akedah which we will read tomorrow, in a completely, different light. The older brother of the famous Rabbi Dr. Abraham Twerski was Rabbi Shlomo Twerski and he was a tremendous talmid chacham in his own right. In a sefer that he wrote entitled, “Malchut Shlomo,” he asked the following question. The Sifri in Parshat B’Ha-alotcha states that the shofar of Rosh Hashana is a shofar of freedom. In what way, asks Rabbi Twerski, is the shofar of Rosh Hashana a shofar of freedom? He explained that the shofar reminds us of the horn of the ram that was sacrificed instead of Yitzchak and by extension the shofar reminds us of akedat Yitzchak. What Avraham Avinu did was an expression of freedom. It’s difficult for us to comprehend, but in faithfully following God’s command, Avraham changed his entire perspective that he had been living with his entire life – a life of chesed, a life with the belief that his son would carry on his legacy, and a life whereby a father does not practice child sacrifice. At the end of the day, God does not allow Avraham to slaughter Yitzchak, but Avraham’s ability in the extreme to change his entire life’s perspective and his entire relationship with God is true freedom. This is the freedom that the Rambam speaks about. This is the freedom that Rosh Hashana and the spiritual Liberty Bell called the shofar reminds us that we all possess. We can change our attitude and our behavior about anything. Don’t get me wrong. It’s not easy. But the first step on our road to teshuva is belief in our freedom, freedom to choose and freedom to change.
Now I understand our resistance to this belief. In his work Pachad Yitzchak (Rosh Hashana #7), Rav Hutner asks the following question. Why does the gemara in Masechet Brachot 33b state that “hakol bidei shamayim chutz mi-yirat shamayim” – that everything is in the hands of heaven except for fear of heaven. God controls the world except for our free will. But why is our free will formulated as “yirat shamayim” – fear of Heaven? Why isn’t it formulated as ahavat shamayim– love of heaven. Isn’t that also subject to our free will? Rav Hutner explains that there is a difference between fear of heaven and love of heaven. The “ohev shamayim,” the lover of heaven desires the opportunity to freely choose God. The “yrai shamayim,” the one who fears heaven, is terrified of religious failure and would rather not have that freedom to sin. Only after expressing this fear, does he come to terms with his choice and chooses to do what is right. The gemara selects the term “yirat shamayim” to emphasize the initially frightening aspect of human freedom. Rav Hutner tells the story of a scholar who was afraid to take a seat on a religious court out of fear of making the wrong ruling. His teacher said to him, “Who then should become a judge? A person not concerned about making incorrect rulings?” Yes, we resist this belief in change because we are afraid of failure. We resist thinking that we can actually return to this very spot a year from now a changed person in how we treat others, in how we daven and in our overall approach to religious growth. We suffer from impostor syndrome. We don’t think we have freedom to change because of fear. But that’s okay. That’s our “yirat shamayim” talking. It’s natural to feel like an impostor. Our greatest leader, Moshe Rabbenu, felt like an impostor and that’s why he resisted God’s command to lead the Bnei Yisrael at first. But this is a healthy kind of fear. It is a fear that should just motivate us to try our best not to make mistakes when we do change.
Ultimately, we are fighting an internal battle between our belief in our freedom and our fear of failure. We yearn to become free from the shackles of jealousy and anxiety and from the voice that tells us that we cannot achieve. But I will tell you something. We don’t need to believe that change requires a personality transplant. Because, as I mentioned before, the mitzva of shofar on Rosh Hashana is derived from the shofar of yovel, of the jubilee year. And what happens when we blow the shofar on the jubilee year? “V’shavtem ish el achuzato.” We will return to our ancestral lands. “V’ish el mishpachto tashuvu.” We will return to our families. The land will revert to its original owner and the slave return to his family, because freedom here is about returning back home. When we hear the shofar, we are reminded of the freedom that we possess to just return to ourselves. When we hear the shofar, we are challenged to look deep inside and ask ourselves: What do I really want? How can I lead a more meaningful life? What changes can I make to my life that will fill me with tremendous purpose. Rosh Hashana is not a day of many intensive mitzvot or hours of Torah study. It is a day when we stand with a community of Jews in front of God by ourselves and have the space to ask ourselves how am I different than last year? How did my experiences over the past year change the way I am? In what ways have I let God more into my life? And then we can start planning for the coming year, with humility, spiritual maturity, and most importantly, the belief that we are free to choose and we are free to change, free to change our entire perspective, no matter what circumstance we find ourselves.
We may think that change is impossible, but think back to 1980, when the Student Struggle for Soviet Jewry called for a massive symbolic shofar blowing ceremony at the Soviet UN mission. Free Soviet Jews? Impossible. It is impossible, unless you have the faith, the faith of the Jewish Liberty Bell, because then you understand that nothing is impossible.
My prayer this Rosh Hashana is that when we hear the piercing sound of the shofar and throughout our holy tefillot, God should grant us all the courage and the determination to make the space in our lives to remind ourselves that teshuva is inextricably linked to our belief in our free will, that we can be like Avraham who exercised his freedom to change his entire worldview for the sake of God, that we can be like both Viktor Frankl and the water carrier and realize that nobody can take away our freedom to choose our attitude in response to any situation, that fear of failure is normal and even healthy, but ultimately change is not as difficult as we think. After all, we are simply returning to ourselves.