Each morning for the past month, during the Hebrew month Elul, we have sounded the Shofar in anticipation of Rosh Hashanah, which begins this evening.
The sound of the Shofar serves as an alarm clock, a reminder that we need to wake up, make the most of our day, and make plans for our coming year. The root of the Hebrew word Shofar (Shin, Pey, Resh) means to improve. The month of Elul is our opportunity to improve ourselves and to help those around us as they strive to make their improvements.
We must realize that something needs improvement before we take the necessary steps. Knowing where we fall short and how to improve is difficult for many.

Rosh Hashanah Cards designed by students
As human beings, we must continually strive to better ourselves. This is achievable only when we dig deep to uncover the areas in which we fall short and need improvement. The sound of the Shofar reminds us how we have been fractured and that breaks may be present. Our responsibility is to put the pieces back together—to seal those fractured pieces. Throughout the year, we fall apart. We become broken, like the Shevarim (a word that literally means broken). As the year progresses, we may become even more fractured, like the sound of the Teruah. Somehow, we must prepare ourselves before Rosh Hashanah to get back to the Tekiah, back to the straight path, and put ourselves back together. That is why we have the month of Elul.
The sound of the Shofar is also the sound of crying. It was not lost on me that when we began blowing the shofar this Elul, its cry that first morning was the first cry we had heard since October 7th—though it wasn’t. We have been crying every day since October 7th, almost exactly a year this week of crying.

Rosh Hashanah Cards designed by students
On the first of Elul, it was almost 11 months to the day from October 7th. And it was the week that six precious souls were lost and were found by the IDF in the tunnels beneath Rafah, murdered by Hamas. Our cries have never been more robust than they were that week, with the Shofar amplifying our collective sobbing. And now, Rosh Hashanah, tonight is just days shy of one full year on the English calendar.
Each sound of the Shofar is a cry. It’s not lost on me how this cry connects to the pasuk, the verse we read immediately before blowing the Shofar on Rosh Hashanah. מִֽן־הַ֭מֵּצַ֥ר קָרָ֣אתִי יָּ֑הּ עָנָ֖נִי בַמֶּרְחָ֣ב יָֽהּ׃
From the narrow depths I called on the LORD;
the Lord answered me and brought me relief from the wide open.

Rosh Hashanah Cards designed by students
It’s one of my favorite verses. We become tense, closed off, finding ourselves in a narrow place. Yet when we call out, the answer comes from the wide open. It’s a beautiful concept. We have been calling out all year from the narrow opening of our Shofar into the vast openness from which the sound emanates, hoping and praying for relief.
Our cry is for our prayer to be answered. We, too, must do our part. We must call out. We must make a sound. We must help to improve the world around us.
