The Whisper in the Shofar

By Rabbi Naftali Brawer PhD

Neubauer Executive Director, Tufts Hillel and Jewish Chaplain Tufts University.

The Jewish community will shortly be celebrating Rosh Hashanah, the Jewish New Year. A central ritual of the day is the sounding of a ram’s horn, called a Shofar.

Its sound is unlike any instrument: not polished, not melodic, but raw, primal, and urgent. It is a cry that seems to come from somewhere beyond words.

The blessing recited before sounding the shofar does not speak of blowing it. Instead, the blessing is “to hear the shofar.” This subtle shift matters. The ritual is not about producing sound, but about opening ourselves to what the sound carries.

The Slonimer Rebbe, a Hasidic teacher of the last century, draws a parallel from the opening line of the book of Leviticus: “And He called to Moses, and the Lord spoke to him from the Tent of Meeting, saying…” The verse begins with mystery. Who is this anonymous “He” who calls? The Rebbe suggests that the call is not from one identifiable voice, but from all of existence itself. The rustling wind, the silent desert night, the pulse of being—Moses hears in this nameless call the whisper of the Divine.

So too with the shofar. Its blessing reminds us that the point is not in the blowing, but in the listening. To hear the shofar is to recognize in its broken, trembling notes the voice of life itself, calling us back. It is an awakening, a summons to notice the sacred woven quietly into the fabric of the ordinary.

Listening in this way is a discipline of the soul. It asks us to quiet the noise of our own thoughts and hear, in the cry of the shofar, the pulse of life that runs through everything. This is listening not just to a sound, but to being itself, to the very breath of existence. Such listening does not end at the ear; it awakens the heart to awe, opening us to live with wonder, humility, and radical amazement at the gift of life.

As the shofar sounds this New Year, may its call ripple outward, touching not only those who stand in the synagogue but all who are ready to listen for life’s deeper invitation. May we hear in it a call to live more gently with one another, more attuned to the world around us, and more awake to the mystery that sustains us.

Wishing you a year of sweetness, renewal, and peace.