On Satruday we begin the holy day of Rosh Hashanah, which literally means “Head of the Year.” It marks the beginning of the Jewish New Year.
This year will be 5783. That year is calculated based on the creation of the world as described in the opening chapters of Genesis.
One of the ways of proclaiming the New Year is sounding the shofar. The shofar is a ram’s horn. It makes a piercing sound. The sounds echo Isaac’s cry in the biblical story when Abraham was prepared to sacrifice him upon Mount Moriah.
The sounds also serve as a spiritual wake-up call. They call us to renew our lives and faith in the upcoming year.
But over time the sounding of the shofar has begun to symbolize much more. It proclaims Jewish freedom and sovereignty in the land of Israel. It harnesses the energy and spirit of a people reborn.
In this spirit, I share this story. It gives me goosebumps every time I read it. It tells the story of the sounding of the shofar by a man named Abraham Elkayam.
A Higher Law
First, a little background: Before 1948, Jews would always visit the Western Wall on Yom Kippur, the holiest day of the Jewish year.
But in 1930 the British, who controlled Jerusalem until 1948, made it illegal to sound the shofar at the Western Wall. They said it inflamed tensions.
Nevertheless, every year, from 1930 to 1948, someone would successfully sneak by the British guards and sound the shofar before escaping into the crowd.
In 1948, during Israel’s war for Independence, the Old City of Jerusalem—which includes the Western Wall—was captured by the Jordanians.
For the next twenty years, Jordan forbid any Jews from entering it, even on Yom Kippur. In 1967, however, during the Six Day War, Israeli soldiers retook control of the Old City.
Making Haste to Jerusalem
At that moment, a soldier named Avraham Elkayam was serving in the Sinai Desert. When he heard the news about Jerusalem, he knew he had to get there.
He hitchhiked down to Jerusalem and went right to the Western Wall. He started asking everyone in sight if they had a shofar.
Finally, he got one, and he started playing it. And then he kept playing it as if it was the last thing on earth he would ever do.
After a while, an older man walked up to him and said, “What’s the deal with the shofar?”
The breathless soldier exclaimed, “I’ve been waiting twenty years to do this. In 1947, I was the last one to sound the shofar here on Yom Kippur.”
Generation to Generation
The old man started weeping. “My name,” he said, “is Moshe Segal. I sounded the shofar right here in 1930.”
They hugged, cried, and danced together.
In 2010, the six remaining survivors of those who had sounded the shofar in violation of British law between 1930 and 1947 returned to the wall.
Two of them sat in wheelchairs. Together they sounded the shofar.
Rabbi…Thanks for the goosebumps!!
ברוך השם
Gary