A Feminine Perspective on the Shofar

From the morning of Rosh Chodesh Elul up until the thundering conclusion of Yom Kippur, we listen to the kol shofar, the voice of the shofar. The shofar is a cry, a wordless plea for mercy, a desire tugging on the heart of every Jew to come Home. The shofar is also majestic; coronating the King, beckoning an atmosphere of royalty, elevating us as Hashem’s servants. The shofar instills fear; its sound contains all the awe of these days of judgment, it reminds us why we tremble. The shofar’s blow is the breath Hashem blew into every Jewish soul, it casts our minds back to the creation of Adam and forward to the long-awaited sound of redemption. The shofar’s sound is both broken and complete, symbolizing our imperfections and our pure desire for teshuva both at once. It is one instrument, yet it conveys an entire orchestra of emotion. 

The word shofar comes from the root leshaper, to improve. Just as we refine our appearance physically, the shofar calls on us to refine ourselves spiritually¹. In the same way as removing physical blemishes enhances our physical appearances, removing spiritual blemishes enhances our spiritual appearance. A woman who understood this deeply was Shifra, one of the brave Jewish midwives in Egypt. Known to us as Yocheved, Rashi² tells us that the Torah calls her Shifra to praise her for the way that she beautified (meshapeir) the babies after birth for their mother. Although this may sound like a random connection, the concept of Shifra and shofar, of midwifery and teshuva are deeply interwoven.

Our appeal in these days is for Hashem to push aside His middat hadin, His attribute of judgment and use His middat harachamim, His attribute of mercy. We do not ask for a favourable judgment on Rosh Hashanah because we believe we are righteous or deserving. Rather we acknowledge, primarily through the shofar, that we depend desperately on Hashem’s natural flow of compassion for us. The Hebrew word for mercy, rachamim, is linguistically related to the rechem, the womb³. It is inside the rechem where a fetus develops and we ask Hashem to look upon us as a mother does to the baby in her womb. To see us as helpless, innocent, dependent– and loveable. 

Rav Pam zt’l pointed out that the Torah describes all the korbanot (offerings) of the various yamim tovim with the verb “vehikravtem” meaning “and you shall offer up.” However, for the offering of Rosh Hashanah, the Torah uses the word “va’asitem” “and you shall create.” Rav Pam explained that this distinction expresses the depth of the teshuva process: creation. Starting on Rosh Chodesh Elul, we start again. In the world of spiritual realities, we are literally born again.

But, that is not all. Incredibly, the Hebrew word for amniotic fluid, the watery substance which sustains a baby in utero is mei shapir. Shapir, shofar, Shifra. Hearing the shofar blow throughout the month of Elul reminds us of this primordial liquid and reinforces the message that we are once again, inside the womb, dependent on the mercy of a loving parent, Hashem. It inspires us that we can recreate ourselves because “va’asitem,” we are becoming entirely new beings. It casts us back to the holy work of Shifra, who beautified each baby for its mother. Elul is our pregnancy–  and then we reach Rosh Hashanah hayom harat olam, our conception and birth. With our newborn souls, we must be meshaper, beautify and improve ourselves. 

As women, we more than anyone else can understand the depth of the link between the Shofar and Shifra. Between birth and teshuva. We can truly appreciate why the word for mercy and womb are one and the same. The spiritual anatomy of the shofar reflects our spiritual anatomy and in the call and cry of the shofar, we can perceive the call and cry of every female soul.

The shofar physically resembles the birth canal: a narrow opening with a wide end. This brings to mind the pasuk⁴ min hameitzar karati kah, anani B’merchav kah – “from a narrow place I called Hashem, answer me with expansiveness, Hashem⁵.” This is our labour. As we know, following the birth of a newborn, high standards must be adopted. The newborn needs to be handled delicately, held in optimum position, their skin kept clean. We are nervous with a newborn, weighing them each week to check they are well-fed, keeping them at the right temperature. This helps us understand the month of Elul and the aseret yamei teshuva which follow. In this time period, spiritual sensitivity is at its peak, we keep standards which perhaps slipped over the year, we take on kabbalot which are perhaps loftier than we truly are. But all this is because we are like a fragile newborn in these days⁶.

The Kohen Gadol’s powerful prayer on the holiest day of the year entreated Hashem “let not any woman lose her pri bitna this year.” What is pri bitna? Literally it means the fruit of her womb, it is a prayer that no woman should suffer a miscarriage. But the Vilna Gaon adds a layer of meaning. At this time of year, we are all pri bitna. We are all recreated. When a baby is born, it is perfect. The parents have big dreams, they imagine all that their child will achieve and all the nachat they will bring. This prayer begs Hashem to ensure that our aspirations and dreams for ourselves never dissipate. That the inspiration of Elul should be so real and concrete that it should remain with us all year round.

As women, we more than anyone else can understand the depth of the link between the Shofar and Shifra. Between birth and teshuva. We can truly appreciate why the word for mercy and womb are one and the same. The spiritual anatomy of the shofar reflects our spiritual anatomy and in the call and cry of the shofar, we can perceive the call and cry of every female soul. May we internalise it and merit closeness to Hashem, this Elul and always.

1. See Gra on Mishlei 9:8 for further connection between physical and spiritual blemishes  ↩︎
2. Shemot 1:15 ↩︎
3. Idea heard from Rabbi Daniel Rowe ↩︎
4. Tehillim 118:5 ↩︎
5. Discussed by Rav Yissocher Frand in ‘Why we Tremble’  ↩︎
6. See Rav Akiva Tatz in ‘Why we Tremble’ ↩︎