Adina Roth – Head of Jewish Life

Tekiah

This week was a week of Emanuel riches and sweetness. At the Year 12 Graduation Assembly, Mr Watt and Dr Duncan spoke to each and every Year 12, seeing them and honouring their uniqueness. At this same assembly I gave a d’var torah where I sang a little excerpt from Somewhere Over the Rainbow. A few hours later, a mother told me that she had cried when I sang. The reason she cried, she explained, is because it is not always common to hear women singing in Jewish public spaces. Of course, at Emanuel, we encourage the full expression of all our voices (and as was mentioned this week, we even accommodate some chutzpah)! However, I have been in Jewish spaces in my life where women are not allowed to sing in public and so I understood keenly why this mum was so moved.

This prohibiting and allowing of voices led me to thinking about the sounds of this season, specifically the heart-stirring, evocative sounds of the Shofar. We listen to the shofar throughout Elul and again on Rosh Hashanah. We are supposed to hear 100 blasts. There are many different reasons given for the blowing of the shofar.  A lesser-known reason is linked to the voice of women, one woman in particular! On the second day of Rosh Hashanah, we read the story of the sacrifice of Isaac (from the book of Bereshit). In it, we trace the disturbing story where God asks Avraham to bring up his son as a sacrifice and Avraham obeys God’s command only to be thwarted at the last minute by an angel of God. Our tradition generally praises Avraham, citing his obedience as an illustration of his obedience and faith. Immediately after the Akeidah, we read that Sarah died. The Rabbis in our tradition powerfully link the two events, saying that Sarah had not been informed about the sacrifice of her son. It seems her discovery about her son’s possible sacrifice leads to her dying of shock. In the Midrash, in Vayikra Rabba, we are told on Sarah hearing what had been asked of her son, she cried six cries, corresponding to the Tekiot of the Shofar and died. 

Sarah’s cry feels like a very important voice in the story of the Akeidah.  As the mother of Isaac, Sarah disapproves of this test and we can speculate that had she been asked this by God, she may well have refused. Thus, Sarah becomes an important part of the Akeidah story. Although Sarah’s protest is not explicitly present in the story, we find her voice in the commentaries. Her voice is a strong voice of counter-commentary. And she is wailing like the shofar.

If Sarah’s cry is compared to the shofar, then the sound of the Shofar on Rosh Hashanah is an invitation to remember Sarah’s voice, and all voices which are not always empowered. This is also personal! As we listen to the Shofar, we have a chance to introspect and consider how we utilise our voice in the world. Do we speak too much or do we sell ourselves short and not value our voice enough? On a societal level, we need to consider who is empowered in our world with a voice and look for the quieter voices that are not as prominent in the ‘main story’. As we listen to the shofar this year (take a look at a list of shules and their Rosh Hashanah programs in this Ma Nishmah), let us consider ways in which we can articulate our own authentic voices and also make the world a place where those with less power can be heard.

Shanah tovah, u’metukah, Ketivah ve’chatimah Tovah, כתיבה וחתימה טובה שנה טובה ומתוקה,

Blessings for a Sweet and Good New Year and May we all be written and sealed in the Book of Life.