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Elul

Tonight begins Rosh Chodesh Elul, the new moon.

Starting on Sunday every morning services will end with the blowing of the shofar as a reminder that Rosh HaShanah and all of the internal work we need to do to prepare is soon coming.

My father died on the fourth day of Elul. Those of you who grew up in Quincy remember his shofar blowing. He was a powerful shofar blower.

The year after my father died our rabbi asked if anyone in our household blew shofar. I volunteered. Since then, every day during the month of Elul I run through the blasts.  First I go through the shofar blasts on the tan shofar and then on the black one.

The tan one is HARD to blow. The black one is ugly but is easy to blow and produces the sharp shrill sounds I remember my father producing.

When my mother was still alive I used to call her before I practiced. I would ask her if she wanted to hear me blow shofar. She always said yes.  I would  put down the phone and go through the blasts. When I would be done, my mother would usually be weeping and then she would thank me for letting her listen to me practice.

Each time I practice I remember watching my father as he blew shofar. I also remember blowing shofar with my mother at the other end of the phone.


There is something so deeply satisfying about going through this month of my father's death visiting this task he did so well each day of the month.


I try to blow so that the blast vibrates in the chests of the people davening in the same room with me. I try to blow so that even the people sitting in the very back of the balcony feel it in their bones. I think about how no matter who is blowing the shofar, you just want their blasts to be true and strong. In a deeply primitive way the calls of the shofar are carrying the prayers of the community. You just want that message to be delivered clearly.

When I stand up to blow shofar on Rosh HaShanah I often think of my body as a hollowed out tube whose job it is to deliver the prayers of everyone in the room. It's a profound experience. I am fortunate to be able to do it.

Wishing all of you a meaningful Elul.

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