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The Beginning of Elul

This past Wednesday, as I was traveling back from Israel, we began the month of Elul. 

Elul is the 12th and final month in the Jewish calendar when it comes to Judaism’s yearly cycle for all humanity. It is a month that connects the past year with the coming year—a time when we reflect on where we stand and where we should be going.

The four letters of the name Elul can be seen as an acronym for the phrase in Song of Songs: “I am to my beloved and my beloved is to me,” (6:3). “I am to my beloved”—we approach G-d with a desire to return and connect. “And my beloved is to me”—G-d reciprocates with Divine expressions of mercy and forgiveness. Therefore, Elul is also known as “the month of repentance,” “the month of mercy” and “the month of forgiveness.” 

Historically, it was on Rosh Chodesh Elul that Moses ascended Mount Sinai for a third forty day period until Yom Kippur, when he descended with the second tablets and G-d’s word of joyful, wholehearted forgiveness (the first time Moses ascended was to receive the first tablets; the second time was after the sin of the Golden Calf, to ask for forgiveness; and this third time was to receive the second set of tablets). These were days when G-d revealed to the Jewish people great mercy. Since then, this time has been designated as a time of mercy and forgiveness, an opportune time for teshuvah—repentance and connecting with G-d.

Every day of Elul in preparation for Rosh Hashanah we blow the shofar at the end of the weekday services and recite Psalm 27 in anticipation of the High Holidays. Three different types of blasts are sounded. The first is a “tekiah.” This sound is one long continuous burst. The second sound is called a “shevarim.” It consists of three shorter blasts. The third sound is the “teruah.” The teruah is a set of nine short bursts of sound, a staccato blast. 

The Gemara in Rosh HaShana tells us that these later two sounds are meant to sound like crying: “. . . drawing a long sigh. . . uttering short piercing cries.” The commentaries write that these sounds are meant to contrast with the tekiah. The tekiah is a sound of triumph and joy, while the shevarim and teruah are sounds of pain and suffering.

Why do we have both sounds of joy and sounds of sorrow emitted from the Shofar? Rabbi Yosef Chaim of Bagdad (1834-1909) explains by means of a story. A man had a ring specially made for him. Upon this ring, he had engraved the words “This, too, will pass.” If he were troubled and in pain, he would look at his ring and remember that the suffering would eventually end. This thought comforted him. During times of happiness and comfort, he would gaze at the ring as well. He would realize that his wealth and good fortune could change for the worse in an instant. Good times are not forever. He would recognize that there was no reason to become conceited and haughty over circumstances which were beyond his control and could turn adverse without any warning. This ring reminded the man that all in his life had to be put in perspective, and that one should live his life neither complacent nor despondent.

The tekiah, the first sound, is a sound of joy and happiness. Immediately after we hear the long exultant blast, we hear the shevarim and teruah. These are both sounds of sadness, pain, and suffering. The stark contrast between these sounds is intentional. We are supposed to remember while listening to the shofar that we cannot forget G-d during times of contentment, and we cannot let our egos swell from our achievements. Success can quickly turn into failure. Only with G-d’s help did we prosper, and only with G-d’s help will we continue to do so. However, upon hearing the sorrowful sound of the Shofar, we should not think that in times of suffering G-d has forsaken us. We should not become depressed and despondent. Right after these blasts, we sound a tekiah again, to signify that G-d is there, and in His mercy will help us return to a state of jubilation again.