Are You Listening?

Every Jewish festival has its symbols. One cannot think of Chanukah without conjuring up a mental image of a Menorah and one cannot talk about Rosh Hashanah without mentioning the Shofar. Interestingly enough, while the holiday’s nom de guerre is the Day of the Blowing of the Shofar, there is no mitzvah to actually blow a shofar. Instead, the commandment is to hear the shofar.
Since its inception, Judaism has always stressed the importance of the word and the sound.  Even at the outset of creation the Bible informs us that it was not the actions of G-d that brought all into being, it was the spoken word. At the Revelation of Sinai there was smoke and thunder, but that has long dissipated. What remains are the Ten Commandments; or as the original Hebrew renders it, the Ten Words. In fact, it is at this juncture in history, that the Torah devalues and in certain instances forbids the seen image as in,  “You shall not make a carved image or any likeness.”
Why the emphasis of the ear over the eye? Because hearing has always been much so more difficult for us humans than seeing. So while other religions have enshrined the image, we hold onto the word. An image could always be captured, held static through a picture, a monument, or even a few quick brushes in the sand, but the word, until the modern era of tape-recorders, was more ethereal and elusive. Of course, there was always writing, but it only reflected the meaning, not the tone or the rhythm.
In Judaism it is vital that we hear more than just the words, but also the deep seated emotions that create them. The piercing cry of the oppressed is but one example; the frustration behind the child’s cries another; and the soul’s yearning in the wail of the shofar, a third.
The shofar calls us to listen, not only to its sound, but to its message. Thus at the start of the New Year, there is no command to blow a ram’s horn, only to hear it. Simply put, on Rosh Hashanah we do not grasp the shofar’s shape, its externals. Rather, we attune ourselves to its internal voice. And yet, even more than listening to the shofar, is the necessity to pay attention to the muted whispers of our own soul.
There is a Rabbinic tradition that Joseph was freed from Egyptian prison on the first day of the Jewish year. As the commentaries point out, Joseph was a physically beautiful and talented young man. There was no reason why he should not be a success. And yet where did he end up? First he was thrown into a pit by his brothers, and then by his master whom he had served so faithfully. What went wrong? Until then, Joseph had only paid attention to his own dreams. Only years later, when he started to listen to the dreams of others, the butler and the baker, did he attain personal and complete redemption.
This is as we all know easier said than done. For the art of seeing comes to us naturally, while the ability to truly listen is a character trait that must be developed. Case in point: what would your children prefer doing, reading a fine book or watching an action-packed, sight-stimulating movie? Forget your youngsters, what would you rather do?
Nonetheless, this is the mitzvah. If we, like Joseph during his youth, have no time or consideration to hear the voice of our family, friends, and neighbors, then we too are trapped in a prison of our own making. But if we mature like our ancestor of old, then we not only gain the insights of others, we reap unimaginable blessings and unforeseen rewards.