There are three curious aspects about this period of the Days of Awe that I would like to attempt to analyze.



First of all, what is the real message of the sound of the shofar, especially since the Bible itself says about our Jewish New Year's Day, "A Day of the broken sound of the shofar - truah shall it be for you."



Secondly, during the month of Elul, as well as the days between Rosh HaShanah and Yom Kippur, we recite special penitential prayers (Slichot), which should actually be said very early in the morning before sunrise. What is the significance of these prayers?



And finally, the High Priest (Kohen Gadol) is commanded to enter the innermost part of the sanctuary - known as the Holy of Holies ? only twice a year, on the same day, Yom Kippur, the Day of Forgiveness. The first time he enters, he offers incense in a very difficult act of Divine service. The second time, towards the end of the day, he goes in to this most sacred of places without any specific function mandated by the Bible. What could possibly be the significance of this second entry into such a holy place?



The broken, staccato sound of the shofar (truah) is identified by the sages of the Talmud as either being three sighs or nine sobs. These sounds cannot but remind us of an infants wailing, which is perhaps the most primal sound known to human beings. What is the baby seeking when he looks up at his mother and cries in this way? The most primal need within every human being, the need for love. The most frightening experience is being alienated, alone and unloved. Our most fundamental human need is to be loved unconditionally.



It is precisely this unconditional love that our Parent in Heaven is willing to give to His children on earth. The Hasidic disciples of the revered Rebbe Menachem Mendel of Kotzk once asked him, "Why is it that in Kabbalistic and Hassidic lore the Almighty is referred to as the Shekhinah, usually translated as Divine Presence? After all, the Hebrew noun shekhinah is a feminine noun, as are all subjects ending with ah (like yaldah, a young girl), but we are living in a very patriarchal society. Ought G-d not be referred to with a masculine noun?"



The Kotzk Rebbe smiled and explained with an analogy that might be a bit anachronistic, but that contains a most profound message: "It is the way of the world that when a father comes home after a difficult day's work, he derives great relaxation from playing with his infant child, but once the baby messes its diaper, he gives the baby to its mother to clean it up. But watch the mother as she changes the diaper - sees how she kisses the baby as she cleans it. She accepts the child with its filth. That is precisely the way G-d accepts us, with His Divine and unconditional love."



This is the true meaning of our penitential prayers. Again and again, we repeat the very names or partial descriptions of G-d that the Almighty revealed to Moses as the great prophet stood at the cleft of a rock: "Lord, Lord (Y-HVH) G-d of Compassion (Rahum) and Freely-Giving Love (Hanun), Long-Suffering, Full of Kindness and Truth...." (Exodus 34:6) Our sages explain that "the Lord of Love" is written twice because G-d loves us before we sin and G-d still loves us after we sin. The Hebrew word for compassion (rahum) is built on the Hebrew noun rehem, which means "womb". G-d loves us unconditionally, just like a mother loves a child of her womb unconditionally. The shofar sound is a human cry for love. The penitential prayers are G-d's loving response to our tearful request.



The High Priest, who serves as a representative of the entire Jewish people, spends the entire day of Yom Kippur busily engaged in presenting sacrificial offerings to the Divine. At the end of the day, he enters the Holy of Holies just as he is, with no offering at all. He is asking that G-d accept him just as he is. And this is precisely the meaning of the very last request of the penitential prayers, Avinu Malkaynu ("Our father, our king"): "Be gracious unto us and answer us because we have no worthy deeds to speak up for us; do for us an act of charity, an unconditional lovingkindness, and save us." And we actually sing these words out loud in order to express our joy in a G-d who loves us unconditionally.



An individual once went to Rabbi Yisroel Baal Shem Tov and asked the proper way to repent. The rabbi told him to make a large fire and to cast into its flames two separate piles of papers. In one pile, he should write the names of all those people for whom he did favors; in the other pile, he should write the names of all those people who wronged him. He must destroy both piles in order to demonstrate that if G-d loves us unconditionally, then we must love every other human being unconditionally as well - and we must never expect any reward or thanks for the good things we do.



Shabbat Shalom and may you all enjoy a good, blessed and unconditional New Year.