Shofar blown before IDF operation
Shofar blown before IDF operationIDF Spokesperson

Rosh Hashanah is Yom Harat Olam, the birthday of the world.

Not just of the Jewish people, but of all humanity.

On this day, Am Yisrael gathers in every corner of the earth to declare a vision that is nothing less than revolutionary: “Ki beiti beit tefillah yikarei le’kol ha’amim” - “For My House shall be called a House of Prayer for all nations.”

It is easy to forget how radical this is.

We are a nation still bleeding from October 7th.

We are a people still crying for our brothers and sisters still held hostage in Gaza.

We are a people suffering through the daily words of “released for publication” - more families shattered.

We are surrounded by hatred on the battlefield, in the media, and in the streets.

And yet, what do we proclaim on Rosh Hashanah? That we long for a world where every nation will one day come together in Yerushalayim to pray.

In Mussaf we say: “V’yitnu lecha keter melucha.” “And they shall give You the crown of kingship.”

Who is the “they”?

Not just Israel. Kol ha’amim.

All of the nations.

This is the Jewish vision of the future: not a world where Jews alone survive, but a world where all peoples recognize Hashem as the Melech Malchei HaMelachim.

A world where justice and truth become universal.

And yet, look around. It’s September 2025 and the world feels like it is moving in the opposite direction.

Antisemitism is spreading like wildfire from campuses poisoned with lies, to parliaments dripping with hypocrisy, to celebrities flaunting symbols of terror as if they were badges of honor.

And just last week, the murder of Charlie Kirk sent shockwaves throughout the world. Here was a gentile who stood with Israel and the Jewish people, who dared to confront the lies of our age, who spoke boldly about faith, family, freedom, and the eternal covenant between God and His people. And for that, he was gunned down.

His assassination was not just the silencing of a man. It was the silencing of moral clarity. Proof that we live in a time when those who speak truth are hunted, while those who glorify terror are celebrated.

Meanwhile, our hostages remain in captivity. And the world, the same world that preaches human rights, turns its eyes away.

But Rosh Hashanah does not allow us to give in to despair. It calls us to lift our gaze higher. To remember that history is not random. That nations rise and fall, but Hashem reigns forever. That we are not only praying for ourselves, but for the redemption of the world.

HIS world.

When we cry for the rebuilding of the Beit HaMikdash, it is not because we long for stones and mortar. It is because humanity is adrift. Because without Yerushalayim as the heart, the world is a body without a soul. Because without Hashem recognized as King, humanity crowns tyrants, dictators, and ideologies of hatred in His place.

The prophet Yeshayahu saw what we pray for: “And it shall come to pass in the end of days that the mountain of Hashem’s House shall be established at the top of the mountains… and all nations shall stream toward it.”

This is not naïve. It is not a weakness. It is the boldest, most defiant statement in a world gone mad: that evil will not win.

That hatred will not write the final chapter of history.

That Yerushalayim will not forever be cursed, but will become the center of blessing for the entire earth.

So when we stand this Rosh Hashanah and declare “V’yitnu lekha keter melukhah”, that we crown Hashem as king, let us know the weight of our words.

We are declaring that antisemitism will not define the future. That the blood of truth-tellers will not be in vain. That every captive will return. That Yerushalayim will be whole. That one day, and may it be soon, the world will give Hashem the crown.

And on that day, the Beit HaMikdash will rise again. Not only as the sanctuary of Am Yisrael, but as a 'Beit Tefillah le’kol ha’amim'. The House where Jews and every nation under the heavens will bow together before the One true God.

Until then, our shofar is both a cry and a prophecy.

A cry for the pain of the present.

A prophecy of the world to come.

This Rosh Hashanah, may the sound of the shofar pierce the heavens and may it awaken the world to its destiny.