Rosh Hashanah - The Deep Meaning of the Day in Light of Chassidus | Rabbi Asher Perkesh

00:00 What is the meaning of Rosh Hashanah? What is its essence? When we begin to look into Rosh Hashanah and study it, we find a number of themes. Sometimes, because there are so many, we lose sight of what is essential, what is the root and what are the branches—the details. On the one hand, Rosh Hashanah is a “day of sounding the shofar.” Hakadosh Boruch Hu commands us in the Torah: “It shall be for you a day of sounding the shofar.” It is a day of shofar blowing. The Torah also calls it a day of remembrance. On the other hand, Tehillim, chapter 81, says: “Sound the shofar at the new moon, at the appointed time for our festival. For it is a statute for Israel, a judgment of the G-d of Yaakov.” It is a day of judgment, as the Gemara says in Rosh Hashanah, page 16: All the inhabitants of the world pass before Him like sheep being counted. A day of judgment. Then there is the theme of crowning the King. What exactly is the central point of Rosh Hashanah? What does crowning the King on Rosh Hashanah mean, and how does it connect to the day of judgment? How are all these things that take place on Rosh Hashanah connected? We encounter the same question with shofar blowing. It is the mitzvah of the day, as the Gemara says, and here too we can be confused: What exactly is the central point of sounding the shofar? The Torah gives us only these words: “It shall be for you a day of sounding the shofar.” The Torah does not say why we sound it, what purpose it serves, or what we are meant to accomplish through it. A day of sounding the shofar; the mitzvah of the day is the shofar. “The Merciful One said to blow”—that is, the Torah tells us to blow, so we blow. And then there is... The Rambam also says explicitly that shofar blowing is a decree of Scripture. On the other hand, there are various reasons given for sounding the shofar. Famously, Rav Saadiah Gaon gives ten reasons, ten explanations, including some extraordinarily profound ones. One is connected to crowning the King. That is

02:19 the first reason he gives: “With trumpets and the sound of the shofar, sound out before the King, Hashem.” When a king is crowned, the shofar is sounded. Then there is the theme of teshuvah. The Rambam says that although sounding the shofar on Rosh Hashanah is a decree of Scripture, it contains a message: “Awaken, sleepers, from your sleep; rouse yourselves from your slumber.” Return in teshuvah, and so on. It is a wonderful teaching of the Rambam that explains how sounding the shofar is connected to teshuvah. So what, in essence, is the central point of Rosh Hashanah? What is the central point of sounding the shofar? That is what we are going to discuss a little today: to put the ideas in order and understand what Chassidus, the teachings of the Baal Shem Tov, teaches us about the center—the inner, deeper point of Rosh Hashanah from which all the details branch out. What is the center of Rosh Hashanah? What does it mean to crown the King? What is the significance of crowning the King? What does it mean that a Jew has this extraordinary power: that a Jew stands before Hakadosh Boruch Hu and crowns Him as King? How can I, a simple, lowly human being, have the ability to crown Hakadosh Boruch Hu as King? Why does He need us to crown Him King every year? These are simple questions that arise when we try to understand this, and today we will discuss them. And how does it connect to the day of judgment? How does crowning the King connect to the day of judgment? How do the two go together? Where should we place the emphasis, and how does all this connect to the essential point of sounding the shofar according to the teachings and intentions of the Baal Shem Tov? Another point we will discuss today, especially relevant this year, is sounding the shofar when Rosh Hashanah falls on Shabbos—when we do not sound it. We begin the year,

04:27 and after looking forward all year to Rosh Hashanah, we find ourselves on its first day—but this year it begins on Shabbos, and we do not sound the shofar. Sometimes there is a certain feeling of having missed out. It is the first day of Rosh Hashanah, and everyone is at the height of readiness, full of feeling and eager to begin the year in the strongest possible way. And then we are told: No, this year Rosh Hashanah arrives, we do everything, but we do not sound the shofar. Why? We know what the Gemara says. In the fourth chapter of tractate Rosh Hashanah, the Mishnah—and then the Gemara—says: When the Yom Tov of Rosh Hashanah falls on Shabbos, they would sound the shofar in the Beis Hamikdash, but not elsewhere. In other words, in Jerusalem outside the Beis Hamikdash, throughout the Land of Israel, and outside the Land, they did not sound the shofar on Rosh Hashanah. And today, when we do not have the Beis Hamikdash, we do not sound it at all. So the question is: Why? The Gemara discusses this and says it is because of Rabba’s decree. There is a rabbinic safeguard here, as Rabba explained. Rabba, of course, did not institute the decree; he only explained it. The decree already existed in the time of the Beis Hamikdash, and Rabba was one of the Amoraim who later explained its reason. He explained that since everyone is obligated to hear the shofar but not everyone knows how to blow it, we are concerned that someone might carry a shofar in his hand for four amos in the public domain. That is, he would carry it on Shabbos and thereby violate a Torah prohibition. So, as a safeguard, the Sages instituted that the shofar not be sounded on Shabbos. And here a very simple question arises. The Alter Rebbe raised this question in his maamarim, and it comes up again and again in the maamarim of the Chabad Rebbeim when Rosh Hashanah falls

06:27 on Shabbos: How could they set aside such a great mitzvah as sounding the shofar? It is a mitzvah, but not just any mitzvah—a mitzvah of overarching significance, a central mitzvah through which we crown Hakadosh Boruch Hu as King. It is a mitzvah through which we bring about teshuvah, an overarching mitzvah that rectifies all the sins of the entire year. It is a mitzvah through which we receive the blessing of being inscribed and sealed for a good year, a good and sweet year, and all the blessings and spiritual bounty for the year ahead. And then, suddenly, it is set aside because of a decree. Of course, the Sages have the power to set aside a Torah law. But this is a decree—and not just any decree. It concerns someone who is unlearned. Who does not prepare for shofar blowing beforehand? A person would have to be so unlearned that Rosh Hashanah arrives and only then does he suddenly remember that he does not know how to blow the shofar. Besides that, he would also have to be careless enough not to realize that one may not carry a shofar in the street on Shabbos. Both things would have to happen, and only because of this would we set aside such an important mitzvah? This is a fundamental question raised in the maamarim of Chassidus. So today we will also discuss the essence of Rosh Hashanah according to Chassidus, the central point of sounding the shofar according to the teachings of the Baal Shem Tov, and how this all... how we observe Rosh Hashanah when it falls on Shabbos. What is the significance of our not sounding the shofar? How do we understand what that means? Let us begin with the words of the Gemara. The Gemara in tractate Rosh Hashanah, both on page 16 and on page 34, at the end of the tractate, says: Rava said, “Hakadosh Boruch Hu said: Recite before Me verses of kingship, remembrance, and shofar.” Hakadosh Boruch Hu asks the Jewish people

08:31 And He tells them: “On Rosh Hashanah, during the Musaf prayer, I want you to recite the blessings and the verses—the verses of Malchuyos, Zichronos, and Shofaros.” And He explains: “Malchuyos, so that you will crown Me king over you.” In other words, Hakadosh Boruch Hu asks and pleads with the Jewish people: Rosh Hashanah is coming. I ask you to recite Malchuyos before Me so that you will crown Me king over you. Through your prayers, you make Me king. “Zichronos, so that your remembrance will come before Me for good.” Hakadosh Boruch Hu will remember us and grant us a good year. “And through what? Through the shofar.” How do we bring all this about? Through the shofar. This is a teaching of our Sages. And here the question arises: What does this mean? What does it mean to “crown Me king over you”? What does it mean for a Jew to crown Hakadosh Boruch Hu king? Surely Hakadosh Boruch Hu is king in His own right. “Your kingship is a kingship over all worlds.” The creation of the world itself came about through the kingship of Hakadosh Boruch Hu. Hakadosh Boruch Hu is king, and because He is king, He created the world. So what does it actually mean that we crown Hakadosh Boruch Hu king? The Alter Rebbe explains in a maamar of Chassidus for Rosh Hashanah—the Alter Rebbe, author of the Tanya, says: There is a king, and there is a ruler. We say in Ashrei: “Your kingship is a kingship over all worlds, and Your dominion is in every generation.” These are two things that seem similar but are entirely different. There is kingship, and there is dominion. What is the difference between a king and a ruler? A ruler can rule by force. Dominion can be imposed against people’s will. We find the idea of dominion even in connection with animals: “And have dominion over the fish of the sea and the birds of the sky.” Dominion can be exercised by force. Whether the people want it or not, it can take the form of a dictatorship. There can be all kinds of rule imposed against their will. A king is something altogether different. Kingship, as we say in the wording of

10:50 the prayer, “And they willingly accepted His kingship upon themselves.” Kingship is something the people want, ask for, and seek. They willingly accept the yoke of kingship, and this works from both sides—from the people’s side and from the king’s side. When the people have no desire to devote themselves, when they do not want to, and the king then rules over them, it is forced on the people. And from the king’s side, too, his rule over them is without eagerness or pleasure; it is imposed. He does not give to them with a shining countenance; he gives to them by force. It is a different kind of relationship. But when accepting the kingship comes willingly, with pleasure and joy, when the people genuinely want to submit and devote themselves to the king, then the king’s influence is different too. The king takes pleasure in kingship and desires it. And the whole point of Rosh Hashanah is that a Jew, through our prayers, so to speak, arouses something in Hakadosh Boruch Hu. We bring about that Hakadosh Boruch Hu should want to be king and take pleasure in it. We awaken pleasure in the kingship of Hakadosh Boruch Hu, so that Hakadosh Boruch Hu will be king with desire and pleasure. That means His kingship this year will shine upon us with a radiant countenance, warmly and with pleasure. And then, of course, the influence itself will be a revelation of G-dliness characterized by closeness and a shining countenance. And when there is that closeness, that shining countenance, we see the Shechinah openly in the world. We see the kindness of Hakadosh Boruch Hu toward the Jewish people in an open, revealed way. That is what we ask for; that is our prayer on Rosh Hashanah. So that is what we are saying here. In fact, Hakadosh Boruch Hu is constantly bestowing life upon the world. At every moment, He creates, brings into being, gives life to, and sustains the entire world’s existence from nothing into something. But that can happen as dominion,

13:02 and it can happen as kingship. When Rosh Hashanah arrives, it is the day on which Hakadosh Boruch Hu asks the Jewish people: I want you to crown Me king, so that the kingship will be willing and joyful. It depends on you. And this began when Hakadosh Boruch Hu first created the world. The Midrash says in Pirkei DeRabbi Eliezer: When Hakadosh Boruch Hu created the world on 25 Elul—there is the well-known question people always ask: Why was Rosh Hashanah established on the sixth day of Creation? Seemingly, the world was created on 25 Elul. Why wasn’t Rosh Hashanah established on 25 Elul? “In the beginning G-d created the heavens and the earth.” That happened on 25 Elul. So that should have been the day marking the creation of the world. But no: it is the sixth day of Creation. What is the explanation? We can understand it from this Midrash. The Midrash explains that when Hakadosh Boruch Hu created the world on 25 Elul, there was no human being. There was no one to ask for it, no one to pray for it. It was an expression of “He desires kindness.” In other words, the flow of G-dly influence and the creation of the world on 25 Elul were the kindness of Hakadosh Boruch Hu—a gift. He did not wait for a human being to ask for it and want it. Of His own accord, He desired kindness; in His good will, He decided to bestow goodness upon creation, and He created a world. Then came the sixth day, when Adam was created. The Midrash says that when Adam was created, all the animals and all the other creatures in the world thought he was G-d, G-d forbid, and came to bow down to him. Adam then said to them: “Come, let us bow down and prostrate ourselves; let us kneel before Hashem, our Maker.” Adam revealed the true King, the kingship of Hakadosh Boruch Hu, to all creation. By saying, “Come, let us bow down and prostrate ourselves; come, let us devote ourselves, let us give ourselves over

15:08 to the King,” he brought about the crowning of Hakadosh Boruch Hu as king over all creation. This happened on 1 Tishrei, the sixth day, the day Adam was created. And then Hakadosh Boruch Hu said: From now on, I want My kingship to be accepted willingly, as it was when Adam was created. He was the first to bring creation to want, of its own free will, to devote itself to accepting Hakadosh Boruch Hu. It should come about through human effort, not as a gift from above. And this happens every year. Hakadosh Boruch Hu says: I am king for one year. The end of the year arrives, particularly Erev Rosh Hashanah, as the Arizal explains and describes in detail, and as is brought down in the name of the Baal Shem Tov in even greater detail. There is the well-known account written by the Baal Shem Tov’s grandson, the Degel Machaneh Ephraim. He describes in detail what he heard in the name of the Baal Shem Tov: how, at sunset on Erev Rosh Hashanah, there is, so to speak, a withdrawal—a withdrawal of that exalted sense of kingship. Hakadosh Boruch Hu, so to speak, says: That’s it. I no longer want to be king or take pleasure in it. This means—again—the world continues to live; the world continues to exist. We do not see the world thrown into confusion. It is Erev Rosh Hashanah, the night of Rosh Hashanah, and outwardly the world remains the same. But that is only outwardly. That is dominion. There is an analogy, sometimes also cited in the name of the Baal Shem Tov: a person is in the middle of a task, making something, building something, but he is tired. He has no enthusiasm, no desire, no pleasure, no geshmak. His heart is not in it, but he keeps going, listlessly, doing the work only outwardly. His hands are working, but he himself is practically asleep. An analogy along these lines—that is the point the Arizal is telling us,

17:12 The Baal Shem Tov. This is what happens on the night of Rosh Hashanah: the withdrawal of the desire and delight in kingship. There is still governance; there is still a world. The world continues to exist. But this is where the power of a Jew comes in. Hakadosh Boruch Hu gave this wonderful gift, this extraordinary power, to every Jew. And Hakadosh Boruch Hu, so to speak, pleads with every Jew and says: I ask you, “Say before Me”—you, with your prayers, your words, your requests, and the sounding of the shofar. And through what? Through the shofar. “Make Me King over you.” You are the one who crowns Me, who awakens the desire and delight in kingship. Why, in fact, does a Jew have the power to awaken Hashem’s desire and delight in kingship? This brings us to the wonderful idea that the Baal Shem Tov and the teachings of Chassidus revealed to us: the power, the root, and the depth of a Jew. The soul of every Jew is, so to speak, engraved and rooted in Hashem—a veritable part of G-d above. “You are children of Hashem your G-d.” More than that, a Jew is rooted in an even deeper, loftier place, above creation, above the world, above kingship. A Jew is, so to speak, a veritable part of G-d above, and that is why a Jew has this power. When Rosh Hashanah arrives, the wonderful power a Jew possesses is revealed: the ability to crown Hashem and to reveal and illuminate, so to speak, His desire and delight in ruling over creation. This is the special power a Jew has on Rosh Hashanah. We see it in the verses as well. One of the special verses we say before the sounding of the shofar: it is customary in Jewish communities to recite Psalm 47 before sounding the shofar. Some say this chapter seven times. And there, in Psalm 47, is one of its wonderful, special verses: “He will choose our inheritance for us, the glory of Yaakov

19:30 whom He loves, Selah.” Before sounding the shofar, we say, “He will choose our inheritance for us.” Hakadosh Boruch Hu chooses. He chose of His own free choice. He chose the Jewish people—“our inheritance, the glory of Yaakov whom He loves, Selah.” Hakadosh Boruch Hu chose the Jewish people, and He chooses each and every Jew. And when we speak about choice, there is something very, very deep and wonderful here. “Choice”—that particular word is the one we use before sounding the shofar. What is special about it? When I say that someone chooses, it means the thing chosen does not have to be the most important thing. The choice is not tied to its importance or its special qualities. If I buy something because it is important and valuable, we would not call that choice. It is valuable, it is important, it has many fine qualities, and I took it because of those qualities. That is not called choice. Choice means: this is what I chose. Not because the thing is wonderful, but because I myself chose it of my own free will. Hakadosh Boruch Hu chooses the Jewish people not because we are something special, not because we have done good things. It is not based on all the things you have or have not done. There is the essential point of choice, which is revealed when the shofar is sounded: “He will choose our inheritance for us.” Hakadosh Boruch Hu chooses a Jew because He chose the Jewish people at the giving of the Torah. “You chose them from every nation and tongue”—of His own free choice. And that choice is awakened when the shofar is sounded, when a Jew stands with the shofar and sounds it. What is happening then? Let’s explain how this whole idea is expressed in the sounding of the shofar. What is it about sounding the shofar that awakens this point—the special power a Jew has to awaken in Hakadosh Boruch Hu the desire and delight to be King? So it is explained in the name of the Baal

21:37 Shem Tov: the wonderful power revealed when the shofar is sounded. The Baal Shem Tov says: What exactly are we doing when we sound the shofar? True, we sound a shofar for a king, to crown him. But as we said, not everyone has the ability to awaken that desire, that delight, in the king—especially when the king is in a state of withdrawal. He is not interested; he does not want it. And we need to bring everything about anew. With what power, with what ability, does a Jew do that? There is the famous parable of the Baal Shem Tov, which we’ll tell at least briefly. The Baal Shem Tov says there was a king who had an only son. The son was born in the king’s old age, and the king loved him dearly and gave him the finest education and everything he needed. The child grew up in the royal household, receiving every comfort and the most wonderful education from the best teachers and educators. At a certain point, as the child was growing older, the king said to the king’s son—excuse me, the prince—the king said to his son: It is time for me to send you on a mission so you can develop your abilities, your strengths. You cannot remain only in the royal household. You need to put your strengths to the test so you can truly discover who you are. And he sent him far away, to the other end of the country. It was distant not only physically but spiritually as well. There were lowly people living in the forest, and the king told him: Live among them and carry out your mission. Not only must you avoid being drawn into their lowliness; on the contrary, you must turn them into decent people. Make them into human beings. So he went on his mission. The king gave him everything he needed, and so on. But then, unfortunately, instead of carrying out his mission, the prince

23:33 was drawn in by the people. He began speaking their language and behaving as they did, until he became completely removed from the conduct of a prince. He even forgot his own language and dress; everything became confused. He completely forgot who and what he was. Eventually, a moment came when he remembered that he did not really belong there. He was the son of a king. A powerful feeling of regret awakened in him: What am I doing here? I want to return to my father the king’s home. But he no longer knew the way. He began searching here and there, going from place to place, until at long last he reached the capital. He came to the royal palace and stood at the king’s gate. The guards standing there looked at him and did not know who he was. He tried to speak to them, but he had already forgotten the language of the country. He did not know how to speak to them. They did not recognize him and wanted to drive him away. What could he do at that moment? The only thing he had left was a cry, a simple sound—a cry from the depths of his heart. The prince stood there and cried out. And his father the king, sitting in the royal palace on his throne, longing for his beloved son who had been lost to him, not knowing what had become of him, suddenly heard the sound and said: Wait, that is my son’s voice. The son no longer had words or explanations; his face and voice had changed, as had his behavior and clothing. But he was still my son. So the king came down himself, went to him, took his son and embraced him. He took him, cleaned him up, and brought him inside, into the innermost chambers. The Baal Shem Tov says: All of this happens when the shofar is sounded. In other words, the sound of the shofar is what happens when a Jew takes the shofar in his hand and sounds it.

25:26 Through the sound of the shofar, a Jew expresses the deepest, most inward and purest point within himself: the very fact that I am a Jew. “He will choose our inheritance for us.” Hashem’s choice of the Jewish people, and a Jew’s choice of Hashem. This choice—a Jew choosing Hashem and Hashem choosing a Jew—is the very essence of who I am as a Jew. The cry of the shofar comes from that place where human and animal are equal. You take the ram’s horn, the shofar, and blow through it, saying: Who am I, and what am I? This is not about virtues, accomplishments or importance. It is about my very essence. Hashem created me, Hashem gave me a soul, and I am literally a part of G-d above. And so this simple cry contains the deepest essence of a Jew, connecting with the very essence of Hashem. As is well known, the Baal Shem Tov would always say that in the simplicity—the utter simplicity—of a simple Jew lies the deepest simplicity of Hashem’s simplicity. This is expressed in the simple sound of the shofar. Through it we awaken in Hashem a new desire and delight to be King over the Jewish people, and through that, to be King over the world as well. From there comes a renewal of the kingdom of Heaven, a renewal of Hashem’s kingship for the entire year. So what does this mean in our straightforward service of Hashem? Let’s put it in simple words: What are we supposed to do on Rosh Hashanah? The essential point of Rosh Hashanah is crowning the King—the power a Jew has to crown the King. What does that mean in serving Hashem? Accepting the yoke of the kingdom of Heaven, kabbolas ol, for the whole year. On Rosh Hashanah, a Jew stands before Hashem with the sincerity and simplicity of a simple Jew.

27:27 “You are standing today, all of you, before Hashem your G-d.” We always read this before Rosh Hashanah, and the Alter Rebbe tells us that this verse alludes to Rosh Hashanah. “Today”—when Scripture says simply “the day,” it means Rosh Hashanah. “This day is the beginning of Your works.” “You are standing today”: on Rosh Hashanah, a Jew stands before Hashem. “All of you”: the entire Jewish people are equal. Here it is not a matter of “I am greater and you are lesser.” There are “your heads, your tribes,” and there are those “from your woodchoppers to your water drawers.” All the Jewish people, all of us as one, united together—we are one thing: Jews. The very fact that I am a Jew is everything. And the simple cry from deep in the heart is: I am a Jew, I belong to You, and therefore I accept the yoke of the kingdom of Heaven upon myself anew. This also connects with the whole idea of the Day of Judgment. What does the Day of Judgment have to do with all this? Chassidus explains that on Rosh Hashanah, the judgment concerns our kabbolas ol. A Jew says, “Our Father, our King, we have no King but You”; “Our Father, our King, reign over the entire world in Your glory.” We ask Hashem to reign over us. That is the whole essence of Rosh Hashanah. And then there is the judgment: Did we really live throughout the year with the yoke of the kingdom of Heaven? How did we observe the mitzvos during the year? Were we truly Jews, servants of the King, who served Hashem by turning away from evil and doing good throughout the year? So when Rosh Hashanah comes, the judgment asks whether a person is worthy of this. But the moment a Jew stands before Hashem with simplicity and sincerity and says, “I want You to be King, and I accept the yoke of the kingdom of Heaven upon myself anew,” that itself awakens a new desire, a new delight. Through this, all the accusations and all the judgments against

29:27 the Jewish people are nullified. The moment a Jew blows the shofar with the simplicity and sincerity that come from deep in the heart, that devotion to Hashem and renewed acceptance of the yoke of the kingdom of Heaven during the shofar blowing bring about the coronation of the King. That self-nullification of a Jew on Rosh Hashanah—giving himself over to Hashem through the blowing of the shofar—is what causes Hashem to drive away the accusers and all the judgments, and to say, “That’s it. I want to be King over the Jewish people, and I pardon and forgive them for everything.” This is why it says that on Rosh Hashanah we must not mention sins and transgressions. Rosh Hashanah is not the time to talk about the details. Rosh Hashanah is the time for a Jew to give himself over to the King. When you stand before the King, you do not speak about sins, transgressions and misdeeds. Afterward, things need to be cleaned up. The Ten Days of Teshuvah and Yom Kippur come to clean up the details that need attention from the previous year, so that we can truly begin a new year. That is the second stage. The first stage is to stand before the King, give myself over to the King and crown Him. That is the essence of teshuvah on Rosh Hashanah: to return to Hashem, crown Him King and accept the yoke of the kingdom of Heaven upon myself for the whole year. Now, as we asked earlier, what happens when Rosh Hashanah falls on Shabbos? The whole element of human effort seems to be missing. No shofar blowing? As we explained earlier, the reason Hashem chose the sixth day rather than the first day is that He wants it to come about through human beings, through our effort. Then Shabbos arrives. What happens? The Alter Rebbe explains that on Shabbos, shofar blowing is not needed, because Shabbos is a day of delight. What did we say earlier? What do we need to bring about on Rosh Hashanah? Desire and delight in Hashem’s kingship.

31:29 Shabbos, by its very nature, is a day of delight: “And you shall call Shabbos a delight.” Shabbos is the day on which Hashem’s delight and desire are revealed by Shabbos itself. Therefore, when Shabbos arrives, there is no need for shofar blowing. This does not mean that shofar blowing was prohibited merely because of Rabbah’s decree. It tells us something much deeper. When Rosh Hashanah falls on Shabbos, Shabbos itself brings this about. What do we want to bring about on Rosh Hashanah? To awaken delight and desire, so that Hashem will want to be King over us. Shabbos is entirely delight. Shabbos is a day of delight, the day on which Divine delight in the creation of the world is revealed. What does the Torah say? Concerning Shabbos, it says: “And G-d saw all that He had made, and behold, it was very good. And there was evening and there was morning, the sixth day. And the heavens and the earth and all their hosts were completed.” In Kiddush we say “the sixth day.” What comes before that? Hashem finished creating the world, and then He created man: “And He saw that it was very good.” The greatest delight was revealed as Shabbos began. “The sixth day. And the heavens were completed”—vayechulu. The Alter Rebbe explains that vayechulu is an expression of delight. Vayechulu also suggests yearning, the soul’s longing. Delight is expressed in this idea. “I have seen an end to every perfection.” The word tichlah suggests delight and desire. So, “the heavens were completed”: on Shabbos, the supernal delight, Hashem’s delight in creation, is revealed. Through blowing the shofar, we draw down delight. Shofar, too, is associated with delight—with Shifrah, who improves the newborn. “Improve your deeds.” That, too, expresses delight and sweetness. So in an ordinary year, we do this through blowing the shofar: we awaken delight—“Improve your deeds.” On Shabbos, Shabbos itself accomplishes this. The delight

33:45 The delight a Jew feels on Shabbos and the delight awakened in Hakadosh Boruch Hu on Shabbos themselves accomplish what the blowing of the shofar accomplishes. And so, because of a rabbinic decree—so that this would also accord with halacha—we do not need to blow the shofar when Rosh Hashanah falls on Shabbos. But the question remains: Where is the Jew’s avodah in all this? After all, it would seem that on Shabbos, Hakadosh Boruch Hu’s kingship is brought about by Shabbos itself. What does the person do? The Rebbe explained the answer at a farbrengen around Rosh Hashanah in 5750, when Rosh Hashanah fell on Shabbos. I had the privilege of being with the Rebbe that Tishrei, and in the days leading up to Rosh Hashanah and on Rosh Hashanah itself, the Rebbe explained this at length. He said that even when we do not blow the shofar, this too is a form of a Jew’s avodah, because when a Jew stands before the King, self-nullification is avodah. There are two ways to serve the King. One is when you are in the King’s country, far from the King, and you do what the King asks of you. That is how you serve as the King’s subject. But there is also the moment when you stand before the King. How do we serve the King then? Through self-nullification. Before the King, the avodah is not to do things. A person stands there in complete self-nullification. He does not move a finger. I am standing before the King; I am utterly nullified. And that is what awakens the greatest delight in Hakadosh Boruch Hu. When Rosh Hashanah falls on an ordinary weekday, the action is the blowing of the shofar: self-nullification through doing something. When Rosh Hashanah falls on Shabbos, a Jew’s self-nullification before Hakadosh Boruch Hu comes through the very act of

35:46 self-nullification. He does nothing. Not doing anything is not passive; on the contrary, it is an expression of such profound self-nullification. I am standing before the King of kings, Hakadosh Boruch Hu, on Shabbos, and so I do nothing. I stand in complete self-nullification, and through that I awaken Hakadosh Boruch Hu’s special delight and His desire to be King. From this come a good and sweet year and all the blessings for the year ahead. Now that we understand that Rosh Hashanah is the day we crown the King, we see that this is its center, its essence. That is the point I have been emphasizing. Rosh Hashanah is the day a Jew accepts the yoke of Heaven with joy and delight, with an expansive spirit, as the Frierdiker Rebbe says in his maamarim. The day of Rosh Hashanah is about accepting the yoke of Heaven with joy and delight. There is a story about the Tzemach Tzedek, who once went to visit a place where there were Jewish soldiers. At that time there were cantonists, Jews who had been taken into the army for many years in an attempt to distance them from Judaism. We know that they held firmly to their faith. The Tzemach Tzedek came to visit a group of cantonists shortly before Rosh Hashanah. They spoke about Rosh Hashanah, and he explained to them the avodah of teshuvah and of Rosh Hashanah. Then one of the soldiers stood up and said, “Wait. In the army they taught us that when you go to crown the king, you march with a joyful, triumphant march. That is precisely the right way to stand before the king.” The Tzemach Tzedek was deeply moved by this simple Jew’s words. He took the idea and said, “What you said is right. That is indeed how the avodah of Rosh Hashanah should be.” Crowning the King must be done with self-nullification together with tremendous joy that we have merited to be the King’s servants and that we have the privilege of crowning

37:47 Hakadosh Boruch Hu as King. Through this, Hakadosh Boruch Hu will grant each and every one of us a good inscription and sealing, a good and sweet year, a year of joy and delight. And as the Rebbe said many times, when Rosh Hashanah begins with Shabbos, the year begins with a day of rest, delight and joy. That also affects the entire year, because Rosh Hashanah is the head, and the head influences all the limbs—all the days of the year. May this truly be a year that is entirely Shabbos: a year of Shabbos, delight, pleasure and rest. And may we soon merit the day that is entirely Shabbos and rest for life everlasting.