Elul Day 18

Dear Elul Writers,

Today we mark the 18th day of Elul, chai Elul. This day is celebrated by Chasidim, neo-Chasidim, the Chasidic-adjacent and the Chasid-curious because it marks the birth date of the Baal Shem Tov, the founding teacher of the 18th-century, Chasidic revival movement in Eastern Europe. The Baal Shem Tov (or BeShT) was an itinerant healer, rabbi, storyteller and awesome mystic. He inspired generations of students and followers who were moved by the notion that we might live our lives with a mindset that all of the world is filled by the Divine Immanence.

So, what better way to celebrate than with a tale from the BeShT, himself:

Once there was a powerful queen who had a beloved child. Out of love for the child, the queen wanted him to see the world, to experience different cultures, and to be educated by living beyond her borders. So, she sent him to a far-off country, supplied with a generous quantity of silver and gold. Yet, far from home, the child squandered his resources, fell on hard times and for many years suffered the pains of this world. Finally, in his distress he resolved to return to his mother's house and, after much difficulty and even more time, he managed to arrive at the gate of the courtyard to the great queen’s palace. 

But, in the passage of time, he had actually forgotten the language of his native country, and he was unable to identify himself to the guards. In utter despair he began to cry out in a long, loud wail. The queen, recognizing the voice of her son, went out to him and brought him into her house, hugging and kissing him, comforting him.

I return to this parable about the shofar nearly every year. I can’t think of a more powerful metaphor for the shofar than the inarticulate cry of child to parent:

“Hear me.” 
“Come and greet me in my return.”
“Recognize my voice.”
“Open your gates.”

Prompt

There is rarely a year that goes by when we don’t feel some estrangement. We feel distant from ourselves, from family or community, far from the Holy One of Blessing. What if the call of the shofar was simply a cry for reconnection? Perhaps you are a long way from where you started or where you hope to be, what would return feel like? What longing do you hold this year, hard to articulate in words, that might be communicated in the cry of the shofar? 

BeShT wishes*,
Jordan

*please forgive me.