When Rosh Hashanah Has No Shofar: the Hidden Power of Shabbos

In a special series of shiurim at Kollel Yeshurun, Rav Yissochor Dov Feldman explores the halachos and deeper significance of tekias shofar.

This year, there is a particularly fascinating dimension to the mitzvah.

The first day of Rosh Hashanah falls on Shabbos — and we will therefore not blow the shofar.

Chazal decreed that when Rosh Hashanah occurs on Shabbos, the shofar should not be blown, out of concern that someone might carry it four amos (cubits) in a reshus harabbim (public domain), thereby violating Shabbos.

At first glance, this is remarkable. The Torah itself defines Rosh Hashanah as a day of teruah — shofar blasts: “Yom teruah yihyeh lachem” and “zichron teruah.” Yet Chazal determined that because of the possibility of violating Shabbos, Klal Yisrael should refrain entirely from performing the defining mitzvah of the day.

Although the shofar will be blown on the second day of Rosh Hashanah, that day itself is mid’Rabbanan — rabbinically mandated. Thus, this year we will not perform the Torah obligation of tekias shofar.

And that leads to a fascinating — and perhaps unsettling — question.

Is a Year Without Shofar a Bad Omen?

There is a Gemara in Rosh Hashanah 16b that can sound frightening.

Rabbi Yitzchak teaches: “Kol shanah she’ein tok’in lah b’techilasah, meri’in lah b’sofah” — a year in which the shofar is not sounded at its beginning will experience adversity at its end.

Why?

“D’lo i’arvev Satan” — because the Satan was not confounded.

Some understand meri’in lah b’sofah to be from the language of ra — bad — while others understand it to be from the language of teruah, meaning that circumstances will arise in which we will have to blow shofar as part of a taanis (fast day).

It would be easy to read those words and become apprehensive about a year such as this one.

But, Rav Feldman stressed, that would be a mistake.

Tosafos explicitly state that the Gemara is not referring to a year in which Rosh Hashanah falls on Shabbos.

The Maharil, as cited by the Bach, understands the Gemara’s ominous warning as referring specifically to a situation in which the shofar was deliberately not blown. If circumstances beyond one's control prevented the mitzvah, the warning does not apply.

According to this understanding, meri’in lah b’sofah is a consequence of having neglected the mitzvah. Where there was an ones — circumstances beyond one's control — there was no willful neglect and therefore no reason for the warning to apply. Certainly, then, it does not apply when Rosh Hashanah falls on Shabbos and Chazal themselves instructed us not to blow.

Other Rishonim, however, appear to understand the Gemara very differently.

The Mordechai indicates that even where an ones prevented the shofar from being blown — for example, if the shofar was lost — the Gemara’s concern of meri’in lah b’sofah can still apply. Yet the Mordechai agrees that when Rosh Hashanah falls on Shabbos, it does not.

This requires explanation. If the person did nothing wrong — ones Rachmana patrei, the Torah exempts someone prevented from acting by circumstances beyond his control — why should there be an ominous consequence at all? And if meri’in lah b’sofah can apply even in a case of ones, why is Rosh Hashanah on Shabbos different?

What Really “Confuses” the Satan?

The answer lies in the Gemara’s own explanation: “D’lo i’arvev Satan” — because the Satan was not confounded.

To understand the Mordechai, we therefore need to understand what Chazal mean when they say that the shofar is blown k’dei l’arvev es haSatan — in order to confound the Satan.

Immediately before its ominous statement about a year in which the shofar was not blown, the Gemara discusses the additional sets of shofar blasts sounded beyond the basic Torah requirement.

Why do we blow again after already fulfilling the mitzvah?

The Gemara answers: K’dei l’arvev es haSatan — in order to confound the Satan.

But what is it about blowing additional tekios that accomplishes that?

Rashi explains that when the Satan sees Klal Yisrael displaying their love for the mitzvos, “nistam d’varav” — his words are silenced.

Klal Yisrael does not simply perform the bare minimum. We blow again. We demonstrate chibuv mitzvah — our love and enthusiasm for Hashem's commandments.

Rav Feldman cited the Gemara in Brachos in which the malachei hashareis — the ministering angels — ask Hashem how He can show special favor to Klal Yisrael when the Torah describes Him as One Who does not show favoritism.

Hashem responds: How can I not show them favor? The Torah requires Bircas Hamazon — Grace After Meals — after “v’achalta v’savata,” eating and becoming satiated, yet Klal Yisrael is stringent upon itself and bentches even after eating only a kezayis or kebeitzah — smaller quantities of food that fall short of actual satiation.

They go beyond the strict requirement.

When Klal Yisrael demonstrates an exceptional love for Hashem's mitzvos, Hashem responds with exceptional love for Klal Yisrael.

And when the Satan sees that bond, nistam d’varav. His accusations are silenced.

We can now understand the Mordechai.

When an ones prevents the shofar from being blown, it is true that there is no aveirah — transgression — that would warrant punishment for failing to perform the mitzvah. Nevertheless, b’metzius — as a practical reality — the shofar was not blown. Klal Yisrael therefore did not receive the protection generated by the irbuv haSatan, the confounding and silencing of the Satan. The Satan was not silenced and retains the ability to be mekatreg — to bring accusations against Klal Yisrael.

The meri’in lah b’sofah, according to this understanding, is therefore not a punishment for neglecting the mitzvah. It is the consequence of lacking the unique protection that the shofar provides.

But now the question becomes even stronger.

When Rosh Hashanah falls on Shabbos, we also do not blow the shofar. The reason is entirely legitimate — indeed, Chazal themselves instructed us not to blow — but b’metzius, where is the irbuv haSatan?

Why, then, does the Mordechai say that the ominous warning of meri’in lah b’sofah does not apply when Rosh Hashanah falls on Shabbos?

Sometimes Not Blowing the Shofar Says the Same Thing

Rav Ahron Kotler, zt”l, explains the extraordinary power of a Rosh Hashanah that falls on Shabbos.

Why aren't we blowing?

Because Chazal feared that somewhere, sometime, someone might inadvertently carry the shofar four amos in a reshus harabbim.

On Rosh Hashanah, people are already extraordinarily careful. Nevertheless, Klal Yisrael gives up the defining mitzvah of the day because of the concern that a Jew could eventually violate Shabbos.

There could hardly be a greater expression of chibuv mitzvah.

During an ordinary year, blowing the additional tekios declares: We love Your mitzvos so much that we want to do more than the minimum requirement.

On this Rosh Hashanah, not blowing the shofar declares: We love Your Shabbos so much that we are willing to surrender even the precious mitzvah of shofar to protect it.

The message is the same.

The additional tekios demonstrate chibuv mitzvah. And on a Rosh Hashanah that falls on Shabbos, refraining from blowing demonstrates that very same chibuv mitzvah.

The shofar may be silent, but the message that silences the Satan is still being expressed.

And therefore, the power of irbuv haSatan remains.

This also sheds light on Chazal's interpretation of the pasuk in Shir HaShirim, “Ki tovim dodecha miyayin”: “Chavivin divrei sofrim yoser mi’yeinah shel Torah” — the words of the Sages are even more precious than the “wine of Torah.”

The Torah's commandments are obligations. But the safeguards and enactments established by Chazal express our desire to remain even further from transgression. They demonstrate yedidus — a relationship of closeness and love between Klal Yisrael and Hashem.

A Rosh Hashanah on Shabbos Can Be the Greatest Year

But Rav Feldman concluded this portion of the shiur with an important qualification.

The Minchas Oni of the Aruch LaNer makes a striking historical observation.

Some of the most tragic years in Jewish history were years in which Rosh Hashanah occurred on Shabbos. He calculates that the years of the Churbanos — the destruction of the Batei Mikdash — were such years.

Yet some of the greatest years in our history were also years when Rosh Hashanah fell on Shabbos — including the year associated with Hashem's forgiveness for the Chet HaEgel (Sin of the Golden Calf), the establishment of the Mishkan, and Klal Yisrael's entrance into Eretz Yisrael.

How can the same circumstance accompany both the greatest and most devastating years?

The Aruch LaNer explains that refraining from shofar because of Shabbos can indeed serve in place of the shofar's power — but there is a condition.

It must represent a genuine love for Shabbos.

If throughout the year a Jew is careful about Hilchos Shabbos — the laws of Shabbos — including muktzah, tiltul (carrying), and the safeguards established by Chazal, then when Rosh Hashanah arrives and he refrains from blowing shofar because of the sanctity of Shabbos, that itself becomes an extraordinary zechus — source of merit.

But if throughout the year one is careless about those very safeguards, it becomes much harder to arrive on Rosh Hashanah and claim that refraining from shofar represents one's profound concern for Shabbos.

A Rosh Hashanah on Shabbos, then, carries an extraordinary opportunity.

The weeks of Elul offer a particular time to strengthen our observance of Shabbos — to learn its halachos, to become more careful about muktzah, tiltul, and the other details of the day.

Then, when Rosh Hashanah arrives and the shofar remains silent, that silence itself can speak.

It can proclaim our love for Shabbos.

And that can become our greatest zechus.

This is Part One of Toronto Scoop’s series based on Rav Yissochor Dov Feldman’s shiurim on Hilchos Tekias Shofar at Kollel Yeshurun. Part Two will begin with the fundamental halachic question: How many tekios does the Torah actually require — and how do we ultimately arrive at the 100 kolos traditionally sounded on Rosh Hashanah?