A Call to Responsibility and Renewal

This past week, as Rosh Hashanah approached, I had the opportunity to attend morning services at ASBI while visiting my daughter and grandchildren in Lakeview. The synagogue buzzed with the anticipation of the High Holidays, a time when we’re all called to reflect on the past year, take responsibility for our actions, and look ahead with hope. The service began like any other—prayers murmured in unison, the familiar rustle of prayer shawls, and the rhythmic cadence of the liturgy. What struck me, however, was the presence of a group of young women. Their devotion was palpable, their focus unwavering, and their commitment to the service undeniable.

But as the service came to a close, something entirely unexpected happened.

A young woman stepped forward. Her movements were deliberate and confident. In her hands, she held a shofar (שופר), the very instrument that signals the arrival of Rosh Hashanah and awakens the soul. I watched as she lifted it to her lips and let out three sharp, clear blasts that rang through the synagogue, cutting through the silence with the unmistakable sound of tradition.

I had never seen a woman blow the shofar before. It was a striking moment, not because it seemed out of place, but because it seemed so natural—an expansion of the many responsible roles I’ve seen women take on in Jewish life. From leading families to supporting communities, women have always carried a significant weight in preserving and nurturing our traditions. Still, witnessing this moment was a reminder that, even in the heart of our most ancient practices, there is room for evolution and growth.

What was even more striking was the way we continued without pause. We moved seamlessly into L’David Hashem Ori (לדוד ה’ אורי), the Psalm of Elul. The familiar words—“The Lord is my light and my salvation; whom shall I fear?” (ה’ אורי וישעי ממי אירא)—echoed through the room, interwoven with the memory of the shofar’s call. The past and present had collided, but not in a disruptive way. Instead, they harmonized, creating something that felt both timeless and new.

This moment of reflection also reminded me of the miracles we’ve recently witnessed in Israel, where I live. Amidst the chaos of war, we’ve seen the immense sacrifices of our young people—those who stand on the frontlines, protecting our land with unimaginable courage and dedication. We live in a time when Iran’s missiles—and the deep-seated hatred of our enemies—constantly loom over us, threatening the very essence of our existence. And yet, in this same moment, we are witnessing an unprecedented admiration for Israel from nations and individuals we never imagined. It is as though love and hatred for us are appearing simultaneously across the globe, a surreal contrast that forces us to pause and reflect on our unique role in the world.

These events are no coincidence. They are a call to responsibility—achrayut (אחריות)—a reminder that the Jewish people bear a tremendous weight in the unfolding of history. Our response to these challenges, both as individuals and as a nation, matters more than ever.

Living in Jerusalem, I feel this responsibility keenly. The connection to our land and the sacrifices made by so many are not distant realities but daily experiences. And for those of us who live in Israel, this responsibility is not only to ourselves but to the Jewish people everywhere. We are the guardians of a mission that belongs to all Jews, wherever they may be.

Rosh Hashanah is a time of both reflection and renewal. It’s a moment when we are called to take responsibility for our actions, to turn inward and commit to bettering ourselves in the coming year. And that morning, the sound of the shofar blown by a woman echoed this theme of responsibility. It was a stark reminder that, regardless of our gender or role within the community, we each carry the weight of tradition and the duty to engage with it.

Each of us, no matter our station, is responsible for our role in Jewish life. The act of blowing the shofar—an act that has historically been male-dominated—was here in the hands of a woman, and yet its significance, its power, remained unchanged. In that moment, the call to responsibility was clear. We are all stewards of our traditions, and the way we respond to their call—whether through the shofar blasts, our prayers, or our deeds—defines our role in carrying them forward.

As we approach the New Year, the lessons of that morning resonate even deeper. Rosh Hashanah calls us to take stock of our lives, to seek out ways to improve, and to recognize our individual and collective responsibilities. It reminds us that we each play a part in the continuation of our heritage. Whether in the synagogue, at home, or in our broader communities, we are all tasked with sustaining, enriching, and evolving our traditions.

And beyond our personal responsibilities, we are reminded of the broader, collective responsibility we carry as part of the Jewish people. The sacrifices being made in Israel, the threats we face, and the global attention—both positive and negative—that we receive, all point to a deeper truth: that we are a people with a mission, and that mission demands commitment, resilience, and a readiness to confront the challenges that come our way.

Leaving ASBI that day, I felt a deep sense of gratitude for having witnessed this moment of transformation. It was a reminder that our heritage is not static. It is alive, shaped by the voices of each new generation, by those willing to engage with it deeply and meaningfully. The sound of that shofar, blown by a young woman, embodied the spirit of Rosh Hashanah: the call to reflect, the commitment to renew, and the responsibility to carry forward our rich, dynamic legacy.

As we enter the New Year, may we all heed the shofar’s call. May we take responsibility (achrayut, אחריות) for our actions, our roles, and our traditions. And may we move forward with hope and purpose, ensuring that the melodies of our heritage—and the resilience of our people—continue to resonate for generations to come.