Mitzvah to blow the Shofar on Yovel

Parshas Bahar

Mitzvah to blow the Shofar on Yovel

On Yom Kippur, at the start of the Yovel year, we are commanded to publicly blow the Shofar. This marks the culmination of the calendar cycle. When we are on our own land, we are commanded to keep every seventh year as the Shmittah year, and then at the completion of seven Shmittos, to add an additional Shmittah year – the Yovel. Not only does the land lay fallow during Yovel, homesteads return to their original owners, and all Jewish slaves are freed.

Why we blow the Shofar on Yovel

The Sefer HaChinuch explains that the reason the Torah commands us to blow the Shofar on Yovel is that freeing a slave is a very difficult mitzvah and the slave owners need chizuk. It may well be that a master had a slave for many years and became dependent upon him. He would find it hard to part with his servant. By sounding the Shofar, we are publicly proclaiming that it is Yovel, and all Jews will be freeing their slaves. The master will then recognize that throughout the Land of Israel, everyone is freeing their slaves, and so it will be easier for him to free his own slave.

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Rebuke - The malpractice of a Mitzvah

ספר ויקרא פרק יט
(יז) לא תשנא את אחיך בלבבך הוכח תוכיח את עמיתך ולא תשא עליו חטא:
Do not hate your brother in your heart, rebuke your nation, and do not carry his sin
תרגום אונקלוס על ויקרא פרק יט פסוק יז
(יז) לא תשני ית אחוך בלבך אוכחא תוכח ית חברך ולא תקבל על דליה חובא:
Do not hate your brother in your heart, rebuke your friend, and do not receive a punishment for his sin. (See the Ramban on this posuk.)

Why should I be punished for your sin
When the Torah mentions the obligation to rebuke a fellow Jew, it ends with the words, “and do not carry his sin.” The Targum translates this as, “And do not receive a punishment for his sin.”
According to the Targum, it appears that if Reuvain ate a ham sandwich and I didn’t rebuke him, I would be punished for his sin. Why should this be? At most, you might argue that if I was capable of rebuking him and didn’t, I would be responsible for the sin of not rebuking him. But how do I become responsible for the sin that he perpetrated? He transgressed it; I didn’t.
One nation, one people
The answer to this question is based on understanding the connection that one Jew has to another.
The Kli Yakir brings a Moshol. Imagine a man on an ocean voyage. He hears a strange rattling sound in the cabin next to him. As the noise continues, he becomes more and more curious, until finally, he knocks on his neighbor’s door. When the door opens, he sees that his neighbor is drilling a hole in the side of the boat.

“What are you doing?” the man cries.

“Oh, I am drilling,” the neighbor answers simply.

“Drilling?”

“Yes, I’m drilling a hole in my side of the boat.”

“Stop that,” the man will say.

“But why?” asks the neighbor. “This is my cabin. I paid for it, and I can do what I want here.”

“No, you can’t,” the man replies. “If you cut a hole in your side, the entire boat will go down.”

The nimshol is that the Jewish people is one entity. For a Jew to say “What I do is my business and doesn’t affect anyone else,” is categorically false. My actions affect you, and your actions affect me — we are one unit. It is as if I have co-signed on your loan. If you default on your payments, the bank will come after me. I didn’t borrow the money — but I am responsible. So too, when we accepted the Torah together on Har Sinai, we became one unit, functioning as one people. If you default on your obligations, they come to me and demand payment. We are teammates, and I am responsible for your performance.
The Targum is teaching us the extent of that connection. What Reuvain does directly affects me — not because I am nosy or a busybody, but because we are one entity — so much so that I am liable for what he does. If he sins and I could have prevented it, that comes back to me. A member of my team transgressed, and I could have stopped it from happening. If I did all that I could have to help him grow and shield him from falling, I have met my obligation and will not be punished. If, however, I could have been more concerned for his betterment and more involved in helping to protect him from harm and didn’t, then I am held accountable for his sin.
Don’t rebuke others– it doesn’t work
This perspective is central to understanding why rebuke doesn’t work.
When Revain goes over to Shimon and “gives it to him good”, really shows just what he has done wrong, the only thing accomplished is that now Shimon also hates Reuvain.
To properly fulfill the mitzvah of Tochacha there are two absolute requirements. The first is in regards to attitude, and the second relates to method.
What is my intention?
When I go over to my friend to chastise him, the first question I must ask myself is, “What is my intention?”
If my intention is to set him straight and stop him from doing a terrible sin, then I will almost certainly fail. The only intention that fits the role of a successful mochiah is: “This is my friend; I am concerned for his good.”
If I am looking out for Kavod Shmayaim, or if I am a do-gooder concerned for the betterment of the world, then my words will accomplish the exact opposite of their intended purpose. I won’t succeed in separating my friend from the sin; I will only succeed in separating him from me. The first requirement for the proper fulfillment of Tochacha is that it must be out of love and concern for my friend.
Do you shout when you put on tefillin?
The Chofetz Chaim was once approached by a certain community leader who complained that no matter how much he reproached the people of his town, they didn’t listen. The Chofetz Chaim asked this person to describe how he went about rebuking his townspeople. The man described his method of yelling fiery words at them. The Chofetz Chaim asked him, “Tell me, when you put on Tefillin, do you shout and carry on?” “Then why do you feel the obligation to do so when you do this mitzvah?”
One of the most basic concepts of human relations is that people hate criticism. We hate it worse than poison, and we avoid it like the plague. When you criticize me, I am hypersensitive. If you whisper, I hear it as loud speech, and when you speak quietly, I hear it as if you are shouting in my ears. Being ever aware of this is critical in choosing the method, tone, and words with which I approach my friend. The mitzvah of Tochacha is to help my friend improve. Without a strategy that is sensitive to human nature, even the best of intentions will backfire. To succeed in this mitzvah, I need to choose my words very carefully, making sure that they are as soft and non-offensive possible. This is the second requirement of the Mitzvah.
Out of concern and love
The reality is that this is a very difficult mitzvah to perform correctly. Typically, we find ourselves either not wanting to get involved or saying things that cause more harm than good. If the driving force in doing this mitzvah is concern for the good of our friends, and we carefully study human nature and choose our words guardedly, HASHEM will help us to perform this Mitzvah properly.

For more on this topic please listen to Shmuz #53 – I’m Never Wrong