Understanding Why We Sing So Much on the Yom HaDin
Just before blowing the shofar on Rosh Hashanah, we recite Perek 47 of Tehillim, in which Dovid writes: עלה אלקים בתרועה ד' בקול שופר זמרו אלקים זמרו זמרו למלכנו זמרו כי מלך כל הארץ אלקים זמרו משכיל - "G-d has ascended with the teruah; Hashem, with the sound of the shofar. Sing to G-d, sing; sing to our King, sing. For G-d is King of all the earth; sing, enlightened one.” Dovid appears to link blowing the shofar to singing, which is difficult to understand, as singing is normally an expression of joy, while the teruah represents cries of pain.
Additionally, as Dovid appears to advise, the incorporation of singing into the Rosh Hashanah liturgy has become almost universal, which seems inconsistent with the somber nature of the day. If a defendant accused of a capital crime began singing on the witness stand while testifying in his defense, his brazen disrespect for the decorum of the courtroom would certainly not elicit compassion and clemency from the judge. Why then do we permit ourselves to indulge in singing as we beseech Hashem for mercy on the Day of Judgment?
Rav Moshe Nosson Nota Jungreis, who was the Rav of Tiso-Fired in Hungary gives a beautiful mashal [parable] to answer these questions. There once was a king whose only son suffered a nervous breakdown. This caused the king tremendous pain, so he sent his son to the best medical facility in the world to be treated and cured. Although the cost was exorbitant, money was no object to the king, whose sole focus was to get his son back to normal.
Little by little, the prince made progress, and after several months, he wrote a letter telling his father that he was cured and expressing his desire to return home. He gave the letter to the chief psychiatrist and asked him to mail it to the king. The doctor understood that if he allowed his prized patient to leave, his income stream would dry up, so he tore up the letter and threw it in the garbage.
When several weeks went by and the king did not come for him, the son assumed that his letter was lost in the mail, so he wrote a new one, but the physician just threw it away, as he also did with the third and fourth letters the prince wrote begging his father to free him from the institution and bring him home. Eventually, the son understood that his letters did not all get lost, and the real reason his father did not come was that the psychiatrist was not mailing his letters, so he devised a clever plan to get past the doctor's interference.
The prince took a piece of paper and scribbled all over it, but amidst the seemingly unintelligible drawings, he hid a series of letters that combined to form a message to his father. When the physician saw this latest “communication,” he was ecstatic, for when the king would receive it, he would conclude that his son was still in need of additional comprehensive therapy. Indeed, when the king received the letter and excitedly opened it, he began to cry when he saw that after so many months of no communication, the first letter his son could compose consisted of incomprehensible doodles.
Just as the king was about to throw it away, he noticed a letter concealed in the middle of the scribbles, followed by a second letter and then a third. After scrutinizing the entire page, he assembled his son's hidden message: “Dad, I am fully cured and miss you terribly. Please come quickly and get me out of here." The king jubilantly went to pick up his healthy son and brought him back to the royal palace.
The Gemara (Rosh Hashanah 16a-b) says that we blow the shofar twice, before Mussaf and again during Mussaf, to confuse the Satan. Just as the doctor prevented his patient's letters from reaching his father, the accusing angel also tries to block our entreaties on Rosh Hashanah from reaching Hashem. To circumvent their efforts, Rav Jungreis suggests that we emulate the prince in the mashal by singing our prayers. When the prosecuting angels see us singing at a time when the Books of Life and Death are open, they assume that we have lost our minds and gladly allow our prayers to ascend to Hashem's Throne of Glory, hoping that He will judge us harshly for our lack of trepidation at such a critical time.
Just like the king, Hashem carefully examines our songs and discovers the sincere prayers that they conceal, which move Him to respond like a loving Father Who rejoices over our calls to reunite. Because our multiple shofar blasts and our Rosh Hashanah songs both serve to trick the Satan, Dovid links them together and alludes to this rationale by concluding זמרו משביל – sing shrewdly. (R' Ozer Alport)
