Later in history, the custom developed to sound another forty blasts to reach the number one hundred, which, according to our tradition, are the number of tears shed by the mother of Sisra (the Jewish archenemy in the time of Devorah Ha’Neviah), when he was slain in battle, thus accentuating the heart-rending cries that the shofar blasts are to engender.

Rabbeinu Hai Gaon (939-1038) expresses his dismay at Rebbi Avahu’s institution. He questions how the custom of blowing the shofar, which is performed every year, publicly, as the focal point of Rosh Hashanah, could have been forgotten. He thus explains that all three interpretations (‘teruah,’ ‘shevarim,’ and ‘shevarim-teruah’) are all valid forms of the mitzvah performance; however, Rebbi Avahu wanted symmetry amongst all the Jewish people such that each community would perform this celebrated mitzvah uniformly. The Rambam disputes this interpretation of Rabbeinu Hai Gaon and asserts that Rebbi Avahu’s institution was, in fact, to ensure each community’s proper performance of the mitzvah of shofar.

From the historical backdrop of the shofar, it is clear that whether one sides with Rabbeinu Hai Gaon or the Rambam, on Rosh Hashanah, the Jewish people are looking to perform the mitzvah of shofar in the most inclusive of ways. This is because the shofar is a tool of prayer, and on Rosh Hashanah, whose essence is a day of prayer, we want to utilize the tool of prayer to our advantage in any and all fashions.

It is for this reason that the haftorah for the first day of Rosh Hashanah is the story of Channah and the Torah reading for the first day of Yom Tov is the story of Yitzchak’s birth. Both episodes only transpired due to the unfathomable impact of prayer. From any angle we choose to look, prayer is clearly the modus operandi of Rosh Hashanah.

The shofar’s essence as a tool of prayer and Rosh Hashanah’s essence as a day of prayer also explains the reason that we sound the tekiah gedolah after every set of Shofar blasts. Prayer is never supposed to end. For this reason, we sing Adon Olam at the end of Shabbat morning davening, to show that just as we think that davening is over (and Kiddush is ready), davening still continues. So too with the ‘tekiah gedolah.’ The number one hundred is too finite. The shofar is supposed to transcend parameters and boundaries, and thus we extend the final shofar blast, to show that the shofar and its prayer continue, even beyond the final sound.

May the words of our tefillot and the sounds of our shofarot endure well-beyond our Yamim Noraim season, permeating our year and shaping our lives.

With best wishes for a K’tiva V’Chatima Tova, 

Rabbi David Wilensky