Rosh Hashanah 5787 begins at sunset on Friday, 11 September 2026. Its first day is therefore also Shabbat, while its second day falls on Sunday. This convergence does more than alter several passages in our prayers: it gives the coming Rosh Hashanah a distinctive spiritual character.
Ordinarily, Rosh Hashanah is announced through the commanding voice of the Shofar. This year, however, the first day will be marked by silence. We shall speak of the Shofar, remember its meaning and contemplate its summons, but we shall not sound it until the second day.
That silence is not an absence. It is itself an act of obedience.
The Day of Sounding and the Remembrance of Sound
The Torah describes Rosh Hashanah in two related ways. In Bamidbar 29:1 it is called יום תרועה, Yom Teruah, a day of sounding. In Vayikra 23:24 it is called זכרון תרועה, Zichron Teruah, a remembrance of sounding.
Our Sages associate these two expressions with the two possible forms of Rosh Hashanah. When the day falls during the week, it is experienced as Yom Teruah, through the actual sounding of the Shofar. When it coincides with Shabbat, it becomes Zichron Teruah: the Shofar is remembered and invoked in prayer, but its physical voice is withheld outside the conditions established by our Sages.
The mitzvah of hearing the Shofar is commanded by the Torah. Nevertheless, our Sages decreed that it should not be sounded when Rosh Hashanah falls on Shabbat, lest someone carry it through a public domain in order to bring it to an expert who could teach him how to sound it, thereby transgressing Shabbat. The discussion appears in Rosh Hashanah 29b.
It would be misleading to describe this as our Sages casually cancelling a Torah commandment. Halakha recognises their authority, in carefully defined circumstances, to require passive abstention from a positive commandment in order to protect the Torah from active transgression. We do not violate the mitzvah of Shofar; we submit to the Torah’s own halakhic order concerning when it may be performed.
The lesson is profound. Religious enthusiasm does not permit us to decide that our preferred mitzvah outweighs the discipline of Halakha. The same obedience that ordinarily commands us to hear the Shofar now commands us to leave it untouched.
Shabbat Accomplishes What the Shofar Ordinarily Awakens
The Shofar is not merely an instrument or ceremonial announcement. Its unadorned cry penetrates beneath language. It awakens the heart to teshuvah, proclaims the Kingship of G-D and recalls the merit of the binding of Yitzchak. The Holy Zohar explains that the sounding of the Shofar awakens mercy and confounds the prosecuting forces associated with strict judgment (the Holy Zohar, Pinchas 231b–232a).
Why, then, should precisely this most powerful spiritual instrument fall silent on the first day of judgment?
The answer lies in the nature of Shabbat itself.
The Holy Zohar teaches that when Shabbat enters, the forces of judgment are restrained and peace spreads through the higher and lower worlds (the Holy Zohar, Yitro 88b). Shabbat is not merely another day upon which Rosh Hashanah happens to fall. Shabbat brings its own elevation, protection and spiritual unification. What the Shofar must ordinarily awaken from below is, in an important sense, already awakened through the holiness of Shabbat.
We might therefore say that the Shofar is not missing. Its work is being accomplished through a different spiritual vessel.
On an ordinary Rosh Hashanah, the Shofar carries our wordless cry upward. On this Rosh Hashanah, Shabbat itself carries that cry. We do not seize the horn and attempt to force open the gates. We enter the sanctuary of Shabbat and allow its holiness to speak for us.
The Merit of Restraint
There is a temptation to imagine that devotion is measured only by what we do. Yet some of the greatest expressions of faith are found in what we refrain from doing because G-D’s Torah requires restraint.
The silence of the Shofar on Shabbat declares that obedience is greater than spiritual appetite. We may long to hear its cry. We may believe that we desperately require its power. Nevertheless, we trust that the G-D Who commanded the mitzvah also entrusted our Sages with the preservation of His Torah.
Rabbeinu Moshe Alshich explains that when the Sages established this decree for the protection of Israel, they understood that the resulting obedience would itself stand in Israel’s merit. We do not lose the protection of the Shofar by honouring their ruling. On the contrary, our willingness to restrain ourselves becomes part of our defence before the Heavenly Court.
This is especially important as we enter 5787. We live in an age that celebrates impulse, individual entitlement and the belief that sincerity excuses disobedience. Rosh Hashanah on Shabbat teaches the opposite. A person does not crown G-D as King by serving Him only in the manner that feels most meaningful. We crown Him by accepting that His will, expressed through Torah and Halakha, takes precedence over our own.
A New Light for a New Year
Tanya teaches that the vitality drawn into creation is not merely recycled from one year to the next. In Iggeret HaKodesh, section 14, the Alter Rebbe explains that on each Rosh Hashanah a new and more sublime Divine light descends—one that has never previously illuminated the world in precisely that manner.
The year 5787 therefore does not begin as a repetition of 5786. It presents a spiritual possibility that has never existed before.
Because its first day is Shabbat, that new light enters through both the holiness of Rosh Hashanah and the completeness of Shabbat. Rosh Hashanah establishes the spiritual head from which the life of the entire year proceeds; Shabbat gathers creation back towards its Divine source. Their convergence invites us not merely to ask for a better year, but to become people capable of receiving a new order of holiness.
Tanya, chapter 41, teaches that Divine service must begin with an awareness that G-D stands over us and examines the heart and mind to determine whether we are serving Him properly. This is the inner reality of Rosh Hashanah. Before we ask what the coming year will bring to us, we must ask what we shall bring before the King.
The Practical Distinctions
On Friday evening, Kabbalat Shabbat is recited before Arvit. According to the widespread Sephardi practice, במה מדליקין, Bameh Madlikin, the chapter beginning “With what may one kindle?”, is omitted when Yom Tov coincides with Shabbat, although communities with an established custom to recite it may preserve their minhag.
After the Amida, מעין שבע, Me’en Sheva, the abridged repetition associated with Friday-night Arvit, is recited. Because these are the Days of Awe, we say המלך הקדוש שאין כמוהו, HaMelech HaKadosh She’en Kamohu, “the Holy King, none is like Him”, rather than HaEl HaKadosh. If one notices the mistake while still within the blessing, one returns to Magen Avot. If the blessing has already been completed, it is not repeated.
On the first day, references in the appropriate prayers reflect זכרון תרועה, Zichron Teruah, a remembrance of sounding. During Mincha, Sephardi practice following the Shulchan Aruch, Orach Chaim 598, is to recite צדקתך, Tzidkatecha, “Your righteousness”. Its words are particularly fitting on the Day of Judgment because they affirm the perfect righteousness of G-D’s judgment.
The second night begins after Shabbat has ended. We therefore insert ותודיענו, Vatodi’enu, the passage distinguishing between the holiness of Shabbat and the holiness of Yom Tov, into the Arvit Amida. If it was forgotten, the Amida is not repeated, because the distinction will subsequently be made through Kiddush and Havdala over wine. No preparation for the second day may begin before Shabbat ends, and the second-night candles must be kindled only from an existing flame.
On Sunday, the silence ends, and we hear the Shofar. Its sound may then be received with still greater intensity because we have first experienced what it means to wait for it.
What Should We Ask?
There is a recognised halakhic discussion concerning personal requests on Rosh Hashanah, made at the conclusion of the Amida, and the question becomes more sensitive when Rosh Hashanah coincides with Shabbat.
Some authorities discourage personal petitions, particularly on Shabbat, because the majesty of the day should not be narrowed into anxiety over individual needs. Others, including Rabbi Shlomo Zalman Auerbach, allow room for such requests where the need is deeply felt. Rabbi Yisrael Salanter observed that material circumstances often directly affect a person’s ability to serve G-D; asking for health, livelihood or peace may therefore be inseparable from asking for the ability to fulfil one’s purpose.
Yet even when personal requests are made, their spirit should remain consistent with the day. We do not approach G-D merely with a list of things we want. We ask for life so that we may sanctify life; for sustenance so that we may perform mitzvot and give tzedakah; for wisdom so that we may recognise truth; and for peace so that we may serve G-D without distraction.
The Sound Within the Silence
Rosh Hashanah 5787 asks us to listen before we hear.
On the first day, there will be no physical blast of the Shofar, but its meaning must sound within us. The silence asks whether we can recognise G-D’s Kingship without being stirred by an external voice. It asks whether we can awaken ourselves before the Shofar awakens us.
Then, on the second day, the Shofar will sound. Its cry will emerge from the stillness of Shabbat and carry with it the merit of our restraint, our obedience and our trust.
May the holiness of Shabbat quiet every accusation. May the remembrance of the Shofar awaken Divine mercy even before its voice is heard. May the new light of 5787 enter our homes, our communities and the whole House of Israel. And may G-D inscribe and seal us in the Book of Life, blessing us with a year of teshuvah, Torah, health, sustenance, unity and peace.
Amen.