In 1974, a new apparition began to make its appearance in the streets of Manhattan. Even in that hubbub of crowd and clamor, this strange vehicle attracted attention. It was a standard van of the “U-Haul” or “Ryder” variety. It’s back door was rolled up, showing a cargo of one large wooden table, two wooden benches, and a dozen young men with beards and black hats. From a loudspeaker taped to its roof issued forth a medley of Chassidic songs played on high volume—that is, high enough to make itself heard above the din of a Manhattan street corner. Large posters taped to the sides of the moving van proclaimed: “MITZVAH TANK”, “Teffilin on board” and “Mitzvot On The Spot For People On The Go.”
The sound of the shofar
is not the cry of a human voice.
It is the howl of an animal’s horn.
It is a cry so primal, so raw,
that the mind ceases to ponder,
the heart suspends its throb.
With the fury of a beast pent up in its cage,
the naked essence of the soul bursts out,
howling, ripping through heaven’s curtains,
awakening the primal essence of all being.
The raw core of your soul below
touches the Primal Essence above,
and now their reunion may begin.
