These are the words I shared with B'nai El Congregation on Kol Nidre 5770. Please feel free to e-mail me with comments and feedback.
We have gathered tonight for what many, for good reason, consider the most sacred night of year for us as the Jewish people. The music, the liturgy, the ceremony and the amount of people in attendance all combine to give this night a feel that is not like other nights (to borrow a phrase from a different holiday). We of course come to the synagogue on this night expecting such things, as we are all aware of the basic meaning of this day, Yom Kippur, the Day of Atonement for our sins.
10 days ago, on the evening of Rosh Hashanah, I spoke about how we were approaching these days a bit differently than in the recent past. While we have been used to worrying about Israel and its own internal and external challenges, for the first time in a long time, we share some of those same concerns, in a very personal way, about our own nation. This is true no matter where we fall on the political spectrum, no matter who we may feel is at fault for the current predicaments in our nation, or what we feel the solutions are, I feel confident in saying that few, if any of us, feel good about where we are as a society at this moment.
This is true whether you find yourself in a secure position personally, or whether you have intimately felt the pain and struggle of the current situation. Therefore, as we come together this evening and during the day tomorrow, we can take advantage of this opportunity that our gathering gives us to seek strength, find our center in our community and yes, to use a common phrase of our Christian friends, to pray on it a little.
As on Rosh HaShanah, our unique liturgy of the day gives us that opportunity in a way we don’t have on other days. I spoke then about the comfort of considering God as Avinu, our Father, and the sense of order we can discern when we speak of God as Malkeinu, our King. I spoke of how we can use the liturgy of the Shofar service and the sound of the Shofar to awaken our souls to face the challenges of today on behalf of ourselves and others. I spoke of how our music can uplift our spirits, reminding us of the sacred opportunities that this day brings.
Tonight too, I will speak about some of the unique liturgical opportunities and challenges that Yom Kippur presents for us, prayers that in the Reform movement especially, are unique to this one day of the year.
Unlike on Rosh HaShanah, where we call the evening service just that, the evening service, the service we’ve come to tonight has a special name, Kol Nidre. Calling the service by the name of this prayer correctly implies that it is a central part of the service. So what is it about this prayer, Kol Nidre that it not only is used to name this service, but it includes the special ceremony of bringing the Torah scrolls out of the Ark and repeating it three times(once we said it together in English, then Dan sang it, then Sylvian played it)?
The Kol Nidre, technically is not a prayer, but it is a legal formula in the Aramaic language, the spoken language of Jews during the Roman period and the legal language of Jews through the Middle ages. While it appears this legal formula originated in earlier times, the use of it as part of the Yom Kippur liturgy seems to have come during 15th and 16th century among Jews who had been forced, upon pain of death, to convert to Christianity, especially those from the Iberian peninsula.
This formula basically reflects the seriousness with which Judaism took vows, even those made under duress or in haste. The prime example of this is in the Book of Judges when Jephatath vows to God that if he comes out of a certain precarious battle alive he will sacrifice whatever comes to greet him from his house, thinking an animal will come out first. Almost predictably it is his daughter who comes to greet him. While the text is not explicit it gives us no reason to believe that the story concludes in any other way but with Jephatath sacrificing his daughter.
Therefore the ancient rabbis put together this formula of the Kol Nidre asking us to be absolved of those vows that we either make in haste, under duress or tried sincerely to keep but could not. In some texts the Kol Nidre absolved us of those promises made from last year until now; in our text, as has become normative in Judaism, we ask to be absolved of such vows from now until next Yom Kippur.
Unfortunately, among those who have been against the Jews, and even sometimes among our own, the meaning of Kol Nidre was perverted to suggest that Jews are untrustworthy. Even within the Reform movement, this concern existed and in every edition of the Union Prayerbook until the 1960 edition, Kol Nidre was excluded (with the exception of the first printing of the 1945 edition, where the Kol Nidre was included because of disagreement within the committee. It was excised for further printings).
Of course this legal formula is part of all Jewish liturgies now because we understand that what is important is not how others perceive a prayer, but rather how the prayer functions for us. Clearly it is not a legal formula that absolves us of any and every vow, but as I have said only those vows made in haste or under duress along with those we sincerely tried to keep but could not (for example the dieter who vowed to lose 40 lbs, but after sincere effort only lost 30).
But ultimately, a reexamination of the meaning of the prayer is not the reason it is such a powerful piece of liturgy in the modern day. Rather that reason is linked to the music. The melody we heard tonight is one of a few melodies in Judaism that is legitimately considered a “mi Sinai” melody – that is handed down at Mt. Sinai melody. While that is not a literal truth, this melody is part of a group of melodies for which we have no known author and written music of the melody stretches back as far as such things go. Even our seemingly timeless melody for the Shema only dates back to the late 19th century when Solomon Sulzer wrote it.
It is the music that lends to the words of Kol Nidre a special sense of authenticity. Not only then do the words express to God and to ourselves a need to ask for release from certain types of vows, but when combined with the music and the ceremony, the whole atmosphere surrounding Kol Nidre connects us in a unique way to Jews of al types, in all countries, and even in all times. Like no other piece of our liturgy, Kol Nidre speaks to our unity as the Jewish people and the strength that we draw from that unity.
This past winter many of you were contacted for a congregational survey. If you were called (it was a random selection) you were asked about your thoughts on services, including the High Holy Day services. When both the quantitative and qualitative results were presented to me, one comment stood out as a bit interesting. Now I have no idea who made this comment, I don’t even know who took the survey and who did not except among those who have volunteered such information about themselves to me. The comment was about the Yom Kippur service, and really questioned why there is so much focus on the confessions. Basically the unidentified individual (who I would prefer to stay unidentified even if you are here tonight) was saying, isn’t once enough?
The simple answer to that question is, no. But to answer that way is to cheapen the concern of that individual, so I will go deeper than that. We do have a lot of confessionals on the high Holy Days, the Hebrew term being Vidui. Those who came for the Selichot service a couple weeks ago participated in one, we had one tonight, we will have an extended one tomorrow morning, including some preparatory meditations, we will have vidui during our Afternoon service and then again a shorter one during our Ne’ilah concluding service.
So why do we do this, why isn’t once enough? Yom Kippur, as the Day of Atonement is a day on which we afflict our souls. The major part of that affliction is our fast, for those who are physically able to do so. When we said vidui tonight, we were still likely satisfied from our pre-Yom Kippur meal. Even tomorrow morning, when the only meal we’ve really missed is breakfast (and late night ice cream for some of us), we will recite the Vidui again. But that time, we will be a bit hungry, maybe a little tired, and the words, coming at us for a second time, may have a sense of urgency that they did not have before.
By the afternoon services, our defenses may have worn down, and we might actually consider the words we are saying and how, when we have completed our fast, we may work to make sure that we will have less to confess for next year than this year. By the concluding, Ne’ila, service, our bodies have grown tired and as we repeat the words again, we may, then truly seek forgiveness for the words that apply to the actions or lack thereof, for which we were guilty in the past year. Even for those who cannot fast, the repetition of this confessional still has the ability work its way deeper into our souls as the day grows long.
Ultimately the repetition of Vidui, combined with our fast, is a way of wearing us down and giving us the opportunity to submit our will to God’s. We don’t often talk about submission to God’s will as Jews, but it is part of our religious culture. While the Muslims make submission central, we focus more on the religious idea of sanctification (and the Christians focus on the idea of Salvation, something present, but not primary within Judaism and Islam as well, just as both Christianity and Islam have elements of Sactification). Yom Kippur, however is the day on which, by making an effort to submit our will to God’s will, however we understand it, we can truly commit ourselves to reducing the negative behaviors and patterns in our lives that lead us to what we call sin.
Therefore, the repetition of Vidui is a necessary and important part of our Yom Kippur liturgy. Is it uplifting? Not if you only skim the words and don’t identify yourself within the words. But when the words penetrate past your intellect and into your soul and lead you to make positive changes in your life, then it is as uplifting and as sanctifying as any prayer that we have in Jewish liturgy.
While there are many more unique and uplifting possibilities in our Yom Kippur liturgy including our Yizkor service and concluding service, certain passages of our Torah service and even additional prayers that are a part of tonight’s service, I only have time to look at one more unique piece of liturgy for this day. I’d like to turn your attention to a service that is unique to B’nai El: Our Music and Meditation Service.
This service, which will take place immediately following tomorrow’s Yizkor service, is a special gift to B’nai El from the Goldberg family of Norman, Ruth, Marcia and Warren in memory of their dear son and brother Marc. During this service we are privileged to enjoy music presented by members of the St. Louis Symphony orchestra, including Warren Goldberg. Interspersed between the musical selections, are readings chosen by Marcia Goldberg and presented by members of the congregation.
Obviously this is not a traditional part of the Yom Kippur liturgy. I will also admit that when I first came to B’nai El, six High Holy Days ago, I was unsure of why this was a part of the Yom Kippur observance when there is so much liturgy that is already a traditional part of the day. It only took me one time to understand why this has become such a beloved part of the B’nai El Yom Kippur tradition. Between the sensitive readings and the beautiful music, it allows those who choose to be a part of it a chance to reflect on the themes of the day, to really sit quietly and not in conversation to ponder, to pray, to meditate in a way that is different from all of the other services of the day.
In many ways, it is this service that brings together the traditional liturgy with the themes and emotions of the day in a way that is unique and allows each individual to experience it in a unique way. Its placement in the afternoon, similar to the confessional prayers of the late afternoon, gives us a chance to process the day, a chance to seek the strength that we need to truly make a change in our lives, and brings us together with our community so that we may serve as strength to one another.
Our liturgy on these Days of Awe has within it the power to heal, the power to bring us together as one community and the power to truly transform our souls. But this power, this energy is only potential energy. The prayers alone, read without consideration, listened to but not heard, glossed over as a formality, are as useful as a full tank of gasoline in a car that has no engine, it simply remains a potential, unfulfilled in purpose.
It is up to us as a community and up to each of us individually to release the potential energy with our prayers and to turn them into a driving force that propels us forward as individuals and forward as a community. The experiences, emotions and feelings we each bring to the prayers when we properly approach them are the catalysts for making that energy real.
The power of prayer, then, is not found only in the words, it is not transmitted only through the music, it is not spread out through our community simply by being here. The true power of prayer comes when we all, as a community, use the words, the music and our surroundings to allow prayer to infuse our souls, to strengthen our bonds with our community, to serve as a path for us each to strive toward the sanctification of our lives as lives dedicated to fulfilling, the best that we can, our role as unique individuals made in the image of God.
