The Courage of Kol Nidre, Kol Nidre Sermon by Rabbi Denise L. Eger, October 12, 2005

Tonight we gather with solemn dignity. We gather with a bit of trepidation as the haunting strains of the Kol Nidre Prayer help to purify our souls and cleanse us of our transgressions this night. But it is good to be with one another. It is good and affirming to see one another again.

Kol Nidre is unlike any other worship experience, unlike any other time we Jews gather together. Most of the time we Jews give thanks for being together. We say –Hine mah tov umanayim—How good and pleasant it is to be together. But tonight our service began differently. We invoked the power of the heavenly court to give permission for us to pray with those who have sinned, those who have transgressed. No one person is pointed out—but we begin from a different premise than we usually do. We don’t begin with joy—simcha tonight. We begin this night with unease, with anxiety, with questions. Will our pleas be heard? Will our entreaties be accepted? Will we have enough courage to follow through with our commitments that we make tonight?

All of us have erred. All of us have transgressed and sinned. And tonight we come to confess, to atone, and to renew our souls for the New Year. We come together to get a dose of courage and hope from one another and from God.

The poignant tones of the Kol Nidre prayer capture us and carry us to another place. But the words of the Kol Nidre prayer make little sense. It is a jumble of tenses and it is hard to know whether we are seeking release from our vows of last year or release from one’s we haven’t made as of yet. Kol Nidre means—All Vows. But it is a paradox. This text has confounded the greatest rabbinic scholars. From Orthodox to Reform –Talmudic scholars and rabbis have tried to excise the Kol Nidre prayer from the service on Yom Kippur Eve precisely because the text, the words make little sense. They have tried to purge it because Jewish law and custom places great emphasis on vows and keeping one’s word. We even have an entire tractate of the Talmud dedicated to the topic of Vows - Nedarim and how to make them, how to keep them and when they can be annulled or void.

And yet despite the conflicting message, this prayer remains the most beloved of our people. Time and again throughout the years, the Jews have demanded from their rabbis and scholars that the Kol Nidre be sung and reinstated when they have tried to omit it from the evening.

Clearly there is something primal and mystical about this night—and the special prayer-Kol Nidre that gives it its name.

One reason that I believe we keep the Kol Nidre prayer intact although its logic defies us is that this entire night is a time between time; a place between worlds. The mystics taught us that this night when heaven and earth co-mingle is a dangerous time. The veil, which separates the Divine realm from the human realm, can be easily pierced. Our prayers flow toward God more easily tonight than at any other time. One reason is the melody of the Kol Nidre prayer. As the great scholar A.Z. Idelsohn put it. “ The melody tries to give expression to the emotions of the Jew as he approaches God… In the first part of the tune he expresses his contrition and plea for forgiveness. In the second part he voices his hope in the mercy of God and finishes the third part with strong confidence that God will pardon him and inscribe him in the Book of Life.”

Our Kol Nidre prayer, its very melody—helps us move from fear to faith, from anxiety to confidence. The music of Kol Nidre gives us courage to believe that God hears our story, accepts our prayers and gives us the courage to transform our souls for the New Year.

And so to be a part of this evening takes true courage. For any time we come into contact with the heavenly realm—we risk death. We risk not being able to return to our world. We risk a change.

And Yom Kippur is all about change. Changing who we are. Changing our old self into the people we want to become and that God wants us to become. Yom Kippur is about renewing our souls and spirits and choosing goodness and blessing for the year ahead. That is why tomorrow morning in our Torah service we will read the passage that reminds us –“Choose life that you and your offspring shall live. (Deut. 30:19) ” Because tonight in this eerie time between worlds, between the Divine reality and our reality, between heaven and earth, there is the possibility that we might not live. We might not be inscribed in the Book of Life. We might have to remove a piece of ourselves. We might not really face the depths of our errors. We might not come out whole again. We might not really make teshuvah—repentance.

And so coming here takes courage. It takes courage to admit our wrongs. It takes courage to admit our errors. It takes courage to face the truth about ourselves that we screwed up big time in this last year. It takes courage to face the people we love and say I am sorry—I am so sorry for hurting you—for words that rake over the skin like hot coals. It takes courage to face the people we harmed and say I am sorry for my actions that didn’t take you into account.

And it takes courage to make the changes in our behaviors that will truly matter.

Rabbi Joseph Telushkin tells the story in his Book of Jewish Values A Day to Day Guide to Ethical Living "I know a man who seldom acknowledges his errors. Whenever something bad happens to him, he invariably claims that it is either due to bad luck or is someone else's fault. Of all the people I knew, says Telushkin, he was the one for whom I felt least optimistic about the future. Since he was never to blame for any of the bad things that happened to him, there was nothing he could do to improve his increasingly unhappy life. He could only hope that he would stop having bad luck, and that other people would stop treating him unfairly or getting him into trouble.”

This man had no courage and didn’t seek it out. But tonight we have to find the strength to stop blaming others for our own errors. And this takes a tremendous amount of self-discipline and courage to accept responsibility for our actions.

Many people engage in all kinds of self-destructive behaviors. We drink too much, eat too much, and use too many drugs. We know better and yet time and again, we feel powerless to do anything but keep ourselves in the realm of adversity. We engage in all kinds of risky behaviors and relationships that will bring our lives and ourselves to the brink of ruin.

But tonight our tradition gives us a second chance. Kol Nidre is here to help you change. Help you choose better. Help you face your fears with a community that will support you. Kol Nidre is here to help you make teshuvah, to start anew with a clean slate. Kol Nidre is here to give you the courage to try it a different way in the New Year.

I see many people whose faith is so shattered and whose hopelessness and fear rule their lives. Often these are people who have walked away from our covenant. They have no sense of Shabbat. They have no sense of the holy in themselves or others. They desperately search for meaning—looking everywhere but right here at home—in the embrace of the Jewish people.

Tonight we can give one another the courage to change. By connecting to our people, our covenant with God, by reaching out to the responsibilities of tradition, you can open the door to a different way to be in the world. Tomorrow we are told in the Torah--“See I set before you this day life and prosperity, death and adversity.” (Deuteronomy 30:19). You are choosing life and prosperity by choosing to be here. And by continuing to choose this path tomorrow, next week, next month, you will be strengthening your character. You will be strengthening your storehouse of hope. You will let our covenant with God give you courage.

It is a choice every day how we live our lives. If we choose to live without hope, without direction, without higher purpose, by rejecting our covenantal responsibilities then indeed we choose a path that will be filled with difficulties. But if we choose wisely, choosing holiness, faith and yes, choosing our covenant, life can and I believe does unfold with purpose and meaning. And isn’t that the point after all? To live a life of purpose, meaning and yes, ultimately holiness.

Kol Nidre is your chance. It is my chance. Kol Nidre is the opportunity to find the courage you have been lacking. And our congregation throughout the rest of the year is the place and community that can help you meet your commitments to yourself and others with courage. Coming together at Kol Ami for other moments of prayer and community as we do tonight can give you the opportunity to tell your story to God and to seek out the courage to live a life of purpose, meaning and holiness.

I conclude with this story:

When the great Chassidic master, the Baal Shem Tov died, his disciples gathered to distribute his worldly possessions. One was given his tefillin, and another, his shtender --his lectern. One his books and another his cup.

At the end of the line, there waited one faithful Chasid. But there was nothing of worldly value left, so he was given the master's stories, and charged with the responsibility of sharing them with the world.

The Chasid was dismayed. He would much rather have received something of tangible value. But he obeyed and set out into the world to share the stories. He didn't starve. But neither did he make much of a living. After all, Jews were poor. And how much could poor Jews give for even the most enchanting of tales?

So when word came to this him that there was a Jewish nobleman in a far off land who was prepared to offer a great fortune for stories of the Baal Shem Tov, he praised God for this blessing, and set off for the nobleman's estate. Arriving Erev Shabbos, he was welcomed with great warmth and escorted directly into the magnificent banquet hall. After dinner, the nobleman and his guests turned to the Chasid and begged him to grace the evening with a story of the Baal Shem.

At that moment, his mind went blank. Not one story could penetrate the fog. Not one anecdote, not one tale. In all the years of storytelling, this had never happened. Blushing with embarrassment and stammering in fear, he apologized. "No matter!" responded the gracious host; "you are no doubt exhausted from your journey. Perhaps tomorrow you will share your stories with us!"

But the same thing happened at Sabbath lunch and again at supper. Just as he was about to begin one of his favorite stories, his mind went blank.

Embarrassed, frustrated and fearing the nobleman's disappointment, the Chasid decided it best that he steal away. But as he slipped out of the palace that night, the nobleman met him at the door. "I beg your forgiveness sir," the startled Chasid pleaded. "I know hundred of tales of the Baal Shem and his miracles, I have recited them for years, but for some reason I can remember none of them."

"Not one?" begged the nobleman, suddenly quite bereft. "Can you remember not one moment of your master's life?"

Only one remains with me. Not a story exactly. But a vague memory of a time when I was young and first began to follow the Baal Shem Tov. I was with him on Shabbat. He was distant and gloomy but would tell none of us what was the matter. As soon as the Sabbath was over, he ordered us into his wagon and we began a long trip. By morning, we entered a town renown for its vicious hatred of Jews. And this was the worst of days to visit, for this was Easter Sunday. We entered the town and found that the entire Jewish quarter was boarded up. No one would open a door to take us in. Finally we found the way into the synagogue's attic.

In this town, there was a Bishop famous for his fierce hatred of the Jews. On Easter, the Bishop would preach to the town, whipping the Christians into a killing frenzy that was let loose on the poor Jews. On that Easter Sunday morning, the master ordered me to go to the Cathedral, of all places, to tell the Bishop that the holy Baal Shem was ready to see him. I protested. I trembled in fear. I had no courage. But the master was adamant, and so I went. The Christians looked at me in wonder as trembling; I ascended the pulpit to deliver the message. When I told the Bishop that the holy Baal Shem was ready to see him, he turned and accompanied me back to the synagogue.

I don't know what happened next. The master and the Bishop spent an hour or so in private conversation. Then the Bishop emerged and returned to his pulpit in the Cathedral. All I know is that there was no riot, no killing that year. The Bishop dispersed the crowd and declared the Jewish community under his personal protection. After that, I heard that he disappeared, and has never been seen again."
At that, the Chasid turned his gaze upon his host who was weeping. "Thank you,' he stammered. Composing himself, he explained. "I was that Bishop. I was the one who sent the mobs to kill and plunder the Jews of the town. But months before that Easter, I was haunted by strange dreams. I was told that on Easter, a holy stranger would come to release me from my nightmares. It was me you summoned to the Baal Shem.

In that hour, The Baal Shem Tov revealed to me my own secrets -- that I was born a Jew, but was stolen from my mother before I could know. I was raised in the monastery, raised to hate the Jews and spread that hate. But the dreams came, and in them were visions of the hell that awaited me. I pleaded with your master -- was there no way for me to repent these terrible sins? And he showed me my only chance; To study Torah and live as a Jew; To open my doors to the poor and the homeless, and use all my resources supporting the helpless and the abandoned. This I promised to do. But how can I know, I begged him, that my repentance has been accepted? And he told me: When one comes, one who can remember none of his own stories but tells you your own story. Only then will you know that your repentance is accepted and you are again one with God. Now I am free. Thank you my friend. Your courage to tell me my story has let me know God has forgiven as I have asked."

It took courage for the Chasid to admit he could not recall any stories. It took courage for the nobleman to admit that he had been the Bishop. It takes courage for each of us to admit our errors and sins. But just as in this story—repentance is accepted—so too on this night when we have heard the chanting of the Kol Nidre prayer—we are assured our true repentance is accepted. “Adonai has said, “I have forgiven as you have asked. Vayomer Adonai Slachti kidvarecha.”

We pray this night for the courage to transform our lives and ourselves. We pray this night our repentance is accepted. We pray for Shomeir Yisrael, the Guardian of the people Israel to protect us and keep us even as we admit our wrongdoings. Guardian of Israel, Shomeir Yisrael, grant us Your forgiveness, your pardon. S’lach lanu, M’chal Lanu, Caper Lanu- And help us in this New Year live up to our responsibilities to our covenant with You.

May we go from strength to strength on this Yom Kippur and may we find the courage to make the changes in our lives that matter.

Ken Yehi Ratzon.

Posted by Lee at October 16, 2005 09:47 AM