October 28th: No’ach
THIS WEEK IN THE TORAH
Rabbi David E. Ostrich
The following is Rabbi Ostrich’s Kol Nidre D’var Torah:
When I was growing up, both of my parents were very involved in our local synagogue. Among other duties, my Dad was the choir director, and we all attended services pretty much every week. As a result, I always thought of myself as very aware of the service and its components and spiritual dynamics. I knew what was going on. And so, I was both surprised and a bit outraged when a professor at Rabbinical School said the following about the holiest part of the High Holy Day service—indeed, the holiest moment of the Jewish year. He said, “The words of Kol Nidre have very little to do with the way people experience it. In some ways, the words do not matter at all.”
The teacher was Dr. Alvin Reines, and his explanation rankled me, but I kept my ears and my mind open--and learned something. He said that the wording of the Kol Nidre is a dry legal formulation—not a particularly stirring composition--that asks that unfulfilled vows be nullified. Though the traditional Aramaic text does not speak about intentions and legitimate reasons for not fulfilling vows, most translations are more subjective than literal and add phrases to this effect. However, Dr. Reines observed, worshippers add other sensibilities to the spiritual moment, transcending the legality and creating a significant and awe-filled experience. In other words, a lot more than the words is going on.
Think about your own Kol Nidre sensibilities. We all rise. In non-COVID times, we remove the Torah Scrolls from the Ark. We chant the text three times in a time-honored and emotionally intense tune. We sing along—pronouncing the mystical words. We sense in them a sacred gathering in which the entire People of Israel—throughout the world and throughout all time—stands before our Creator, coming clean and begging for forgiveness. Our minds go in all sorts of directions. Some of us think about the places and times where our ancestors were forced to make vows of allegiance to other gods—vows they did not mean in their hearts and for which they repented at Kol Nidre. Others think of the persecutions our people experienced--the discrimination, the persecution, all kinds of attacks, and our martyrs. Some of us think more presently of the opportunities we have squandered—opportunities for goodness and charity and moral stature. Whether we focus on tragedies of our people or on the sense of coming before God or on the transgenerational gathering of our people or on the indefinable connection to our faith and our families, Kol Nidre is a profoundly expansive moment—a very holy moment.
As I wrestled with the professor’s reasoning, I remembered a curious custom in a number of Reform Temples, when the chant is preceded or followed by an instrumental rendering of the tune. Often done on cello or violin, many worshippers find this non-verbal Kol Nidre as meaningful as the chant. In other words, as Dr. Reines argued, there is a lot more to Kol Nidre than the legal proceeding; in fact, for many, the words were almost beside the point. He was not insulting the Kol Nidre moment; rather, he was explaining the mysterious and captivating dynamic of all rituals.
Consider the Shema. It is ostensibly a theological statement—that there is only One God, but there are also mystical sensibilities. Though different aspects of God, ה' and אלהינו are nonetheless parts of One God—ה' being the infinite and transcendent aspect of the Divine, and אלהינו being the immanent, knowable aspect of the Divine. But, think of all else the Shema can mean when Jews recite it. There is the history of the statement—that the words were first voiced by Moses as a reminder of our essential identity and mission. Though not exactly Biblical, the Cecil B. DeMille film of the Exodus has Moses/Charlton Heston standing in front of the assembled Hebrews and pronouncing these words as they begin their march out of Egypt. שמע ישראל “Hear, O Israel: Listen, everyone, this is the most important truth we have; it defines our identity and our purpose!” Following the legend of Rabbi Akiva’s martyrdom, Tradition teaches that these words are the last we should speak as we leave this world. In many ways, the passage is a watchword, a self-identification on a level of profound meaningfulness. Even for people who understand the Hebrew, reciting Shema can be a prayerful experience that far transcends the definitions and grammar and even theology. There is an energy when we say these words, and we can sense it even if we may have difficulty describing the experience.
Another multivalent ritual is the mitzvah of the Tzitzit, the fringes on the Tallit. The purpose of the Tzitzit is to remind us of all the mitzvot of the Lord and also our tendency to go astray. With these reminders on our clothing, we are bidden to seek a life of holiness, וִהְיִיתֶם קְדֹשִים לֵאלֹֽהֵיכֶֽם, but there is more. In the modern Jewish world, young people receive their Tallitot at Bar/Bat Mitzvah, and all the associations of family and heritage are woven into the emotional fabric. Often times, the Tallit is given by a beloved relative—or is inherited from a beloved ancestor, and the love and heritage enhance the spiritual and emotional significance of this ritual clothing far beyond its textbook meaning. The Tallit is also a sign of leadership: even at evening services where the Tallit is not worn by worshippers, Tradition calls for the leader to wear it as a sign of his/her sacred responsibility. In the ultra-Orthodox world, young men wear the Tzitzit undershirt from their toddler days on, but they receive a Tallit on their wedding day. For them, it signifies a new step in maturity and the new family they are creating. And, for all Tallit wearers, there is the spiritual world that the shawl can represent: when we wrap ourselves in the Tallit, we are creating our own personal Tabernacle of holiness—into which we invite the Divine Presence.
We could consider other rituals—like eating apples and honey on Rosh Hashanah, fasting on Yom Kippur, lighting the Chanukah Candles, making noise at Purim, and going through the Haggadah at our Passover Seders; for each one, we could reflect upon the official messages AND on the additional enhancements our tradition and experience bestow upon them.
Another one of my teachers, Rabbi Zalman Schachter-Shalomi, used to reflect on religious rituals and how they are “peak experiences domesticated.” There have been moments in our sacred history that have been astounding or inspiring or tragic in profound ways, and we seek through ritual to relive or appreciate these special times. Like watching video memories of family events, we are transported back in time to these special moments, and the energies of the occasions are rekindled. We recall the event, but the real rekindling is of the emotions and relationships represented in those events. Above and beyond the procedural details and choreography, rituals can be powerful instruments for emotional and spiritual truths, reminders of the principles and relationships that matter on the deepest of levels.
Kol Nidre, like all of the Holy Day imagery and prayers and sensibilities, is an opening for important truths—about God, about the human endeavor, about our souls. Presenting us with the imagery of appearing before the judgment throne of the Lord, it is in many ways like appearing before a deeply insightful mirror. What are we? What have we become? What opportunities have we taken? What opportunities have we let slip by? How have we conducted our families and business associations and communities? How have we been blessings, and where do we need some improvement?
My hope is that we enter fully into the rich and profound imagery of our spiritual moments, paying attention to the values and relationships they represent and taking advantage of the correction and inspiration they afford. We are partners with the Divine in the great and continuing work of Creation, and the point of the Holy Days is to remind us all of our mission and its importance— and of the sacred assembly of which we are all a part. Let us, with every ritual step, behold our sacred partners and be re-energized in our holy work.