Kol Nidre 2008

Meyer Shwarzstein

Every year, as we’re about to utter Kol Nidre, I wonder about why we say these words at the beginning of our most solemn holiday. I have several questions.

First of all, why do we start Yom Kippur with it?

It’s a legal pronouncement and, according to Jewish law, legal pronouncements need to be made in a court, and, since courts can only be convened during the day, we have to say it before nightfall. Technically, that’s why we say it at the beginning – and we actually set up a courtroom. We bring the sifrei Torah out of the ark and 3 of our fellow congregants will symbolize the judges of a beit din, a Jewish court.

Actually, according to the rabbis, we actually stand in two courts - b’shivah shall matah, the court before humankind, and b’shiva shel maalah, the court above before God.

Why do we say it 3 times? I have my own notion about this. Every Kol Nidre, I’m aware of the 2 courts, but also feel as though I’m standing in a 3 rd court – one where I stand in trial of myself. I review my own actions during the last year and consider my own testimony.

I have two more notions about this. Tradition holds that Kol Nidre releases us from vows we make to God; but not to man. Maybe during the second and third time, we are to consider the promises we’ve made to others and to ourselves. Promises are considered very seriously in our tradition. So much so that a whole tractate of the Talmud deals with them, and the punishments are perceived to be very severe. We’re taught to avoid vows altogether – that’s why Jews don’t say, “I solemnly swear” when they take the stand but say instead, “I affirm”. It also avoids the need for an appropriate bible.

We also have 3 kinds of commitments – one’s we’ve made in the past, obligations we’re living with now, and we have an opportunity to consider how we’ll treat our assurances we’ll make in the future.

The traditional reason is very straightforward. It’s difficult to approach God and it just takes time. There’s another example of this in our tradition. Before we say the Amidah, we take 3 steps backward while uttering a short phrase; “Oh lord, open my lips so my mouth may declare your praise.” As we are about to say the Amidah, the central prayer in all of our services, we are tentative – like ones who stand outside a king’s chambers and are daring to approach with our petitions, our requests. As Yom Kippur begins, we also say a phrase that forces us to reflect upon our own words.

My last question has to do with the words themselves. The Kol Nidre isn’t a prayer – it isn’t even in Hebrew, it’s in Aramaic. And yet we have come to call the entire evening service by its name.

Imagine that Yom Kippur is a building and Kol Nidre is the entrance to that building. After all, in Judaism, times are held sacred more than places – and as we enter a holiday, it is as if we’re entering a different physical domain.

Imagine that we are standing outside, about to ring the bell of the door of someone important, someone we want to impress. We may adjust our hair, button our jackets, and review in our mind what we’re going to say…

Yom Kippur is no ordinary holiday, and, if it were a building, it would be no ordinary building. Right in its entryway is a courtroom – the Kol Nidre - where we our vows, oaths, promises, and assurances are reviewed. The question we are asked is, is our word good? Do we take our words seriously? Before we step further into this holiday service to pray, we must come to terms with our own words. For, if we don’t take our own words seriously, who will? And what meaning will our prayers hold?

Words are powerful. We Jews know the power of words. The words of the Kol Nidre itself has been against us by those who read it and claimed; how can you rely on a people who absolves themselves of their own vows? Which vows? Only oaths made to God be absolved and not all of those either. You can’t make a vow while thinking in the back of your mind, “I don’t have to keep this promise because of the Kol Nidre.” That’s clearly not allowed.

So of what use is it?

Historically, this prayer has been profoundly valuable. During the inquisition, the Jews in Spain relied on the Kol Nidre to absolve them of oaths they were forced to make against their will, and under penalty of death. But of what use is it now?

It emphasizes to use the importance of words. The entire fifth book of the Torah is called Devarim “words.” In it, is the most powerful political document of all time – a covenantal constitution that binds a people not by a ruler, and not by class, but a shared document. That’s why we’re called the People of the Book.

Words are the elements of prayer, of agreements, and the articulation of our thoughts. Words are not a once-a-year device – they have impact in our everyday lives.

We can change a world with words if we change:

There’s a wonderful Kabalistic notion that sees the Kol Nidre very differently - as a plea to God for God to revoke God’s oaths. In the Torah, we learn over an over again of the Children of Israel’s capacity to sin; to complain, and to provoked God to the point where God is inclined to punish, exile or, worse, do away with the nation. Have we changed much? If this is what Kol Nidre is about, it is, in fact, a prayer.

May God grant us all a good year – one filled with good health and good words.

G’mar chatimah tovah.