Thursday, September 24, 2020

For Yom Kippur: The Release of Kol Nidre


Why do we start Yom Kippur with Kol Nidre?  What does an official annulment of vows have to do with the work of repentance and forgiveness that is Yom Kippur?


What are vows really?  They are our attempts to change ourselves through sheer will power.  A vow is an announcement that from now on we will not eat chocolate.  Or that every morning we will go for a run.  Or that, next time we are feeling that triggered, we won’t act on it; we will remember to pause and be mindful.  Or we might make a more general vow to ourselves that, as we go through life, we will remember what is important; we will stay present and connected to God.  


These vows are born of our sincere desire to change and improve.   We see our own potential and we see the vast distance between that potential and our reality and we strive to bridge that gap by setting a goal, making a plan.  Vows are a symbol of human will power.  God spoke and it was so; we try to do the same; we speak and try to make it become so through our words and plans and efforts, through our intense striving.  


But we fall short.  Every single year we fall short.   Kol Nidre is an expression of our deep disappointment in ourselves.  Every year we try and somehow every year we do not meet our own expectations.  We are failures in our own eyes.  


And, to top it off, we know, deep down, we know so clearly, that the same will be true next year.   Indeed Kol Nidre reflects this knowledge; we annul both last year’s and this year’s vows, as if we are being honest with ourselves that yes, next year, too, we will fall short.


What we are doing in Kol Nidre is acknowledging our inability to sustain change on our own, admitting out loud our powerlessness to make the improvements necessary -- through our own will power -- to move forward in our lives.   


As is clear from the 12 steps of AA as well, this admission of powerlessness is the first step to true change.  We can’t do it alone.   Human will power can only go so far.  When we strive and push and effort our way through change, we end up depleted, defeated and despairing.   


Kol Nidre is a ceremony of release, of letting go of our sense of being able to effect change fully on our own.   First we list all the different ways we have tried; we have tried so hard and in so many different ways -- there are seven words for the ways -- kol nidre ve’esare ushvu’ei  . . .   “every vow and bind and oath and ban . . . “   We wanted so much to make it work.   


And then we list the ways we are letting go of all that striving --  we announce that all of our vows should “be released, forgotten, halted, null and void, without power and without hold.”   We are letting go of our sense of the power of our own will.    We can’t do it this way -- with all these human mechanisms -- and we admit it and surrender. 


The point of this release is “to let go and let God.”  We enter Yom Kippur with this ritual because it is a way to make room for God’s participation in our change, to replace our frenetic attempts to control with a surrendered alignment with the divine.  Instead of all these vows, we relax and admit our flaws over the course of Yom Kippur and trust that God will ease these burdens and lift us out of the place we are in.  


And so, immediately after Kol Nidre, after we have practiced this release of human efforting, we turn instead to God to help us out of our mess.  We say: “Please forgive this people’s iniquity in the abundance of Your kindness.”   We have made the shift; we have admitted our own powerlessness and allowed God to enter.   


“I can’t,” we are saying.   I can’t do this.  I have tried so hard, in so many ways.  Now, at this moment, I am letting go of all those attempts, of all the energy of striving and pushing.    I stand -- and, later, I bow low, prostrate -- in complete surrender to God.  I give myself over to His mercy and kindness, to His forgiveness and salvation.   I cannot save myself.


What joy comes from such total surrender!   It is like the flip of a switch.  Suddenly, there is peace and joy and confidence.   We ask God to forgive us and then we know -- without any worry or doubt -- that He will.   Next in the liturgy, we say the line that we will repeat again and again throughout this day:  Vayomer Hashem -- Salakhti kidevarekha!   “And the Lord said:  I have forgiven as you asked!”     The words are said with triumph and sureness -- I forgive you!  We know it!  We feel it!  All that striving for so long, and in one moment of surrender, there is a peace greater than any we could ever imagine.  We are held.  We are redeemed.   Our failures and disappointments are ok; they are all just a way for us to learn to let go.  


It is like the flip of a switch -- sudden light, a total shift, made with one simple move -- but it is still not easy to do.   We are so used to being in charge, to pushing, to making an effort.  And it’s not that letting go requires no effort.  God says: “I have forgiven as you asked.”  As you asked.   You have to ask, to be open to needing God, to admitting your limitations and inability to do it yourself.  That admission is precisely what we are doing in Kol Nidre, releasing ourselves from vows, from our human efforts at change, and allowing in the healing and forgiving light of the divine.   We can’t do it on our own.  


(You can hear the sound of Kol Nidre by clicking here. Recording.by my son Medad.)


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