Every year, as we start Yom Kippur, sanctuaries worldwide resonate with the beautiful, evocative melodies of Kol Nidrei. However, the words of the Kol Nidrei service can be perplexing; while the melodies capture our hearts and souls, the words themselves might seem somewhat dry. Kol Nidrei delves into a rather unusual and perhaps less captivating subject - the annulment of vows. It is noteworthy that we also initiate the high holiday season with a similar service on Erev Rosh Hashanah, Hatarat Nedarim, which also pertains to the annulment of vows. Why do we begin the New Year by annulling vows, both on Rosh Hashanah and Yom Kippur?
Hatarat Nedarim, in my view, is clearly meant to teach us important lessons about the High Holidays. Regarding Yom Kippur, I believe it imparts the understanding that there are two facets to this holy day. One aspect is kapara, as the name of the holiday suggests, Yom Hakippurim, "the Day of Atonement." In this process, we acknowledge that during the year, our thoughts and actions have an impact on the spiritual world, and through our sincere acknowledgment, we can abolish the negative effects of our transgressions have on both the world and our own souls.
This concept of kapara/atonement resonates deeply with its roots in Tanach and in the Talmud, where it signifies the act of wiping something clean. It is on Yom Kippur that we are granted the power to change the spiritual consequences of our behavior, making today an extraordinary day.
The second aspect of Yom Kippur is more personal. It offers each of us the opportunity to change our perspectives, with the intent of repairing our relationship with God and our loved ones. Our goal is to demonstrate our sincere concern for God and His Torah. When we recite Viduy, we move beyond mere promises to behave better; we strive for a deep transformation of our core selves into individuals who genuinely value God’s presence in our lives, the Torah, and its principles.
As we emphasized earlier this season, God did not create our world of consequences to intimidate or frighten us. On the contrary, He wants us to understand that there are consequences to our actions, as a testament to how much we mean to Him. He aspires for us to reach for the highest moral standards and to develop ourselves to our fullest potential.
However, when viewed from a narrow perspective, our efforts and resolutions to improve each year can appear futile because, in the end, we will almost certainly fall short of our goals. Next year, we will likely be here again, resolving to improve the very same shortcomings.
Many teachings from our Sages even suggest that God knowingly placed us in critical situations where we were bound to fail. For instance, in the Garden of Eden, the Midrash Tanchuma Vayeishev points out that it was extremely challenging for Adam and Chava to resist the temptations they faced; the Midrash even characterizes the entire situation as a deliberate "set-up." Similarly, in the Midrash Yalkut Shimoni on Devarim, it is contended that it was inevitable for the Jewish people to stumble under the pressure they experienced at Har Sinai and commit the transgression of the Golden Calf—an act for which we received forgiveness on Yom Kippur.
On a personal level, we see the same pattern in our own lives. I've been asked countless times, "What's the point of seeking forgiveness on Yom Kippur if we know we're bound to sin again?" We are well aware that perfection is an unrealistic aspiration for the coming year. It is easy to become cynical after celebrating Yom Kippur for many years, only to find that each year we fall short of our resolutions, yet again. We may therefore question the purpose of seeking forgiveness when, like Adam and Chava and the Jews at Har Sinai, this all feels a bit like a set-up.
However, when we think about this question in the context of protecting building our relationships, it becomes clear that giving up on trying to correct our mistakes would be a grave mistake, even if it's inevitable that we'll slip up again. The goal isn't perfection; it's all about showing our commitment. In our personal relationships, after we apologize and reconcile, we don't anticipate the other person becoming flawless. We are reassured that they care - and hope they will be more attentive in the future - without assuming they’ll never make another mistake. Today, is not about pledging perfection. Instead, it's a day to confirm our commitment to our relationships – both with other people and with God.
This is precisely what we achieve when we recite Kol Nidrei and Viduy. Despite our painful awareness that we will inevitably transgress again in the new year, we want to assert that we care. When we annul our vows and say vidduy, we are implicitly acknowledging that we have, at times, disappointed God, others, and ourselves. Throughout the year, we often make commitments that are unrealistic, inappropriate, or superficial. We squander excessive amounts of time and energy on pursuits that contribute nothing to the purpose of our lives, such as excessive engagement with technology, video games, sports, and social media. These pursuits distract us from our deeper purpose and goals. When life becomes exceptionally challenging, we may even occasionally vent our frustration through angry or passive-aggressive statements or actions.
Annulling our vows then is like trying to take back hurtful words in our closest relationships. It's a way to express regret and admit that maybe we've been a bit too harsh or unreasonable. And in doing so, we strengthen our connection with God. We are reminded how invested we are in this relationship, even when it sometimes feels like God’s expectations are overly demanding all year long.
Moreover, the essence of Viduy is that we are not only seeking God's forgiveness because we care about Him and His world but also recognizing that perhaps God Himself values our acceptance of being subjected to the complexities of this world. Yom Kippur's gift lies in our ability to perform Hatarat Nedarim, to acknowledge our imperfections. God does not expect perfection from us because He knows that the world is inherently imperfect. Ultimately, God wants us to demonstrate our dedication to doing – and being – our best. And that is precisely what we convey through Viduy—our deep and genuine commitment to this ideal, even as we admit to our inevitable shortcomings.
This lesson brings to mind one of my favorite stories from Rabbi Levi Yitzchak MiBardichev. Every year on Yom Kippur, he would compile a long list of all the perceived wrongs God had done to him over the past year. Holding this list, he would declare to God, "I’ll forgive you for everything you did to me if you forgive me for my transgressions against you." I do not believe he was being blasphemous or attempting to negotiate with God. Rather, he was expressing the mutual acceptance that characterized their relationship—a bond he considered unbreakable because it was founded on mutual love and understanding.
It is because of this bond, because God cares deeply about us, that Yom Kippur was designated for us to restore our relationships by renewing our commitments in our hearts and minds. This is the precious gift of Yom Kippur—it is not about telling God we're sorry for not being perfect; it is about telling God that we are sorry for not caring enough - and renewing our commitment to caring more in the future. I think that embracing this affirmation – to care deeply - is an extremely meaningful and highly attainable goal to strive for on this Yom Kippur.
Chag sameach. Shana tova. G’mar Chatima Tova.
Eliezer Hirsch