The rest of the year, we get caught up in our daily lives and inevitably neglect to care about our relationship with God. But on Yom Kippur we need to let God know that deep down we care.
This year marks the end of the Shmita, the 7-year cycle that Jews in Israel have been counting for generations, back to our original settlement in Israel. Many issues arise because of the shmita year. For example, some halachic opinions rule that it’s best if etrogim do not originate in Israel this year, and that it’s preferable to purchase them from growers in other locales, such as Morocco or California. Other opinions support arranging a workaround in order to support Israeli Etrog growers.
Another issue that arises because of the shmita year is that most debts are automatically nullified, unless one signs a pruzbul, the document that helps preserve the debt even after the shmita year ends. It’s too late now, but in the same way I advise people to sell their chametz just in case, even when they have no chametz left to sell, I generally advise people that even if no one owes them any money or the debt might fall under an exception, it’s best to execute a pruzbul just to be on the safe side.
The Shmita year and Kol Nidre share this concept: we may erase our commitments. Shmita ends loan obligations and Kol Nidrei ends vow-related obligations. From one perspective, this seems to be a cop-out. You agree to pay back a loan or a fulfill a vow, but then, poof, you’re off the hook. In one version of the Kol Nidrei prayer, you’re even absolved in advance for vows you’ll make in the coming year. Why would we celebrate the opportunity to renege on commitments, especially at the beginning of the most important day of the year?
I think the reason is that nullification of vows represents the foundation of Yom Kippur -- our acceptance of failure. Our Sages in the midrash observed that from the very outset of the episode in the Garden of Eden, and from the very outset of the episode at Mount Sinai, we were set up for failure. There is no way to look back and imagine a different outcome to Gan Eden or Har Sinai. We were destined to fail back then, just as we were destined to fail this past year, and are destined to fail again next year. But if we are set up for failure then why even show up on Yom Kippur? Why do we say selichot and regret our mistakes on this day? If we are all set up for failure, what are we sorry for?
I believe that this paradox hints at the true purpose of Yom Kippur. Every year on Yom Kippur, we acknowledge failure. I assure you that next year at this time, we will certainly have another Yom Kippur filled with regret. It’s true that the Torah is an enduring commitment which the Jewish people pass on through generations. But just like our ancestors in the desert, we try, but can never fully live up to the Torah’s commands. When we recite Kol Nidrei, we are acknowledging the unpleasant truth that we will never measure up to the ideal.
But this realization that we are set up to fail changes our entire perspective about Yom Kippur and the cause of our regret. It means that we are not apologizing to God for transgressing; we are apologizing because we didn’t care enough about the fact that we transgressed. This dynamic characterizes enduring interpersonal relationships too. In most relationships, people assume mistakes will be made. The issue is always about how you will respond to those inevitable mistakes. When we respond without caring, relationships fall apart.
The capacity to care is the thing which gives life its deepest significance.
—Pablo Casals.
We must admit that during the year we are generally unfazed when we disobey God’s will. The fact is in life we have many responsibilities that legitimately put God on the back burner. But one day a year, we tell God we are sorry. Not because things are going to change – that probably won’t happen because God’s world has all but set us up for failure. The reason we spend Yom Kippur telling God we are sorry is because we are expressing that we care about what God wants and feel sad that we don’t live up to His lofty ideals. We spend Yom Kippur showing God that we care.
I like to joke that this perspective is analogous to a typical Hallmark card for Mother’s or Father’s Day which often expresses something along the lines of: even though I don’t express it all year long, you should know I really love you every day. For the same reason, we celebrate relationship anniversaries in other meaningful relationships, where we dedicate a day to reaffirm our care for each other which all too often gets lost in the busyness of life. This is the same minimal appeal we make to God today: I am not perfect and never will be, but on Yom Kippur, I dedicate myself to You because I want to show You that I care about my mistakes and our relationship.
We’ll never be perfect. But we can show we care by continuing to try year after year. As King Solomon said in Mishlei, Sheva yipol tzadik v’kam, a righteous person falls seven times and [repeatedly] gets back up again. On Yom Kippur, we have the humility to go before God and acknowledge, I’ll never be able to do this by myself, and I need Your help. Our only hope is to put ourselves in God’s hands, with the certainty that He will accept us, with all our flaws.
That is the essence of the kapara - atonement we achieve on Yom Kippur, the day of kapara. If we simply keep our side of the bargain and show we care by asking for forgiveness on Yom Kippur, the day God set aside for caring, we can trust that God will cleanse our past mistakes and pave the way for a flaw-filled, but hopefully better future.
Every year on September 11, Americans remember the nearly 3,000 lives lost during the terror attacks that changed our nation forever. Many people share on social media the final words of one particular victim, Brian Sweeney.
Sweeney phoned his wife, Julie Sweeney Roth, from United Flight 175, which crashed into the World Trade Center, and left her a voicemail.
"Jules, this is Brian. Listen, I'm on an airplane that's been hijacked. If things don't go well, and it's not looking good, I just want you to know I absolutely love you. I want you to do good, go have good times. Same to my parents and everybody, and I just totally love you, and I'll see you when you get there," Sweeney said.
With those words, at the most critical time possible, he expressed caring at the heart of all meaningful relationships.
Yom Kippur is the day when we express that kind of caring to God. It’s a unique day on the Jewish calendar, one that we will never experience again this year. The rest of the year, we will get caught up in our daily lives and inevitably neglect our relationship with God. But on Yom Kippur we need to let God know that deep down, our relationship with Him is what really matters. If we show that we care today, we know that God will do the rest. Gmar Chatima Tova. Chag sameach.
Copyright 2022 by Eliezer Hirsch