A Haunting Kol Nidrei

Yom Kippur

by Rabbi Avi Billet

Rabbi Yissachar Shlomo Teichtel (author of Eim Habanim Semeichah) described a Kol Nidrei during the Holocaust, Yom Kippur 1942. He was in Hungary at the time, from where mass deportations wouldn’t begin until 1944, gathered with many others, to one of the only synagogues still functioning in that terrible time. The following is my translation of what appears in Mishneh Sachir, Yom Kippur 5703.

  I am recalling and transcribing in order not to forget what I saw and heard that Yom Kippur. A sight I had never seen before in my life. A vision that was awesome and dreadful, that Yom Kippur night.
  The rabbi came into shul, completely bent over. Bent over from the dread of judgment. But even more contributed to his being hunched over – the pain of our generation. The rabbis who were there told me he was bent over double the way he normally was, carrying both the fear of judgment with the pain the nation of Israel was going through. He was literally bent over to the ground.
  This is how he walked and stepped up to the holy Ark, and began crying out “Shir hamaalos Mimaakim Karasicha Hashem – from the deepest depth of pain reflecting our situation now, we CRY OUT TO YOU!”
  And he began to enumerate the terrible things that had befallen them. “Where are my brothers? I’m missing my balabatim (congregants)!” And he started to name them! “Where is this one? And this one? Last year he was here. We were ALL here together. And more and more and more – it’s impossible to recount everyone. Where is each one now?”
  And then he added: “Fathers who are here now are asking ‘where are our sons who were here last year?’ Sons are asking, ‘Where are our fathers who dedicated their souls to raising us, and who have now been stolen from us? Where are they?’
  “The husband asks about his wife, and the wife asks about her husband. Where is she? Where is he?
  Small children who were stolen from their mother’s embrace, whose parents know nothing of their whereabouts.” He enumerated the multiple tragic stories that have affected families among us.
  And then there was a tremendous emotional outcry, the likes I had NEVER BEFORE SEEN IN MY LIFE. Throughout the synagogue, men and women were crying, in a loud voice, screams which almost caused people to faint. Children six years old and younger were also crying in a loud voice – almost like a stone wall was crying with us without stopping.
  The rabbi continued, “Avinu Malkeinu – Our Father in Heaven – asei l’maan – do it for the children who study! Hear the simple cries of innocent children, over whom the Satan has no prosecutorial argument. See how they have been exiled in this most difficult way, from their mothers.
  “Avinu Malkeinu – Our Father in Heaven – asei l’maan – do it for those who have been murdered over Your Holy Name! How many of Acheinu Bnei Yisrael (our Jewish brothers and sisters) have been killed by the hands of the cursed ones, even though they had done NOTHING to deserve this fate!
  “Avinu Malkeinu – Our Father in Heaven – have mercy upon us and our children…
Through all of this expounding on the Avinu Malkeinus, the crying never stopped – the great sound of everyone’s voice, the broken hearts from every corner, both from the men section and the women section.
  I do not have the ability to describe this awesome sight which I saw in this synagogue – the only one in the country, where a large number of people gathered, bli ayin hara, and Hashem should add for us 1000 times this number. As the blessing of Moshe says, “The Lord your God should heap upon you a thousand fold…”
  In the whole country, many communities have already been destroyed, to the point that many did not even have a minyan in these Holy Days. And in my community of Pishtian, which had close to 500 Jewish families, since the expulsion from there from the Pesach through Rosh Hashana, there are only 3 families left. No minyan at all. There is only a minyan where I am now because the rabbi here is a tremendous tsaddik, the Chief Rabbi, and in his merit, people came from all over the country to benefit from his shade.
  We are very grateful to the wonderful Baalei Batim, important, wealthy, influential, God-fearing men who were able to impress upon the officials of the city not to bring about the decrees of the country to this place in the manner that has befallen other communities. That is the main reason why this congregation is still here. Although even from here around 4000 souls have been deported. But 1000 people still remain here, and God should save them from the terrible decree. And they should remain here until God will bring a great salvation soon. Many who have become refugees from their cities are here as well, such as myself and my family, and that is why there is a large contingent here.” 

This concludes Rabbi Teichtel’s recounting of that tragic Yom Kippur. The rest of the story is well-known, as Hungarian Jewry was largely wiped out in the summer of 1944, including Rabbi Teichtel.

Let us allow the depth of the seriousness of that Yom Kippur to inspire us to tap into what kind of day Yom Kippur ought to be.

Shana tova to all.

The Message of the Akeidah for YK and the New Year

Kol Nidre message - as delivered in Anshei Chesed of Boynton Beach

Since the second day of Rosh Hashana, our liturgy has put an important emphasis on the story of the Akeidah – the binding of Isaac. An additional paragraph was added to the selichot between Rosh Hashana and Yom Kippur week, and we will continue to talk about it tomorrow. Clearly there is import to this story that goes beyond a nice story... or a difficult story.

Some question as to why it is called The Binding of Isaac. Why not call it “the test of Abraham”? The focus is all on Abraham – on everything that he does.

Perhaps the account is remembered in Yitzchak’s name because he allowed it to take place – with no objections.

But it is also a reminder to Avraham about the good things he has in life - his son, and a need for him to focus on priorities.

After the incident, the Torah says אחר הדברים האלה (after these things - meaning, after the story of the Binding unfolded), then it lists Nachor’s (Abraham's brother's) children, including his granddaughter Rivkah.

Rashi there says

(כ) אחרי הדברים האלה ויגד וגו' - בשובו מהר המוריה היה אברהם מהרהר ואומר אילו היה בני שחוט כבר היה הולך בלא בנים, היה לי להשיאו אשה מבנות ענר אשכול וממרא, בשרו הקב"ה שנולדה רבקה בת זוגו, וזהו אחרי הדברים האלה הרהורי דברים שהיו על ידי עקידה:

"When he returned from Mt. Moriah, Abraham had a thought and he said, 'Had my son been slaughtered, he would have died childless. I should have married him to a wife from the daughters of Aner, Eshkol and Mamre.' At that moment, God informed him that Rivkah, Isaac's intended, had been born. This is what 'after these things' refers to... 'After these thoughts went through Avraham's head on account of the Akeidah' he heard about Rivkah's birth."

As he is thinking “Had my son died, he’d have been childless. I should have married him off" – sure enough Rivka has been born.

Imagine Avraham. As he is coming off the mountain, he may be thinking, “I had to deal with all the pain of no children for twenty some odd years, and then the difficulties of raising a child, and then the harshness of the last three days and the akeidah – thinking Yitzchak was going to die.”

And now he hears that Nachor had 12 sons and is already a grandfather! So many children! What is going on here? Why does he merit?

The difference between Nachor's family and Yitzchak is this: Yes, there is only one Yitzchak. But Avraham puts everything into this one child who holds the key to his destiny – a future, continuity. And sometimes the elements that will achieve that destiny are costly. Sometimes they come at the price of a little suffering.

On the other hand, Nachor’s family does not last. We hear about Rivkah and her brother Lavan (only because he is the father of Leah and Rachel), but nothing more about their family. It ends with the birth of his twelve sons. Yitzchak lasts, but with יסורים - difficulties.

We understand this very well in business, we have to understand it in life and in spousal relationships and in everything else. If we want something to last, to be real, we need to work hard for it.

Firstly, we need to work hard to be there for our children.

If we want to have a relationship with God, things don’t just fall into place. Need to work on it. We can not come to the synagogue one day out of the year and expect it to work. We can not make the synagogue experience a rote and meaningless one in order to have a relationship with God.

The aftereffects of the Akeidah, when we thought we'd have complete communion with God, when we thought we'd make the ultimate connection, but lost it at the last second... and then we find out someone who seems less deserving has all the things we want, and they make it look so easy! - It’s a let-down – and we don’t want to think about it.

We can have whatever "kids" we want. But if we want the Akeidah to be meaningful, we have to put in the time and effort to get a Yitzchak and to furnish results.

Yom Kippur Eve and the Yom Kippur experiment

On the eve of YK, the first thing we do is annul our vows. Some versions annul past vows, but for the most part, we annul future vows.

How could we annul future vows? What kind of statement is this - “Any statement I will make in the future should be considered null and void.”

Can you imagine – you’re going to make a business deal, and you don’t even have to cross your fingers. You’re lying through your teeth because you already nullified all your vows.

Maybe the vows we refer to are vows we’ll make as far as our commitment to God is concerned. We don't want to be held accountable for promises we won't keep. So does this mean our word is useless? Our vows are meaningless? We can’t be held to a commitment?

The truth is – it’s very hard.

Every year, I try something - besides going through the motions of Yom Kippur - to try to make the day meaningful beyond the prayerbook. I like to feel as if the theater of the day, the white clothing, the tallis, the machzor, the things we say, can help life imitate the art to help us get into the real essence of the day.

We have restrictions on eating, lotions, makeup, shoes - even brushing our teeth – all to help us feel the symbolic difficulty of the day.

If Avraham had difficulty making his test work, we too should have difficulty - to help us understand.

So let us try an experiment this Yom Kippur.

If the first thing we talk about on YK, the first thing we express to God, is concern over things we’ve said and things we will say, then let us start off the new year, the new us, with being extremely careful about the things we say.

The day time is pretty easy: it is pretty easy for me not to talk to people when I haven’t brushed my teeth. I imagine some people feel the same way.

Let us try, over the next 24 hours, to speak as little as possible. Obviously if you haveto put kids to bed tonight and deal with them in the morning it will be a little harder, and all bets are off. But certainly in the walk to shul and once in shul, let us make these hours count as best as they can.

Let us limit ourselves to a minimal amount of idle chatter. When you’re bored, read the English in your machzor, or the commentary.

With a focused effort, we can take ourselves beyond the motions to bring YK a step above what it will be without the effort.

And if it is difficult, remember that like we learned about Avraham – only things which are difficult last. If it comes easy, it’s usually not worth all that much.