Kol Nidre 5780
A sermon by Rabbi Gary M. Bretton-Granatoor
Last December, in an effort to support our daughter’s desire to take up Pilades, my beloved Marianne offered to go with Samantha. Soon after they decided to add Yoga into the mix and very soon, I was more often than not alone at home with the dog and cat, while Marianne and Sam went from class to class. Historically dubious of all of this New Age but ancient techniques at self-improvement my snide comments bordered on the nasty side. It wasn’t reserved for them but for a whole host of friends over the years who took up Yoga. Namaste!
PowerPoint Presentation
Last December, in an effort to support our daughter’s desire to take up Pilades, my beloved Marianne offered to go with Samantha. Soon after they decided to add Yoga into the mix and very soon, I was more often than not alone at home with the dog and cat, while Marianne and Sam went from class to class. Historically dubious of all of this New Age but ancient techniques at self-improvement my snide comments bordered on the nasty side. It wasn’t reserved for them but for a whole host of friends over the years who took up Yoga. Namaste!
In February, Marianne and I took our annual ski vacation, since I went back to skiing after my knee travails. Normally when we got to the top of a run, I would wait as Marianne started down the hill, making beautiful S turns but going as slow as molasses. When she was just about at the bottom, I would take off and with just a little less abandon than pre-knee surgeries, we would meet at the bottom at the same time. Not so this time. After 10 weeks of a steady diet of Pilades and Yoga, Marianne’s skiing ability, confidence, and speed went up 1000%. The rest of the vacation we would start together, and more often than not, she would beat me to the bottom.
It took me another two months for the message to sink in but it was time for me to see what this Yoga stuff was all about. At Pesach, I snuck off each day and went to a different studio so that they wouldn’t know that I was trying it out. After a week, I announced that I got into Yoga and I joined the studio when they did their practice and in May and June and into July I went almost every day. I did publicly apologize to all those I denigrated over the years (and got more than my share of “I told you so’s”). I pushed myself to learn as much and as fast as I could, adding variations and more challenging poses to my “flow.” The studio we were using went out of business at the end of July and I had to find another place to practice.
A beautiful new studio opened just two blocks from our house and I started to go there. I met the owner and head teacher and took an open class with him. I thought that he was terrific. He asked about my journey to yoga and I told him my story. He remarked about my enthusiasm and my stamina, but he then suggested that I come to his beginners’ class. I was crestfallen – I thought that I had advanced so quickly. He remarked that I had learned a lot of the poses, but in my desire to progress, I had not concentrated on getting the basic poses correct, and thus, I was not realizing the potential of Yoga. So, I went to his beginners’ class and he corrected my every pose. And every time he made a correction, he asked “Do you feel the difference?” And I did. Advanced as I thought I was, I needed to go back to the most basic skills in order to truly realize what I could and should do.
Five years ago, on this very spot, I preached a sermon about what I had learned about life while riding a motorcycle. A short excerpt (this is the first time I have quoted myself!):
One of the first lessons one learns on a motorcycle is to be hyper aware. There is not a square inch of road that goes un-examined when riding on a bike. In a car, bumps and cracks, metal plates and grooved pavement are easily handled between the four tires and suspension system. The car driver usually scans to road for major obstacles, like stopped cars, or falling tree branches, but sticks and stones and small debris is of little moment to an automobile. Not so for those of us on motorcycles – failing pavement, loose gravel, a small pot-hole, a metal plate, grooved pavement, sand, oil, even the first moments of light rain which lift the oil slicks from cars – are all potential threats. And every one of them must be analyzed and processed so that the rider can deal with them. There is never a moment that I take my eyes off the pavement immediately before me, as well as scanning the road ahead.
This hyper awareness extends beyond the careful examination of the road. In a car, one looks ahead, and occasionally, behind. On a motorcycle one’s peripheral vision is always operating – one sees things on the sides of the road that are usually missed. In a car, often with the windows rolled up, the other senses are turned off to the outside world. On a motorcycle, one can smell the pine when traveling through the forests of Connecticut and Massachusetts; one can smell the barbeques on the West Side Highway driving on Labor Day; one can smell a dairy farm in rural New York. And even over the din of the motorcycle’s roar, one can still hear laughter at the barbeques, moo’s on the dairy farm, birds calling in the pines, all the while, one eye’s are looking for every possible hazard that might lie on the road ahead.
When I am in my car, I care about the destination – I worry how long it will take, what detours will I suffer, how fast I can get there – it is about the goal, the destination. Not so, on a motorcycle – on a motorcycle, it is about the journey. And every detail of the journey is taken in.
And now 5 years later, I remain hyper-aware, understanding that it is the details that truly count – the details make the difference between disaster and safety. The big picture is the subject – the details are the meaning.
Shirat HaYam’s weekend of celebration in honor of our 36th anniversary was a spectacular success. With three remarkable cantors and five amazing musicians, our Shabbat evening service lifted our spirits so much, I thought that this very building would rise. Certainly, the crowd that filled this space not only witnessed a remarkable performance but was enveloped by the music and it was a deeply spiritual and moving. Saturday night was a lovely evening of musical fun and mayhem and beauty as well. I could spend the rest of my allotted time describing what some of you already know, and others of you were unfortunate to have missed. So, permit me a moment of rabbinic privilege to draw your attention to a part of the weekend that was only experienced by a few more than a dozen people, and yet I found it to be remarkably stimulating and educative. On Saturday morning, we gathered at Susan Hochwald’s beautiful home for our weekly Torah Study session. With the sun streaming in through the living room windows, we gathered to learn from our tradition.
Having been with this congregation for a number of years now, I know that “Torah Study” relies on the use of the term Torah in its broadest sense – Torah as the corpus of Jewish learning and knowledge. My teacher Professor Rabbi Leonard Kravitz used to indicate when he was speaking of BIG TORAH – that he was teaching from the perspective of all received and acquired learning. If he thought that he had an interesting take, observation or insight (which in Hebrew would be hiddush), he would announce “Moderate Torah coming at your head.” And if he was to quote from the words contained within the scroll, he would introduce it with “The Torah” and his hands would move as if holding a scroll for a Torah reading.
I know that during the off season, those of you who are on island, have of late been treated to traditional Torah study under the guidance of Herschel. During the season visiting scholars use the opportunity to drill down on the topic of their inquiry. When I am here, we have mixed it up –occasionally I will choose a topic based upon things happening in our world, or focus on an issue within our community. And then there are the times that I focus on Parashat HaShavua – the assigned Torah portion for that week. The weekend of our celebration, I chose to focus on the Torah portion: Ve’et’chanan – the second portion from the book of Devarim – Deuteronomy.
You might remember that Deuteronomy recalls the Children of Israel poised to enter the Promised Land. But before they are to enter, Moses will review their history and experiences and drill them on the law. He wanted them to remember the details of their journey – the specific events and rules that arose from those experiences. It is in this portion that Moses shares the 10 commandments again (with some variation as to why we remember and observe the Sabbath). Later in this portion we read the 6 most important words — the doxology – the statement of our faith: Shema Yisrael Adonai Elohaynu Adonai Echad! (Deut. 6:4) and the text continues with the first 5 lines of the V’ahavta. This was the focus of our Torah study. So over the course of a bit more than an hour, and we could have gone on for hours more, we discussed 6 lines of Torah that are probably the most well-known, most often read in synagogue, and for many Jews recited twice daily “when you lie down and when you rise up.” And we saw the words as if we had never seen them before and tried to understand their meaning against the backdrop of the language and understanding of our forebearers for whom many of these words had a different meaning.
And it was as breathtaking and stimulating as any shiur (sacred study session) I had ever encountered. By unpacking the original meanings of words like Lev – now translated as heart, as in the center of emotion, but in ancient times, the heart was the center of intellect. Nefesh – now translated as soul but originally meaning breath, as in the breath God breathed into us to animate life, and our respiration is that which keeps us alive. And Me’od – now translated as strength but etymologically the word is not a noun – it is an emphatic – VERY – your “very-ness” – your energy. So, words that we have recited over and over were due for a correction. And this prayer took on new meaning and new guidance and new wisdom. We looked at each word – we looked at the details. And as we looked at the details of these lines of Torah we reminded ourselves of the values of Jewish life and learning – we dug to the core of Jewish teachings.
And so, we come to this place tonight to hear the haunting sounds of Kol Nidre – the words almost take less precedence than the stirring melody. Listening to every nuance of Molly’s bow technique and fingering – the way she phrases each passage of music. Listening to the plaintive sound of Elliot’s voice and even if we don’t know the meaning of the words, we know the meaning of prayer by listening to the details of his expression. And these details prompt us to do the necessary soul-searching required of this day. They remind us that we are called to do teshuva – to turn from the wrongs of the past, to do what we can to right them, and to set an intention to do better in the coming year.
If the days leading up to this night have not gotten us prepared to seek forgiveness for our failings and sins, the music Molly and Elliot shared should be the goad to start the process. But too often our attempts at teshuva are unsuccessful; we are unable to turn away from our failures and we are unable to seek forgiveness from those we hurt.
If we look to the opening words of the Kol Nidre prayer itself, we are pointed in the right direction. Kol Nidre, v’esaray vacharamay v’konamay v’chinuyay v’kinusay u’shavuot…
All vows, bonds, pledges, promises, pacts, obligations and oaths…. It does not say Anything that you promised – it lists the various specific way we obligate ourselves.
When we reflect on our failings, we protect ourselves by generalizing them – so we don’t have to confront the specifics of our failures. We promise to be nicer, to be a kinder-gentler boss, to be more generous, to be a more attentive spouse or parent or student. If this is the nature of our search for forgiveness and atonement (which also means at-one-ment) then it is easy to stray from the path we set for ourselves. But the Kol Nidre is specific – it demands the details. And the details matter. Who did we hurt specifically? How did we fail them? In what ways were we not honest? It is in the details that we can confront the true challenges that lie before us; and it is only when we have stared each specific failure in the face that we can start the process for repentance. And there is a huge difference between coming over to someone and saying “If I hurt you in any way in the past year, I offer my apology” and “I know that I did this specific thing to you at this specific time for which I am deeply sorry.” The latter shows that we know exactly what we did – and it will make it that much easier to train ourselves not to do it again.
In Yoga, attention to detail makes the difference in caring for and strengthening one’s body and breath. On a motorcycle, attention to detail may mean the difference between trouble and safety. When we look at our Jewish lives may we review the details that make us who we are. And on this Day of Atonement, may the attention to detail make our repentance successful and our lives imbued with more meaning, honor and goodness in the year that is unfolding before us. May you have an easy fast and a successful heshbon hanefesh, an examination and an accounting of your soul. And may you be inscribed in the Book of Life for blessing.
In February, Marianne and I took our annual ski vacation, since I went back to skiing after my knee travails. Normally when we got to the top of a run, I would wait as Marianne started down the hill, making beautiful S turns but going as slow as molasses. When she was just about at the bottom, I would take off and with just a little less abandon than pre-knee surgeries, we would meet at the bottom at the same time. Not so this time. After 10 weeks of a steady diet of Pilades and Yoga, Marianne’s skiing ability, confidence, and speed went up 1000%. The rest of the vacation we would start together, and more often than not, she would beat me to the bottom.
It took me another two months for the message to sink in but it was time for me to see what this Yoga stuff was all about. At Pesach, I snuck off each day and went to a different studio so that they wouldn’t know that I was trying it out. After a week, I announced that I got into Yoga and I joined the studio when they did their practice and in May and June and into July I went almost every day. I did publicly apologize to all those I denigrated over the years (and got more than my share of “I told you so’s”). I pushed myself to learn as much and as fast as I could, adding variations and more challenging poses to my “flow.” The studio we were using went out of business at the end of July and I had to find another place to practice.
A beautiful new studio opened just two blocks from our house and I started to go there. I met the owner and head teacher and took an open class with him. I thought that he was terrific. He asked about my journey to yoga and I told him my story. He remarked about my enthusiasm and my stamina, but he then suggested that I come to his beginners’ class. I was crestfallen – I thought that I had advanced so quickly. He remarked that I had learned a lot of the poses, but in my desire to progress, I had not concentrated on getting the basic poses correct, and thus, I was not realizing the potential of Yoga. So, I went to his beginners’ class and he corrected my every pose. And every time he made a correction, he asked “Do you feel the difference?” And I did. Advanced as I thought I was, I needed to go back to the most basic skills in order to truly realize what I could and should do.
Five years ago, on this very spot, I preached a sermon about what I had learned about life while riding a motorcycle. A short excerpt (this is the first time I have quoted myself!):
One of the first lessons one learns on a motorcycle is to be hyper aware. There is not a square inch of road that goes un-examined when riding on a bike. In a car, bumps and cracks, metal plates and grooved pavement are easily handled between the four tires and suspension system. The car driver usually scans to road for major obstacles, like stopped cars, or falling tree branches, but sticks and stones and small debris is of little moment to an automobile. Not so for those of us on motorcycles – failing pavement, loose gravel, a small pot-hole, a metal plate, grooved pavement, sand, oil, even the first moments of light rain which lift the oil slicks from cars – are all potential threats. And every one of them must be analyzed and processed so that the rider can deal with them. There is never a moment that I take my eyes off the pavement immediately before me, as well as scanning the road ahead.
This hyper awareness extends beyond the careful examination of the road. In a car, one looks ahead, and occasionally, behind. On a motorcycle one’s peripheral vision is always operating – one sees things on the sides of the road that are usually missed. In a car, often with the windows rolled up, the other senses are turned off to the outside world. On a motorcycle, one can smell the pine when traveling through the forests of Connecticut and Massachusetts; one can smell the barbeques on the West Side Highway driving on Labor Day; one can smell a dairy farm in rural New York. And even over the din of the motorcycle’s roar, one can still hear laughter at the barbeques, moo’s on the dairy farm, birds calling in the pines, all the while, one eye’s are looking for every possible hazard that might lie on the road ahead.
When I am in my car, I care about the destination – I worry how long it will take, what detours will I suffer, how fast I can get there – it is about the goal, the destination. Not so, on a motorcycle – on a motorcycle, it is about the journey. And every detail of the journey is taken in.
And now 5 years later, I remain hyper-aware, understanding that it is the details that truly count – the details make the difference between disaster and safety. The big picture is the subject – the details are the meaning.
Shirat HaYam’s weekend of celebration in honor of our 36th anniversary was a spectacular success. With three remarkable cantors and five amazing musicians, our Shabbat evening service lifted our spirits so much, I thought that this very building would rise. Certainly, the crowd that filled this space not only witnessed a remarkable performance but was enveloped by the music and it was a deeply spiritual and moving. Saturday night was a lovely evening of musical fun and mayhem and beauty as well. I could spend the rest of my allotted time describing what some of you already know, and others of you were unfortunate to have missed. So, permit me a moment of rabbinic privilege to draw your attention to a part of the weekend that was only experienced by a few more than a dozen people, and yet I found it to be remarkably stimulating and educative. On Saturday morning, we gathered at Susan Hochwald’s beautiful home for our weekly Torah Study session. With the sun streaming in through the living room windows, we gathered to learn from our tradition.
Having been with this congregation for a number of years now, I know that “Torah Study” relies on the use of the term Torah in its broadest sense – Torah as the corpus of Jewish learning and knowledge. My teacher Professor Rabbi Leonard Kravitz used to indicate when he was speaking of BIG TORAH – that he was teaching from the perspective of all received and acquired learning. If he thought that he had an interesting take, observation or insight (which in Hebrew would be hiddush), he would announce “Moderate Torah coming at your head.” And if he was to quote from the words contained within the scroll, he would introduce it with “The Torah” and his hands would move as if holding a scroll for a Torah reading.
I know that during the off season, those of you who are on island, have of late been treated to traditional Torah study under the guidance of Herschel. During the season visiting scholars use the opportunity to drill down on the topic of their inquiry. When I am here, we have mixed it up –occasionally I will choose a topic based upon things happening in our world, or focus on an issue within our community. And then there are the times that I focus on Parashat HaShavua – the assigned Torah portion for that week. The weekend of our celebration, I chose to focus on the Torah portion: Ve’et’chanan – the second portion from the book of Devarim – Deuteronomy.
You might remember that Deuteronomy recalls the Children of Israel poised to enter the Promised Land. But before they are to enter, Moses will review their history and experiences and drill them on the law. He wanted them to remember the details of their journey – the specific events and rules that arose from those experiences. It is in this portion that Moses shares the 10 commandments again (with some variation as to why we remember and observe the Sabbath). Later in this portion we read the 6 most important words — the doxology – the statement of our faith: Shema Yisrael Adonai Elohaynu Adonai Echad! (Deut. 6:4) and the text continues with the first 5 lines of the V’ahavta. This was the focus of our Torah study. So over the course of a bit more than an hour, and we could have gone on for hours more, we discussed 6 lines of Torah that are probably the most well-known, most often read in synagogue, and for many Jews recited twice daily “when you lie down and when you rise up.” And we saw the words as if we had never seen them before and tried to understand their meaning against the backdrop of the language and understanding of our forebearers for whom many of these words had a different meaning.
And it was as breathtaking and stimulating as any shiur (sacred study session) I had ever encountered. By unpacking the original meanings of words like Lev – now translated as heart, as in the center of emotion, but in ancient times, the heart was the center of intellect. Nefesh – now translated as soul but originally meaning breath, as in the breath God breathed into us to animate life, and our respiration is that which keeps us alive. And Me’od – now translated as strength but etymologically the word is not a noun – it is an emphatic – VERY – your “very-ness” – your energy. So, words that we have recited over and over were due for a correction. And this prayer took on new meaning and new guidance and new wisdom. We looked at each word – we looked at the details. And as we looked at the details of these lines of Torah we reminded ourselves of the values of Jewish life and learning – we dug to the core of Jewish teachings.
And so, we come to this place tonight to hear the haunting sounds of Kol Nidre – the words almost take less precedence than the stirring melody. Listening to every nuance of Molly’s bow technique and fingering – the way she phrases each passage of music. Listening to the plaintive sound of Elliot’s voice and even if we don’t know the meaning of the words, we know the meaning of prayer by listening to the details of his expression. And these details prompt us to do the necessary soul-searching required of this day. They remind us that we are called to do teshuva – to turn from the wrongs of the past, to do what we can to right them, and to set an intention to do better in the coming year.
If the days leading up to this night have not gotten us prepared to seek forgiveness for our failings and sins, the music Molly and Elliot shared should be the goad to start the process. But too often our attempts at teshuva are unsuccessful; we are unable to turn away from our failures and we are unable to seek forgiveness from those we hurt.
If we look to the opening words of the Kol Nidre prayer itself, we are pointed in the right direction. Kol Nidre, v’esaray vacharamay v’konamay v’chinuyay v’kinusay u’shavuot…
All vows, bonds, pledges, promises, pacts, obligations and oaths…. It does not say Anything that you promised – it lists the various specific way we obligate ourselves. When we reflect on our failings, we protect ourselves by generalizing them – so we don’t have to confront the specifics of our failures. We promise to be nicer, to be a kinder-gentler boss, to be more generous, to be a more attentive spouse or parent or student. If this is the nature of our search for forgiveness and atonement (which also means at-one-ment) then it is easy to stray from the path we set for ourselves. But the Kol Nidre is specific – it demands the details. And the details matter. Who did we hurt specifically? How did we fail them? In what ways were we not honest? It is in the details that we can confront the true challenges that lie before us; and it is only when we have stared each specific failure in the face that we can start the process for repentance. And there is a huge difference between coming over to someone and saying “If I hurt you in any way in the past year, I offer my apology” and “I know that I did this specific thing to you at this specific time for which I am deeply sorry.” The latter shows that we know exactly what we did – and it will make it that much easier to train ourselves not to do it again.
In Yoga, attention to detail makes the difference in caring for and strengthening one’s body and breath. On a motorcycle, attention to detail may mean the difference between trouble and safety. When we look at our Jewish lives may we review the details that make us who we are. And on this Day of Atonement, may the attention to detail make our repentance successful and our lives imbued with more meaning, honor and goodness in the year that is unfolding before us. May you have an easy fast and a successful heshbon hanefesh, an examination and an accounting of your soul. And may you be inscribed in the Book of Life for blessing.