כָּל נִדְרֵי וֶאֱסָרֵי וַחֲרָמֵי וְקוֹנָמֵי וְכִנּוּיֵי. וְקִנוּסֵי וּשְׁבוּעֵי דִּנְדַֽרְנָא. וּדְאִשְׁתַּבַּֽעְנָא. וּדְאַחֲרִימְנָא. וּדְאָסַֽרְנָא עַל נַפְשָׁתָֽנָא. מִיּוֹם כִּפּוּרִים זֶה עַד יוֹם כִּפּוּרִים הַבָּא עָלֵֽינוּ לְטוֹבָה. כֻלְּהוֹן אִחֲרַֽטְנָא בְהוֹן. כֻּלְּהוֹן יְהוֹן שָׁרָן. שְׁבִיקִין, שְׁבִיתִין, בְּטֵלִין וּמְבֻטָּלִין, לָא שְׁרִירִין וְלָא קַיָּמִין: נִדְרָֽנָא לָא נִדְרֵי. וֶאֱסָרָֽנָא לָא אֱסָרֵי. וּשְׁבוּעָתָֽנָא לָא שְׁבוּעוֹת:
All vows, and all the things we have made forbidden to ourselves, and all our oaths, and all consecrated items we have pledged; all explicit promises and all abbreviated promises, that we have vowed, sworn, and dedicated: from this Yom Kippur until next Yom Kippur — may it come at an auspicious time! — we regret having made them. May they be forgiven, eradicated and nullified, and may they not be valid or exist any longer. Our vows shall no longer be vows, our resolutions shall no longer be resolutions, and our oaths shall no longer be oaths.
(3) If a man makes a vow to the LORD or takes an oath imposing an obligation on himself, he shall not break his pledge; he must carry out all that has crossed his lips.
וְהָרוֹצֶה שֶׁלֹּא יִתְקַיְּימוּ נְדָרָיו כׇּל הַשָּׁנָה יַעֲמוֹד בְּרֹאשׁ הַשָּׁנָה וְיֹאמַר כׇּל נֶדֶר שֶׁאֲנִי עָתִיד לִידּוֹר יְהֵא בָּטֵל וּבִלְבַד שֶׁיְּהֵא זָכוּר בִּשְׁעַת הַנֶּדֶר
And one who desires that his vows not be upheld for the entire year should stand up on Rosh HaShana and say: Any vow that I take in the future should be void. And this is statement is effective, provided that he remembers at the time of the vow that his intent at the beginning of the year was to render it void.
שר שלום גאון 853-843: אין כח בעולם להתיר שבועות ולהפר כלל, לא בא״י ולא בחו״ל (תשובות עמוד קיח)
Sar Shalom Gaon (Rosh Yeshiva 843-853). No power in the world can annul vows anywhere
יהודאי גאון (ראש ישיבה 757-761
ואין נוהגין לא בישיבה ולא בכל מקום להתיר נדרים לא בר״ה ולא ביו״כ, אלא שמענו שבשאר ארצות אומרים ׳כל נדרי ואסרי׳, אבל אנו לא ראינו ולא שמענו מרבותינו״.
Rav Yehuday Gaon (Rosh Yeshiva 757-761). We do not ascribe to the custom of annulling vows on Rosh Hashanah or Yom Kippur. However, we heard that in other countries they say “kol nidre” we did not hear about this from our teachers.
עמרם גאון (861-872): שמנהג שטות הוא זה [כל נדרי] ואסור לעשות כן (סדר רב עמרם גאון, חלק א, עמ' מז)
Amram Gaon (861-872) Kol nidre is a foolish custom and it is forbidden to say it.
תיקון רבנו תם(1100-1171). "מיום כפורים זה עד יום כיפור הבא עלינו לטובה", כדי שיהא משמעותו להבא, לומר: "ואסרי די אסרנא ודי אחרמנא" כולו בקמ"ץ.
Rabenu Tam (1100-1171). Revised the text to make it about vows in the future.
ר' יחיאל מפאריס, מבעלי התוספות 1270. ויכוח לפני לודוויג התשיעי בין ר' יחיאל ובין המשומד ניקולאי דונין. המומר אמר: "כי אומרים לכל מי שנדר או נשבע שיכול חבירו להתיר לו נדרו, ובכל שנה ושנה אומרים ביום הכיפורים להפר את הנדרים והשבועות שהשביעום הגויים. ואין מקיימין נדר ושבועה לכל גוי……השיב ר' יחיאל: רק אותן שאינן אלא לעצמו ואין לאחרים חלק בהם. אבל הנדרים שבין הנדרים שבין אדם לחברו אין אדם יכול להפר". (ספר וויכוח רבינו יחיאל מפאריס עם משומד אחד - טהראן 1873, עמודים 6-7).
Public debate between Rabbi Yechiel the tosafist and an apostate before Ludwig the 9th. Apostate ridicules the Jews and calls them untrustworthy due to kol nidre as promises can be absolved. Rabbi Yechiel clarifies that its only about vows to oneself.
All solemn vows, all promises of abstinence, and formulas of prohibition, and declarations of austerity, and oaths which bear a name of God, and pledges to ourselves assumed on penalty, whatever we might have sworn and then forgotten, whatever earnest, well-intentioned vows we might have taken up but not have called down on ourselves, from the last Day of Atonement to this Day of Atonement (may the Day come upon us for the good!)- from all of them, we now request release:
Let their burden be dissolved, and lifted off, and cancelled, and made null and void, bearing no force and reality. These vows shall not be binding vows, those prohibitions not be binding prohibitions, those oaths shall not be binding oaths.
I look at the people milling around the sanctuary and know that finally, I understand the magic of Kol Nidrei. All these years, the answer was around me and I didn’t see it.
It is the people. The people who every year on Yom Kippur fill the synagogues of the world to hear a simple, sad melody sung in a language most of them hardly know. Still they come, often not knowing why. Not understanding what draws them. Knowing only that this is what Jews do. Religious Jews and Jews who don’t believe. Jews who come to synagogue every week, and Jews who come but once a year. Jews for whom the holidays are a joy, and Jews for whom the holidays are a mystery.
...
My friends, we had planned; we had prepared; we had promised. We thought we knew what life was like. That is, until March 2020 hit us. Indeed, as Kol Nidre reminds us, sometimes we are not able to live up to what we had expected to be able to do.
…
I pray that we will all resolve to be resolved. I pray that we will be mindful of our words, our vows, our promises, and our oaths. And I also pray that we each remember that the world we are living in these days is truly topsy-turvy.
While we do our best to live up to our intentions, we recognize that there might be some that we will have to modify or even abandon. And as we strive to strike the delicate balance between steadfastness and flexibility—idealism and reality—we take heart that we are in this together—and that we are all doing our best.
Kol Nidrei — the service recited at the outset of Yom Kippur and which is arguably the most recognizable piece of Jewish liturgy — teaches us that words alone carry an awesome power. This most sacred, powerful, and iconic service of the Jewish year revolves around nothing less than the sheer majesty of the spoken word.
In fact, the Kol Nidrei prayer is not a prayer at all. Rather, it’s a somewhat dry legal formula. Two witnesses, holding Torah scrolls to insert an additional measure of gravitas, stand on either side of the cantor as he chants the text three times. The words of Kol Nidrei are not even Hebrew, but Aramaic, which was the vernacular in ancient times. Hebrew would be reserved only for holy texts and prayers, not a legal proceeding. And because we would never engage in any business or legal dealings during a Jewish holiday, Kol Nidrei must be recited before Yom Kippur actually begins, in advance of sunset. This is why the Yom Kippur fast lasts closer to 25 hours or even longer. We’re already sitting in synagogue listening to Kol Nidrei before the holiday technically begins.
Why do we use this rather bland and uninspiring public declaration to usher in the most sacred day of the year? One might think that we should proclaim our collective commitment to engage in the act of teshuvah (repentance). Perhaps we should seek to have our past transgressions forgiven and ensure that our names be entered into the Book of Life. The truth is seemingly more prosaic: We state in advance that we should not be held accountable for any vows we might take between now and next Yom Kippur. This probably doesn’t resonate with the modern mind so much, but vows used to be serious business. A vow was much more than simply a promise someone made to another person; it was a sacrosanct commitment that could not be broken.
Publically annulling and negating our vows is not about a lack of integrity, or an unwillingness to live up to our word; rather, it is a call to let our feuds and grudges fall away. It is an opportunity to lower our walls, and interact in a more fluid way with our community and environment.
Today, even those of us not worried about official nedarim or halachic vows have our own versions of anger-induced interpersonal divides. We have friends, and colleagues, and family members with whom we don’t communicate. We have places we “refuse to set foot” and people we “refuse to call.” During the month of Elul, we make our best effort to bridge these gaps, and repair broken relationships. Kol Nidrei is the last step in this process. In the last moments before Yom Kippur, we reject our vows as a community. In the moment of Kol Nidrei we finally and completely tear down the last remaining walls, reject our divisions, and begin to pray together as one whole community.
I did not cover up my guilt;
I resolved, “I will confess my transgressions to the LORD,”
and You forgave the guilt of my sin. Selah.
(א) כָּל מִצְוֹת שֶׁבַּתּוֹרָה בֵּין עֲשֵׂה בֵּין לֹא תַּעֲשֶׂה אִם עָבַר אָדָם עַל אַחַת מֵהֶן בֵּין בְּזָדוֹן בֵּין בִּשְׁגָגָה כְּשֶׁיַּעֲשֶׂה תְּשׁוּבָה וְיָשׁוּב מֵחֶטְאוֹ חַיָּב לְהִתְוַדּוֹת לִפְנֵי הָאֵל בָּרוּךְ הוּא שֶׁנֶּאֱמַר (במדבר ה ו) "אִישׁ אוֹ אִשָּׁה כִּי יַעֲשׂוּ" וְגוֹ' (במדבר ה ז) "וְהִתְוַדּוּ אֶת חַטָּאתָם אֲשֶׁר עָשׂוּ"
זֶה וִדּוּי דְּבָרִים. וִדּוּי זֶה מִצְוַת עֲשֵׂה.
כֵּיצַד מִתְוַדִּין. אוֹמֵר אָנָּא הַשֵּׁם חָטָאתִי עָוִיתִי פָּשַׁעְתִּי לְפָנֶיךָ וְעָשִׂיתִי כָּךְ וְכָךְ וַהֲרֵי נִחַמְתִּי וּבֹשְׁתִּי בְּמַעֲשַׂי וּלְעוֹלָם אֵינִי חוֹזֵר לְדָבָר זֶה.
וְזֶהוּ עִקָּרוֹ שֶׁל וִדּוּי. וְכָל הַמַּרְבֶּה לְהִתְוַדּוֹת וּמַאֲרִיךְ בְּעִנְיָן זֶה הֲרֵי זֶה מְשֻׁבָּח.
... וְכֵן הַחוֹבֵל בַּחֲבֵרוֹ וְהַמַּזִּיק מָמוֹנוֹ אַף עַל פִּי שֶׁשִּׁלֵּם לוֹ מַה שֶּׁהוּא חַיָּב לוֹ אֵינוֹ מִתְכַּפֵּר עַד שֶׁיִּתְוַדֶּה וְיָשׁוּב מִלַּעֲשׂוֹת כָּזֶה לְעוֹלָם שֶׁנֶּאֱמַר (במדבר ה ו) "מִכָּל חַטֹּאת הָאָדָם":
(1) If a person transgresses any of the mitzvot of the Torah, whether a positive command or a negative command - whether willingly or inadvertently - when he repents, and returns from his sin, he must confess before God, blessed be He, as [Numbers 5:6-7] states: "If a man or a woman commit any of the sins of man... they must confess the sin that they committed."
This refers to a verbal confession. This confession is a positive command.
How does one confess: He states: "I implore You, God, I sinned, I transgressed, I committed iniquity before You by doing the following. Behold, I regret and am embarrassed for my deeds. I promise never to repeat this act again."
These are the essential elements of the confessional prayer. Whoever confesses profusely and elaborates on these matters is worthy of praise.
... Similarly, someone who injures a colleague or damages his property, does not attain atonement, even though he pays him what he owes until he confesses and makes a commitment never to do such a thing again as implied by the phrase [Numbers, loc. cit..], "any of the sins of man."
אַף עַל פִּי שֶׁהַתְּשׁוּבָה וְהַצְּעָקָה יָפָה לָעוֹלָם. בַּעֲשָׂרָה הַיָּמִים שֶׁבֵּין רֹאשׁ הַשָּׁנָה וְיוֹם הַכִּפּוּרִים הִיא יָפָה בְּיוֹתֵר וּמִתְקַבֶּלֶת הִיא מִיָּד
Although it is always good to cry out and repent every day of the year, during the space of the Ten Days between Rosh HaShanah and Yom HaKippurim it is exceedingly better, and the atonement is immediately accepted..
For the sin of being anxious about literally everything.
For the sin of comparing my life to others on social media.
For the sin of drunk-texting people I’ve tried to cut out of my life while sober.
For the sin of too frequently prioritizing pizza over exercise.
For the sin of getting sucked into Facebook when I ought to be working… or sleeping… or anything else.
For the sin of gossiping, trash-talking, and other forms of lashon hora.
For the sin of sharing more hilarious memes than vital calls to action.
For the sin of still not figuring out how to invest my money wisely (or at all).
For the sin of being too judgmental, full-stop.
For the sin of spending more on lattes than on tzedakah.
For the sin of not calling my mother often enough.
For the sin of sometimes neglecting my relationships rather than nurturing them.
For the sin of late-night online shopping splurges.
For the sin of putting myself down instead of practicing self-love.
For the sin of staying quiet when I ought to speak out about injustices.
For the sin of making my online life look better than reality.
For the sin of not attending Shabbat services.
For the sin of watching too much trashy TV and reading too few thinkpieces.
For the sin of underestimating myself and capabilities.
For the sin of online vanity and countless Instagram selfies.
For the sin of wasting money, food, and time.
For the sin of being extra (even though I’m still not convinced it’s such a bad thing).
For the sin of coveting youth rather than appreciating age.
For the sin of zeroing in on the flaws of myself and others.
In the coming year, may we strive to do better and to be better—individually and together. L’shanah tovah umetukah, may you have a good year, and may you be inscribed for blessing in the Book of Life.