Call Me Back - with Dan Senor - BONUS EPISODE: Kol Nidrei...misunderstood - with Rabbi Meir Soloveichik

Episode Date: September 30, 2022

Yom Kippur, the Day of Atonement, begins in a few days. Kol Nidrei, is one of the most misunderstood parts of the Jewish high holidays -- and of the entirety of Jewish liturgy -- according to Rabbi Meir Soloveichik. He laid this out in a recent thought-provoking piece in The Wall Street Journal, which you can access here: https://tinyurl.com/44e4z7z8 Rabbi Soloveichik is the senior rabbi of Congregation Shearith Israel in Manhattan, the oldest Jewish congregation in the United States. He is also director of the Straus Center for Torah and Western Thought at Yeshiva University. He has a must-listen daily podcast called Bible 365, which you can access through the Tikvah Fund. He is prolific – he writes a monthly column in Commentary magazine, and his writing has appeared in the Wall Street Journal, the New York Times, Mosaic, the Jewish Review of Books, and many other outlets. You can keep up with all of his work at meirsoloveichik.com

You're highlighting your Ashkenormativity, Dan, and I actually feel that this podcast is no longer a safe space. I don't feel safe, and you'll be hearing from my attorneys. Yom Kippur, the Day of Atonement, begins in a few days. Kol Nidre is one of the most misunderstood parts of this Jewish high holiday and one of the most misunderstood parts of the entirety of Jewish liturgy. That's according to Rabbi Meir Soloveitchik. He laid this all out in a recent thought-provoking piece in the Wall Street Journal. Rabbi Meir Soloveitchik, or Sali as we call him, is the senior rabbi of Congregation Cherith Israel in Manhattan, or the Spanish-Portuguese synagogue, which is the oldest Jewish congregation in the United States. He's also the director of the

Strauss Center for Torah and Western Thought at Yeshiva University. Sali has a must-listen-to daily podcast called Bible 365, which you can access through the Tikvah Fund or wherever you get your podcasts. Solly is also super prolific. He writes a monthly column for Commentary Magazine. His writing has appeared in the Wall Street Journal, the New York Times, Mosaic, the Jewish Review of Books, and many other outlets. You can keep up with all of his work at mayorsoloveitchik.com. I won't attempt to spell Mayor Soloveitchik. It's one of those things, it's like, if you know, you know. And as I mentioned, he just penned this Wall Street Journal piece called The Meaning of a Yom Kippur Prayer, which I highly recommend and we'll talk about today. This is Call Me Back. And I am pleased to welcome to the podcast for the first time my very dear friend Rabbi

Meir Soloveitchik. I will call him Solly on this conversation because whenever I'm actually chatting with him, that's how we refer to him as Sali. And I don't want this to be some formal kind of big shot presentation that he's typically accustomed to. We're just going to have a conversation. Sali, thanks for coming on. Thank you, Dan. It's very exciting to be here. Big fan of the podcast. I'm a little disappointed that you didn't have me on with Mohamed El-Erian to give my views on the inflationary crisis. But if you want to talk about Yom Kippur, I guess we can do that. And do you want to talk, I mean, should we mention now that some of your best sermon ideas come from the podcast?

Like you listen to this podcast and you think like, oh, pearl of wisdom. Your only request is that we release the, you want the episodes released earlier in the week so you can help with your sermon. It's actually a little insensitive. You should really structure them more around my sermon schedule. And last year you had Yuval Levin on right before the High Holy Days, and he was giving whole discussions about the social fabric that really were useful. And you should really structure your guests also around what will be useful to the sermon schedule of rabbis around the world. I think you used something from that conversation.

That's right. Absolutely. That's right. Okay. Absolutely. So, Solly, we're approaching Yom Kippur. We're in that 10-day period here from the beginning of Rosh Hashanah through to Yom Kippur. Before we talk about Yom Kippur specifically, I feel like there are two, maybe three holidays that

are most prominent in popular culture. So whether you're Jewish or not, you know the Passover Seder, overwhelming majority of Jews, from religious to secular, have a Passover Seder. It is, it is, I just find that it's a holiday that many non-Jews know about. You and I talked about how most non-Jews know about Hanukkah. They think it's like the Jews, you know, it's their Christmas. It's their Christmas. Right. And then there's Yom Kippur, which I'm always struck by that so many non-Jews know about Yom Kippur,

so much so that they know something about it, but they often wish me a about Yom Kippur, so much so that they know something about it, but they always then always, they often wish me a happy Yom Kippur. You should tell them that it's customary to give you presents for Yom Kippur. Exactly. Gifts on Yom Kippur. So first of all, before we talk, why these holidays? Like, why do so many people know about these specific Jewish holidays? Yeah, so let's unpack that for a moment. And it's fascinating because on the one hand, people know a great deal about all these holidays, but they actually, and here I mean by they, I don't just mean non-Jews, I mean Jews in America as well, at times fundamentally misunderstand

what these holidays are all about and their relative placement within the Jewish year. There's actually a very funny, very, very old, I bet we can find a link to this, a very, very old episode of The Daily Show. This is when Stephen Colbert was still funny and was a correspondent. And it was around Hanukkah time, and he did this fake parody of, just as they usually have these stories about how Christmas has become commercialized, he did a story about how Hanukkah has become too commercialized. And he comes to see a rabbi and he says something like, what has happened to Hanukkah, this highest of high holy days? And the rabbi says, well, I have to tell you that Hanukkah is not one of the highest of high holy Jewish days. And he says, name one that's more

holy. And the rabbi says, how about Passover? He says, okay, I'll give you Passover. And the rabbi says, how about Rosh Hashanah? And Kolber says, all right, now you're just making up words. So the point, it actually hits on something very profound because what's known as the Days of Awe or the High Holy Days from Rosh Hashanah to Yom Kippur are well known in culture, but they're not understood that well, by and large, I think because the non-Jewish world knows about them due to the way the Jews have chosen to portray them and speak about them in our culture, and Jews

themselves don't understand it. So let me explain what I mean. Of course, Hanukkah is not one of, while a very wonderful day and of enormous importance, is not one of the holiest days in the Jewish year. Rosh Hashanah and Yom Kippur, which are 10 days apart, are two of the most profoundly holy and important days in the Jewish calendar, but they're inaccurately described. Rosh Hashanah is called the Jewish New Year, which isn't quite right. Actually, rightly understood, there are two different New Years in the Jewish year. The first is the month of Passover. The book of Exodus says this month,

the month of Passover, shall be for you the first of months, meaning in the Bible, the months of the year are counted from that month because that is marking the origins of the Jewish nation or what the Bible calls the people of Israel. And then we have what today is called Rosh Hashanah, which means the head of the year or the new year. But what we are marking here is a commemoration of creation. This is the new year of the world. Jews have two new years because we are marking here is a commemoration of creation. This is the new year of the world. Jews have two new years because we are both a people apart, but we are also a part of the world. And so what we are marking on Rosh Hashanah through Yom Kippur is actually the new year of the world,

or as I often say, Rosh Hashanah is not the Jewish new year, it's the world's new year, only just Jews know that. So, but we are thinking on these days about our humanity and the fragility of life itself and the fact that because we are frail and fallible, we have failed in the year that has passed, and God judges our failures, the failures of all the world, on these days. And yet, precisely because God recognizes our fallibilities and our frailties, he is also open to the potential of repentance. So we're simultaneously marking the incredible moral capacity of human beings to begin again,

to recreate, and to grow and progress in their lives. So then within Yom Kippur, it's not just Yom Kippur that's well known, it's Kol Nidre, which is the evening service that brings us into Yom Kippur. Those of you who've seen Al Jolson or Neil Diamond, depending on which version of the jazz singer you've seen, have actually... Or the famous Simpsons episode parody of it, where Krusty the Clown has a falling out with his father because he pursued his dream of being a clown. And the father of a Herschel Krustofsky,

famously voiced by Jackie Mason says, it would be one thing if he would become a jazz singer, but a clown. So I would also highly recommend that. Of course, it couldn't be a conversation with you, Solly, without some quick kind of detour in reverence to The Simpsons. But be that as it may. So, Colney Dre is its own sort of institution within these high holidays, within this 10-day period, within specifically Yom Kippur, can you tell us

why that is? And... well, I have some other questions, but first, why does Kol Nidre stand alone, almost? So first let's explain how Rosh Hashanah and Yom Kippur unfold in Jewish liturgy in general, because even though they're both part of the... they bookend the 10-day period of repentance and judgment, they're different in character. On Rosh Hashanah, the liturgy is not sad, the focus is not on our sins. We recall the creation of mankind by God, we focus on our moral capacity for growth, and we proclaim God as sovereign of the universe.

Ten days later is Yom Kippur. That is linked, even though there's a universal theme still to the day, it's linked to a moment in the Bible as well. According to Jewish tradition, it's on that day that forgiveness was granted to Israel for the sin of the golden calf, and a second set of tablets following Moses' smashing of the first tablets after the sin of the golden calf, a second set of tablets, a sign of God's forgiveness was granted on that day. And so, following Rosh Hashanah and the 10 days leading up to Yom Kippur, and especially

on Yom Kippur, our focus is on what's called in Hebrew teshuvah, which is repentance and vidui, confession. We confess our sins to God, and we resolve to do better in the future. The central liturgy, according to Jewish law, on Yom Kippur is exactly that, all of the confessions of our sins. Ostensibly, none of this has anything to do with what has become the most famous liturgical piece of all of Yom Kippur, which is Kol Nidre, which begins the day now, and it means all vows. Actually, here's a word that doesn't appear in the piece. It's repentance. Repentance doesn't appear. Even the word God doesn't appear in Kol Yisrael. In this holiest of days. In the holiest service of the holiest days, the word God does not appear. One of the striking aspects of Jewish ritual in general is that you

can have something whose language is extremely technical, but because of the mood at the moment, it becomes endowed with a specific power. So for example, a wedding ketubah is treated with veneration as a symbol of a marital union, and many people hang their ketubahs on the wall. Should I explain what a ketubah is? It's a document that's written out about the obligations involved in a marriage, and it's written out right before, it's signed right before a wedding ceremony, a chuppah, and it's often read at the wedding ceremony itself. So it's taken on a power all its own. And kol nidre is like that. Kol nidre is a pronouncement. It's actually not technically even a prayer. It is a statement in the presence of the community regarding vows, unknowing vows,

either that were taken in the past year or vows that will be taken in the year to come. Ostensibly, it has nothing to do with Yom Kippur, at least superficially, and it seems to have nothing to do with repentance either. And yet, once you understand its history, you can begin to uncover the power within this passage and why it has come to take on not only a central place within the Yom Kippur liturgy, but it has become a symbol of Yom Kippur itself.

But in Kol Nidre, we publicly declare that all vows that we took in the previous year are dissolved. We are almost given like a quote-unquote get-out-of-jail-free card. Well, so I would not call it that. I know you wouldn't. You're a rabbi. I'm just a mere congregant. I get to say whatever I want. Exactly. But actually, what you've described is not the standard version said by Ashkenazic Jews, though it is probably the original version, and it is still said by Sephardic Jews, which is that you say essentially all vows and oaths that I have taken from the last Yom Kippur until this Yom Kippur, all these I profoundly regret,

and they should be annulled. In the version of Ashkenazic Jews, it's for the year ahead. All vows that I will take from this Yom Kippur until next year's Yom Kippur, all those vows I profoundly regret, and they should all be annulled. And we have to understand what's going on. Wait, all vows I will take? Yes, the one you say, Dan. I think you're, I mean, I've only known you. I know, my last name's misleading.

But you're an Ashkenazic Jew. Senor is confusing. It throws people off. Your senor name notwithstanding. But yes, I'm Ashkenazi. I am the other hand, as you know. I know. Spanish-Portuguese synagogue. Spanish-Portuguese synagogue. But

what you will say, this Yom Kippur, is about the year to come. So maybe I should just... We should unpack what's going on here and its history. So the Bible in Leviticus speaks of vows or oaths, what are known in Hebrew as shivuot or nidarim. And these can usually refer to promises made to God, either to do something or to prohibit oneself from doing something

or from experiencing something. A standard oath in the biblical period can be something quite admirable. It can refer to a promise to bring an offering or a gift to the temple. But because a vow is considered sacred and there is a exhortation in the Bible to fulfill whatever one has spoken in a vow or oath with one's lips. One can impetuously utter an oath or a vow that can dramatically and adversely impact one's life. So rabbinic tradition declares that in certain situations, when it comes to certain vows, there can be cases in which those vows can be annulled by a court. One of those examples are, one of those examples is a case

where one profoundly regrets that that vow has ever been taken. And so one can come before a rabbinic court, describe the vow that has been uttered, express that I regret retroactively that this vow was ever uttered by me, and then the court can decree that that vow was taken mistakenly, and that therefore it is null and void." Now it's very important to stress here that what can be annulled are only promises to God. It's not obligations between one human being and another that can be annulled. So not commitments you made or vows you made to your community, your family? Yeah, if I invested money in, let's say, one of your ventures, and then I deeply regretted it, but I've already signed the contract.

You would never. You'd only be so lucky to... So I can't go to a rabbi and say, or to a rabbinic court and say, I deeply regret this investment I made with Dan. And they'll just wave their hand and say, it's null and void. He has to give you your money back. It doesn't work that way. It doesn't work that way. It doesn't work that way. Even though the annulment of vows has been twisted by anti-Semites throughout history

as a way of attempting to make the case for purported Jewish dishonesty, it actually has nothing to do with agreements made between one human being and another. They refer to specific vows that one can describe as having been made to God and that one can achieve, for which one can achieve annulment for certain exigent situations, one of those being profound regret. Now, that's the standard form of annulment of vows, and yet, that's not what Kol Nidre is. Kol Nidre was not organized by the rabbis, and it doesn't technically take place in front of a court. Okay. Yeah.

Okay, but before we get to that... Sure. You can understand why some, not me, but why some would say, you know, how much of a commitment is this really? Even as you say it's a commitment, it's about vows to God, not vows to your community, not vows to your friends, not vows to your family members, not vows to your business associates. It's between you and God. Even if it's just between you and God, the idea that you know each year that you get to come back the following year and be released from the implications of having not lived up to those vows, and you just get to start all over again.

Right. That is often the... I mean, you say it opens up an anti-Semitic trope but but obviously yes but but you can understand also not not the anti-semitism is is its own issue but just that the question of like how is it possible to just walk into synagogue every year and just get all your vows all right your fidelity to those vows released and uh or your expected fidelity to those vows released and and a kind of a etch a sketch so two so two points have to be made here. The first is that actually what you're describing is one of the aspects of the development of this liturgy that rabbis didn't like. In other words,

the annulment of vows, as described in the Talmud, is not a blanket ritual. You come to a rabbinic court and you discuss one specific vow. And if it's discovered that you truly regret it or there are other exigent circumstances, you can be released. What happened here was something different, in which this developed not among the rabbis, unlike most liturgical developments in Judaism. What happened here is that the people started coming to synagogue before Yom Kippur,

aware that they may have taken vows that they failed to keep, and feeling very worried now before Yom Kippur about the prospect of standing in judgment before God, and then treating the congregation, or perhaps the cantor of the congregation, or perhaps the cantor of the congregation, or perhaps the cantor of the congregation surrounded by two others, as effectively a Jewish court, they would, right before entering Yom Kippur, declare that the vows of the past year were all deeply regretted,

and therefore should be annulled. And what you're saying is actually what many rabbis said throughout history, which is, that's not how this works. That's how I think of myself, by the way. You treat me like a mere congregant, but I think of myself, I'm asking the questions that the real, serious senior rabbis are asking in the 8th and 9th century. Exactly. You are rightly a rabbinic scholar, just as I am rightly an expert in inflation and world economies.

And that's precisely what they said, exactly what you said. That's not how this works. You want to do an annulment of a vow? It's a serious process. You come to the court. You discuss the specific vow. There's an actual requirement, actually, for being what's called in Hebrew, mifaret, to describe in detail the vow.

And then achieve a release from the vow, an annulment of the vow, after an expression of profound regret or other exigent circumstances. But here, that's not what's happening. It's not a court, and you're not describing a specific vow how you're just asking for a blanket annulment. So that's precisely what the rabbi said. And yet, Dan, the people persisted in doing it. And if they did, it's because there's another response to what you're saying. So let's review your rabbinic argument. Okay, yes. Better coming from you. Yeah, you said, look, you said, look, this is not how it's supposed to work. You can't just come back year after year and just annul the past or look forward to the future and say, you know what? I'm annulling all of my irresponsible vows in the future.

That's not how... That seems strange. And yet, Dan, in a certain sense, that's kind of how repentance is too, right? I mean, I'll speak personally. Obviously, you have nothing to regret. But I, however, am a flawed human being, and so I'll just speak about my own circumstances. Happens to be that every year I look back on the year and I realize that there were actions of mine that I deeply regret. They could be actions, choices I made vis-a-vis other human beings. At times they could be actions vis-a-vis my relationship with God. And every year I'm coming back to God and saying, God, I'm sorry, I failed and I want to do better.

So, the question you're asking, why does this make any sense? On the one hand, it's a good question. On the other hand, one could turn your question around and ask that about repentance itself. Why does God allow us to come back year after year and say, God, I failed and I deeply regret the same words. I deeply regret my failures and I'm going to and I'd like you to absolve my mistakes based on my

sincere commitment to move forward. And so here we get to the basic question of perhaps the most, one of the central questions of Jewish thought and of the Bible itself. Why does repentance make any sense? Which is, of course, the question that's raised not by the beginning of Yom Kippur, but by the end of Yom Kippur in the book of Jonah, where the prophet Jonah is sent to the Assyrian city of Nineveh to tell them that they are about to be punished for their sins. Jonah doesn't want to go. And originally, we don't know why he doesn't

want to go. And he comes eventually to the city and he says, you're all going to be punished for your sins. And they all repent and God changes his mind, as it were, and forgives them. And Jonah says, I knew this would happen. This isn't right. They did wrong. They deserve to be punished. And God says, what do you want me to do? They regretted their sins, and I have mercy on them, and I'm open to the human capacity for change and growth. So the response to your question, to your rabbinic sage question, is actually the response to the original rabbinic complaint against Kol Nidre, and it's the reason why, despite many attempts to get rid of Kol Nidre Dan, made by important

rabbis from the the eighth or ninth century to the 19th century, all attempts to get rid of Kol Nidre failed because ultimately this quasi-legal or extra-legal development from the masses, whether or not it actually legally works, has a power all its own because it is more than just a technical annulment of oaths. It is the embodiment of what repentance is, which is that human beings have the capacity for change, and regret is the emotion that motivates that change. We look back on our past year. If we were free to have done differently,

then we are right to regret our choices. If we couldn't have chosen differently, then regret makes no sense. But because we could have chosen differently, therefore regret is the proper reaction. But the corollary is that the very freedom with which human beings are granted, of which regret is the ultimate sign, also highlights the fact that we can use that freedom to create a new future in the year to come, and a better version of ourselves. And so that's ultimately why Kol Nidre endured.

Not because of what it says about oaths or vows, but because of what it says about the human condition. So in this Wall Street Journal piece that you wrote that I referenced in your introduction, you say freedom, this is a beautiful quote, freedom is what allows human beings to sin, but it is also what allows us to change, which is, I think, what you're saying here. Exactly right. There were philosophers who, as part of the rebellion

against Judaism, like Spinoza, said that repentance is silly. Well, you can't change the past, he said. What's the point? What's the point of feeling regret about something that occurred in the past? And Spinoza argued that because Spinoza also denied human freedom. We regret something because we realize that we really could have done better. Henry Kissinger has a famous story somewhere about a professor at Harvard where someone, I don't remember if it was Kissinger himself, someone wrote a paper for the professor. The professor wrote to the student on the paper, he wrote, is this the best you can

do? The student thought no, and he worked really hard on the paper and came back with a better version. Again, the professor wrote, is this the best you could do? This happened several times until the student, in frustration, handed the final draft of the paper to the professor and said, I've worked really hard on this and this is absolutely the best I can do. And then the professor said, fine, now I'll actually read it.

So the point is that regret is motivated by the fact that we realize that we have not done as well as we could have. And the central words of Kol Nidre, which were not necessarily there in the earliest incarnation of it, but made its way in it pretty soon after, is in Aramaic, Kul Ahon Icharatna Be-Hom. And whether you're talking about,

as in the Ashkenazic version, the vows of the year to come, or in the Sephardic version, the vows of the past year, or if you're talking about the vows of the past year, the central words, I deeply regret these. That's highlighting not just the essence of vow absolution. It's highlighting the essence of our moral capacity and what we should be getting out of Rosh Hashanah and Yom Kippur, which is a universal message.

It's not just for Jews, I believe. And before we let you go, and you talked a little bit about it here, and you talked about it more explicitly in the journal piece, about how unlike most liturgical innovations, at least in Jewish history, Kol Nidre was often, if not consistently, opposed by the rabbis, which I didn't even realize right up, it wasn't just the 8th

and 9th centuries, right up through the 19th century, which I... Can you believe people didn't just listen to the rabbis when they told them to do something?

It's unbelievable. It's a shanda. So I guess, I'm having a hard time visualizing that. Like, if you have century after century of Jewish masses

frustrated with the rabbinic leadership's decision or opposition to what they're trying to accomplish, how does that manifest itself? Like, what are they doing? Are they sending around petitions? Are they, I mean, I'm not literally sending around, but like, how's this fundamental disagreement with rabbinic leaders expressed? Well, first of all, let me just say a kind word for the rabbis. Of course. That's very, very important. The rabbis knew that when this is taken and is twisted by anti-Semites, we're not just

talking about in those days, you know, a bit of bad PR. They're going to be the ones who are going to have to go and defend that and explain what's really happening. As I wrote in the journal piece, there were debates to which rabbis were dragged in the courts of kings, where they had to defend Judaism against all sorts of anti-Semitic calumnies. And one of them was the anti-Semitic argument that Kol Nidre shows that Jews don't really care about keeping promises. So it's not going to be the masses who will be forced to defend why this is taking place.

It's going to be the rabbis. And they're going to have to do it in a very dangerous situation where Jews do not have freedom of speech and they'll be walking a tightrope rhetorically in what they can say in defending Judaism against calumnies. So it was the rabbis who knew they would have to deal with how this would be twisted. At the same time, what this emphasizes is that some of the most emotional aspects of Yom Kippur are actually the ones that touch us in ways that are not purely legal and therefore do not necessarily have origins in rabbinic obligation. So if you just ask someone, let's say, within the Ashkenazic liturgical tradition, what

are the three most powerful moments of the Yom Kippur experience, they will probably list three stanzas, none of which are obligatory and none of which are, according to technical Jewish law, essential to Yom Kippur. They are Kol Nidre, Yizkor, Yizkor where... Just explain what Yizkor is. Yizkor is also an Ashkenaz, the Sephardic Jews do not say Yizkor, but... They don't say it ever or they just don't say it on Yom Kippur? No, no. You're highlighting your Ashkenormativity, Dan.

And actually, I actually feel that this podcast is no longer a safe space. Have you been triggered? I don't feel safe, and you'll be hearing from my attorneys. So, but... Explain, okay, but explain what the Yizkor service... Yizkor developed after, actually, a massacre of Jews that took place, and it became a way of remembering Jews who had died,

and it's basically just a pledge to charity in memory of and in merit of the memory of a lost loved one. And it's traditionally said by those, especially those who have lost parents. And it's taken on an emotion all its own. It's almost like a service within a service. It's like it's anywhere from like 10 to 25 minutes, depending on the congregation. And it's really mostly just those who participate in it or those, as you said, have lost someone immediate.

And everyone else almost leaves. I remember as a kid, when the Yizkor service would begin, I was like ushered out to go play outside. And everyone will come in, and what will often be said is memorial prayers for those murdered in the Holocaust. Right. And so you'll see everyone joining in specific memorial prayers. But again... Okay, and what was the third? You're not obligated. Yes, here's the second.

What's the third? Unetana Tokef. Unetana Tokef, which is also only an Ashkenazic liturgy, and it contains the famous words describing how on Rosh Hashanah and Yom Kippur, God decides who will live and who will die, who by fire, who by water, who will be elevated, who will be demoted, and and how our own prayer and righteous action can avert a terrible divine decree. And again, you're not obligated to say that liturgical piece, but for so many it captures the very power and essence of the day. So if you asked me, you only had five minutes on Rosh Hashanah

and five minutes on Yom Kippur, for whatever reason. Let's say you had other things to do. So what would you need to do to have a real Rosh Hashanah? I would say, if you don't have shofar on Rosh Hashanah, you don't have a Rosh Hashanah. That's the essence of Rosh Hashanah. That's the central mitzvah of Rosh Hashanah. But people would want to say,

And for Yom Kippur, you can skip Kol Nidra. but people would want to say, Unatanatokif. And for Yom Kippur, you can skip Kol Nidre. You still have a Yom Kippur. You could skip Yizkor. You'd still have a Yom Kippur. You could skip Unatanatokif. You'd still have a Yom Kippur. But if you don't say the Ashamnu and the Alcheit,

those are the liturgies of confession to God, where you confess your sins and you resolve to do better, then you don't really have a Yom Kippur. So that's the technical obligation, but emotion has a whole different role, and tradition has a whole different role. So the story of Kol Nidre captures how emotion and symbolism can endow certain words with a power all its own, one that at times even the rabbis, as awe-inspiring as their authority may be, may be unable to impact.

And as I noted in the Wall Street Journal article, just to conclude, Dan, as controversial as the development of Kol Nidre may have been, it's a stanza that has a great deal to teach the world today, because in the age of cancel culture, we have a tendency to do the exact opposite of God in our society, and to define people forever by their worst moments. Right, give them a reputational life sentence. Yeah, no matter how much they regret. Whereas, of course, the very concept of these words I regret

is at the essence of what Kol Nidre is. And it teaches us, as I wrote in the journal, that it's better to cancel words than to cancel people. Rabbi Jonathan Sachs, of blessed memory, once remarked before Yom Kippur that today we live in an unforgiving age. And yet, forgiveness does not mean a denial of responsibility and man's moral capacity. What Kol Nidre teaches us is actually that a discovery of our moral capacity is at the heart of repentance. And actually, regret can go hand in hand with the most optimistic approach to the immense power with which we have been endowed, as well as our ability to define a year of growth

in what lies ahead. That's beautifully said, Sali. Thank you. Thank you for joining this conversation. Thank you. Would you like to hear my predictions about where the inflation rate is going? No, let's stick to Torah.

Let's stick to Torah. Okay. You know, disputes between rabbis and the Jewish masses. Let's stay in your wheelhouse. We have stayed on this conversation. We don't care. There's a lot of investors. Disputes between rabbis and the Jewish masses. There are a lot of investors who have stayed on this conversation who don't care at all about Kol Medrick because they just want to hear. They're just bracing. Also, they want your midterm projections. Absolutely.

I mean, there we'll have to go through. You'll have to have me back for that. Well, I'm going to have you back. This is a big breakthrough. I mean, I have a feeling we're going to get the Soloveitchik surge in downloads following this, which means people are going to be clamoring for more Sali. So it

won't just be Mohamed Al-Aryan and Mike Murphy and Richard Fontaine and Neil Ferguson. Sali is now added to the list. Well, I won't say have a happy Yom Kippur, but I will say... I'll be expecting my Yom Kippur present in a minute. But I will say I hope you have a meaningful fast.

Not an easy fast, but a meaningful fast. Thank you. Thank you, Dan. I know this is an extremely busy time for you folks in the rabbinic business. As my teacher, Rabbi Norman Lamb, said, for rabbis, the days of awe are the awful days. Right. But we'll get you back on. I appreciate you making the time and giving this text time.

Thank you, Dan. A blessed year to you and your family. All right. Same to you. That's our show. To keep up with Rabbi Soloveitchik, you can not follow him on Twitter. He's not on Twitter. I mean, I guess he lurks, but he doesn't actually have a Twitter handle.

But you can go to mayorsoloveichik.com, and I actually will spell it M-E-I-R-S-O-L-O-V-E-I-C-H-I-K.com. Call Me Back is produced by Alain Benatar. Until next time, I'm your host, Dan Senor.