“But we, our mothers and fathers, have sinned.”
How? How do we enter the gates of this Yom Kippur, ashamed, striking our chests, brokenhearted and longing for comfort? We are so skilled at judging one another harshly – yet on this Day of Judgment, in this terrible year, we would do well to remember: we are all transgressors, just as we are all in need of grace and pardon.
At the opening of the Kol Nidrei prayer we declare: “With the consent of the Almighty, and consent of this congregation… We hereby grant permission to pray with transgressors.” This declaration was instituted in the 13th century by Rabbi Meir of Rothenburg (the Maharam). Who were these transgressors? Originally, those who had violated communal decrees and been excommunicated. On the eve of Yom Kippur, they were permitted to rejoin the community.
And who are the transgressors with whom we are permitted to pray today? All of us.
According to tradition, the Maharam of Rothenburg was taken captive and died in prison, heroically, after many years, because he refused to allow the community to pay the exorbitant ransom for his release. Yet some historical speculation suggests a harsher truth: the revered rabbi died in captivity because he was not ransomed in time – perhaps negotiations dragged on too long. His words, ““With the consent of the Almighty, and consent of this congregation,” resound through the generations, carrying within them a trace of guilt. This year too, his words will echo in synagogues filled with transgressors: all of us, who have not succeeded in redeeming captives and preventing bloodshed.
For among us are convicted criminals with blood on their hands, others hardened against compassion, and still others whose silence screams – and all of us together, with the consent of the congregation, confess: we have sinned, we have betrayed, we have transgressed.
The global boycott of Israel is intensifying, and antisemitism is rising. Two years since the horrific massacre, after more than 700 days of blood, conflict, and sorrow – we are all the transgressors.
Whether knowingly or unknowingly, by action or by silence, by normalization or by paying taxes, through indifference or gloating – we have violated the great commandment of “you shall love.” We did not love enough; instead, we were filled with baseless hatred.
We have failed to free the captives and ensure the safety of our children, failed to halt the cycle of revenge in Gaza, failed to stop the killing and starvation of innocents, and failed to prevent the moral collapse that will stain our heritage for generations. Many protest, many weep – but where is Jonah the prophet to bring us to repentance? He is deep beneath the sea, far from daylight, like a captive in a tunnel.
We are transgressors, all of us together. Only from within shame and remorse, from the seeking of forgiveness and a commitment to restitution and moral repair – only when we look one another in the eyes, face to face, in the Holy of Holies of this sacred day – can we merit the grace of forgiveness and the possibility of a new beginning. Only honesty and surrender, humility and courage, personal and collective soul-searching, can in time transform the harsh decree.
Recognition of our shared transgressions is the gateway beyond this terrible crisis. May our pleas rise from evening, and in our shared prayer may we become guarantors for one another, and may the sound of our prayers be sweet to our hearts.
Our souls thirst for the Living God, for the sanctity of life itself, for a wholeness gathered in our tears. May it be God’s will that from this terrible thirst will rise a cry, that mercy will be stirred, and that atonement will be found for us.
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Rabbi Amichai Lau-Lavie, born in Ramat Gan, lives in New York, and travels frequently between Israel and the U.S. The creator of Storahtelling, the founder and spiritual leader of Lab/Shul, he’s an LGBTQ+ rights and global peace activist, a member of the Executive Board of The Rabbinic Call for Human Rights, bio-dad of three, and the star of the 2024 documentary Sabbath Queen.
Rabbi Dahlia Shaham is a musician, creator, and spiritual activist based in Haifa, a lover of people and land. She recently released the song Tzamah (“Thirsty”), part of a collaborative project with musician Yonatan Kunda.
How? How do we enter the gates of this Yom Kippur, ashamed, striking our chests, brokenhearted and longing for comfort? We are so skilled at judging one another harshly – yet on this Day of Judgment, in this terrible year, we would do well to remember: we are all transgressors, just as we are all in need of grace and pardon.
At the opening of the Kol Nidrei prayer we declare: “With the consent of the Almighty, and consent of this congregation… We hereby grant permission to pray with transgressors.” This declaration was instituted in the 13th century by Rabbi Meir of Rothenburg (the Maharam). Who were these transgressors? Originally, those who had violated communal decrees and been excommunicated. On the eve of Yom Kippur, they were permitted to rejoin the community.
And who are the transgressors with whom we are permitted to pray today? All of us.
According to tradition, the Maharam of Rothenburg was taken captive and died in prison, heroically, after many years, because he refused to allow the community to pay the exorbitant ransom for his release. Yet some historical speculation suggests a harsher truth: the revered rabbi died in captivity because he was not ransomed in time – perhaps negotiations dragged on too long. His words, ““With the consent of the Almighty, and consent of this congregation,” resound through the generations, carrying within them a trace of guilt. This year too, his words will echo in synagogues filled with transgressors: all of us, who have not succeeded in redeeming captives and preventing bloodshed.
For among us are convicted criminals with blood on their hands, others hardened against compassion, and still others whose silence screams – and all of us together, with the consent of the congregation, confess: we have sinned, we have betrayed, we have transgressed.
The global boycott of Israel is intensifying, and antisemitism is rising. Two years since the horrific massacre, after more than 700 days of blood, conflict, and sorrow – we are all the transgressors.
Whether knowingly or unknowingly, by action or by silence, by normalization or by paying taxes, through indifference or gloating – we have violated the great commandment of “you shall love.” We did not love enough; instead, we were filled with baseless hatred.
We have failed to free the captives and ensure the safety of our children, failed to halt the cycle of revenge in Gaza, failed to stop the killing and starvation of innocents, and failed to prevent the moral collapse that will stain our heritage for generations. Many protest, many weep – but where is Jonah the prophet to bring us to repentance? He is deep beneath the sea, far from daylight, like a captive in a tunnel.
We are transgressors, all of us together. Only from within shame and remorse, from the seeking of forgiveness and a commitment to restitution and moral repair – only when we look one another in the eyes, face to face, in the Holy of Holies of this sacred day – can we merit the grace of forgiveness and the possibility of a new beginning. Only honesty and surrender, humility and courage, personal and collective soul-searching, can in time transform the harsh decree.
Recognition of our shared transgressions is the gateway beyond this terrible crisis. May our pleas rise from evening, and in our shared prayer may we become guarantors for one another, and may the sound of our prayers be sweet to our hearts.
Our souls thirst for the Living God, for the sanctity of life itself, for a wholeness gathered in our tears. May it be God’s will that from this terrible thirst will rise a cry, that mercy will be stirred, and that atonement will be found for us.
------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Rabbi Amichai Lau-Lavie, born in Ramat Gan, lives in New York, and travels frequently between Israel and the U.S. The creator of Storahtelling, the founder and spiritual leader of Lab/Shul, he’s an LGBTQ+ rights and global peace activist, a member of the Executive Board of The Rabbinic Call for Human Rights, bio-dad of three, and the star of the 2024 documentary Sabbath Queen.
Rabbi Dahlia Shaham is a musician, creator, and spiritual activist based in Haifa, a lover of people and land. She recently released the song Tzamah (“Thirsty”), part of a collaborative project with musician Yonatan Kunda.