Chains of Words, Freedom of Spirit
Yom Kippur, 5786
Rabbi Isaac S. Roussel, Congregation Zera Avraham, Ann Arbor, MI
Some years ago, when our congregation’s leadership considered adding Kol Nidre to our Yom Kippur service, it sparked deep discussion. This haunting and powerful piece has long carried an air of controversy.
First, it is not really a prayer but a legal formula. It always feels strange: we arrive for the holiest night of the year, hearts open, white Torah scrolls in our arms, expecting fire and poetry. Instead we chant . . . a legal contract. Asking Hashem to absolve us of vows.
Second, it has been weaponized by our detractors through the centuries, who twisted its meaning to accuse Jews of being untrustworthy or failing to keep commitments.
And yet Kol Nidre has become such a core aspect of the holy day that it feels unthinkable to exclude it. For me personally, its haunting and beautiful melody makes our observance more profound and deeply moving.
And so we chose to include it, but with careful explanation. In our liturgy we are careful to declare it as a prayer that annuls only vows between us and God, not between people. We also connect it to Messiah Yeshua, recognizing our human frailty while asking God to look upon us with mercy in light of his Son, who is ever faithful and true.
The impetus behind this prayer is the question: how can we stand before Hashem on this Day of Atonement carrying the weight of broken vows? Its focus is on promises made rashly or mistakenly to God that could not be fulfilled. In this it resembles the sacrificial system, which offered no atonement for deliberate sins but only for those committed in error. Kol Nidre, likewise, seeks release from vows made hastily or under mistake, not from intentional deceit.
This prayer recognizes that words have import. God spoke and things came to be. Likewise, we create things with our words. Our words also create worlds, for blessing or for harm. This fact is recognized in the Torah, which insists that we take our words seriously. “He shall not break his word; he shall do according to all that comes out of his mouth” (Numbers 30:3).
Messiah Yeshua emphasized this same truth, exhorting us to let our “yes” simply be yes and our “no” simply be no—without the need to pile on oaths or vows. As Yeshua declares: “But I tell you, do not swear an oath at all. . . . All you need to say is simply ‘Yes’ or ‘No’; anything beyond this comes from the evil one” (Matthew 5:34, 37).
Vows can become chains. Rash promises, careless oaths, inner vows spoken in fear or anger—they linger, binding us long after they are spoken. The Torah gives us a horrible example of this when Yiftach makes a vow to sacrifice whatever came out of his house. His daughter emerged. A careless vow destroyed his family.
What I would like to encourage us, however, is to focus on a different set of vows. Ones that are equally as damaging and can wrap us in chains. These are existential ones; vows made in our hearts.
When someone hurts us, we may be tempted to declare: “I’ll never forgive them” or “I will never open myself to others again.”
We may also bind ourselves with vows of despair, whispering: “I will always be broken” or “I can’t change.”
These too are vows, and they suffocate the soul. Kol Nidre can be seen as the prayer that frees us—not only from words spoken aloud, but also from hidden vows of bitterness, fear, and despair. It becomes our collective cry to Hashem: release us from these bonds, for they block the flow of grace and love in our lives.
If it were only legal, Kol Nidre would not pierce us as it does. But the melody carries the ache of our hearts. It is the cry of souls desperate to be released from chains.
That’s why Kol Nidre opens Yom Kippur: before we can confess sins, we must shed the shackles. Only free hearts can truly repent.
Kol Nidre invites us to:
Cancel the vow never to forgive.
Cancel the vow never to hope.
Cancel the vow never to risk love.
For if God cancels our vows, should we not also cancel the vows we’ve made against ourselves?
If you look at the words of Kol Nidre carefully, you will see that perhaps surprisingly, they are not about past vows but future vows. It says "All vows . . . which we have vowed . . . from this Yom Kippur to the next".
The original text indeed focused on the cancellation of past vows, but this was viewed as problematic and it was changed by Rabbeinu Tam, the grandson of Rashi. It is forward looking. So, too, may we look forward into this new year.
Our Sages taught that Kol Nidre is not merely annulment but rebirth. Like removing old garments before donning white, we strip away the chains of the past year. Rabbi Eliezer Simcha Weisz, a member of the Chief Rabbinate in Israel, says, "Kol Nidre offers a path to freedom, a way to unbind ourselves from the past and step into the future unshackled."
And so we begin Yom Kippur not with judgment, but with release. Not with fear, but with freedom. So that when we stand before God on the day of Yom Kippur, we stand as new creations—unbound, forgiven, free.
May we use this sacred Day to search our hearts and souls, uncovering the hidden vows we have made—the ones that keep us bound and less free to love God, others, and even ourselves. In letting them go, may we taste true renewal and be reborn. On this Holy Day, we beg the Master of the Universe to release us from the words that bind us. To release us from vows made in fear, anger, or despair.
To seal us not with chains, but with compassion. So that our words in the new year may be words of blessing, words of truth, words that build and not destroy.
Ketivah v’chatimah tovah—May you be inscribed and sealed for good!