arts & entertainment Perfect Complements Prayer and justice work hand-in-hand. Jill Jacobs Jewish Telegraphic Agency New York I n contemporary Jewish discourse, the worlds of the synagogue and the worlds of service and advocacy sit far apart. The former is a place of intro- spection, of prayer and of relationship with God. The latter is a place of action and engagement in the world. Many of us distinguish between "reli- gious" Jews and "secular" Jews. Religious Jews attend synagogue, observe Shabbat and keep kosher. For secular Jews, their primary involvement comes through culture and justice. But these boundaries between prayer and justice, and between the internal and the external, are foreign to Judaism. Halachah, most often translated as "Jewish law:' literally means "the way to walk." To be a Jew is to walk through the world in a Jewish way. This Jewish way includes contemplation and action, prayer and service, relationships with the Divine and relationships with other human beings. On Rosh Hashanah and Yom Kippur, many Jews spend more hours in the synagogue than at any other time dur- ing the year. For this reason, these holidays can feel purely contem- plative. Yet Rosh Hashanah is also yom teruah, "the day of sounding the shofar," when we hear the sound that the Torah associates with liberation. And Yom Kippur morn- ing is punctuated with Isaiah's call to "loose the chains of injustice ... to set the oppressed free." These intrusions of real-life politics into the contem- plative business of prayer remind us that prayer and justice work were never meant to be separate realms of behavior. Rather, the two constitute complemen- tary aspects of an integrated Jewish life. In this integrated life, prayer and ritual push us toward justice work and sustain us in these efforts. We often think of prayer as a one-way conversation with God. We praise God for everything that is good in the world and beg for supernatural forces to change what is not. Instead, we might understand prayer as a two-way exchange that includes a challenge to us as well as an appeal to God. For example, Jews each morning traditionally recite a series of bless- ings about everyday miracles. We give thanks for our vision, our free- dom, our clothing and our other basic needs. For those who have what they need to survive, these blessings remind us to be grateful for what we have, even when every one of our desires might Rabbi Jill Jacobs not be fulfilled. For those who are strug- gling to get by, these blessings offer hope that our situations will improve. The Appeal Of Kol Nidre Reflections on a "superstition-laden" prayer. Rabbi Lawrence A. Hoffman Jewish Telegraphic Agency New York O n his way to converting to Christianity, philosopher Franz Rosenzweig attended Yom Kippur services and was so moved that he decided to remain Jewish. One look at the most famous prayer for the occasion makes it hard to believe that he did not abandon Judaism all the quicker. Kol Nidre actually is no prayer at all. Rather it is a legal formula in Aramaic that delineates obscure categories of vows and oaths known to the Bible and the rabbis, and then solemnly pro- claims that we are free of them. The origin of this concern was our ancestors' anxiety over reneging on promises sworn in God's name. The Talmud permitted such oaths to be canceled, but only one by one and in the presence of a talmudic sage. The idea of a blanket-nullification was 104 - r.rnbe 22 ?Oil, "- anathema to rabbis who first heard of it in the eighth and ninth centuries and denounced it as "a foolish custom." But no one listened. The prayer had emerged alongside a parallel practice of smashing clay pottery on which a formula to annul vows had been engraved, the idea being that your enemy might have conjured evil spirits and forced them magically to promise you harm. Breaking the bowl would free them from their promise. Here, then, is a superstition-laden prayer that was condemned by rabbinic authorities but stuck anyway. Its final version reflects a 12th-century sub- stitution of "vows made in the future" for "vows made in the past:' so as to do away with its obvious disregard for talmudic law. Even so, it hardly represented Judaism at its moral best. In the 19th century it fueled German anti- Semitism to the point where Jews were hauled into court and forced to swear that they would be held answerable for the truth of any oath they took there. Despite all this, Kol Nidre per- sisted, eventually supplied with unforgettable music and the choreography of a courtroom trial held before God. Jews were chanting it as far back as 11th-century France; 14th-century German cantors were prolong- ing the melody to make sure latecomers got to hear it. Polish Rabbi Mordecai Jaffe (1530-1612) sought in vain to change the text because cantors resisted cou- pling the age-old melody to new lyrics. Nineteenth- and 20th-century rabbis tried to substitute Psalms or write a new prayer altogether. Rabbi Lawrence A. Hoffman A more successful subterfuge was t play Kol Nidre on a musical instrume without words or to chant the prayer but omit the words (especially in trar lation) from the prayer book. What attracts us to this strangely