By Chaya Sora Jungreis-Gertzulin
Yom Kippur. As children, we had the z’chus to daven with Zeide and Mama, our grandparents z”l.
Kol Nidrei night. Year after year, Zeide would speak to the members of his shul, always delivering the same message. “Heint bei-nacht is Yom Kippur”, Tonight is Yom Kippur. Zeide would continue: “There are people here who don’t speak to their fathers, their mothers, their in-laws. Brothers and sisters who don’t speak to one another. Neighbors who can’t look each other in the eye, can’t even say hello. It’s time to make shalom. With sholom, our tefillos will reach shomayim, the heavens above.”
Zeide would speak about having a forgiving heart, of seeing only the good in one another. With a quivering voice and tears in his eyes, Zeide would plead to his listeners, begging them to rid their hearts of all anger and ill feeling. To live a life of chesed, lovingkindness, compassion and understanding.
Prior to Kol Nidrei, there is a custom to say Tefilla Zakkah, a prayer of introspection and remorse. In this tefilla, we acknowledge that “For a sin between man and his friend, Yom Kippur does not atone until one appeases his friend.” Therefore, we beseech HaShem “… to allow me to find favor, kindness and mercy in Your eyes and in the eyes of all people. I extend complete forgiveness to everyone who has sinned against me. And just as I forgive everyone, so may You grant me favor in every person’s eyes, so that he will grant me complete forgiveness.”
As I think of these words, Zeide’s Kol Nidrei night message resonates in my mind. Is there anyone closer to us than our own family and friends that we should have in mind when reciting this prayer? In the z’chus of ridding ourselves of grudges against others, HaShem will warm the hearts of others to be forgiving of us, and bring peace and unity between people.
The days before Yom Kippur are busy ones. We say additional tefillos, do extra mitzvos and acts of chesed. During these days, many have the custom to visit kivrei tzadikim, the burial place of great, righteous people. When davening at the kever of a tzadik, we ask HaShem to look at us with compassion, and have mercy upon us, in the merit of the righteous who lie there.
Rabbi Dov Ber of Lubavitch, known as the mittele Rebbe, teaches that a person’s prayer in a holy place is more readily accepted. It is in this spirit that many make the long trip to Monsey to daven at the burial place of the Ribnitzer Rebbe, Rabbi Chaim Zanvil Abramowitz zt”l (1893-1995). He was renowned for his holiness, his fearless service of Hashem, and for the many incredible miracles he brought about. Thousands sought out his guidance and brachos during his lifetime.
Zeide taught us that Yom Kippur is not only about asking Hashem for forgiveness; it is about learning to forgive others. Last year, I heard a story that brought that same lesson to life in a personal way. A rabbi from my community spoke before Kol Nidrei about his experience on a visit to the kever of the Ribnitzer. Upon his arrival, he found himself among hundreds who were davening at the kever that day. Not only were there daveners there, but there were also many collectors, people asking for tzedaka, each with their own story and cause. To each one, the rabbi gave several dollars. Each one expressed his thanks. But there was one who was persistent. One who said he needs some more. And so, the rabbi gave him a few more dollars.
After the rabbi finished saying Tehillim and his personal tefillos, that same collector approached him once again. He was relentless. “Rabbi, you surely have more money to give me.” The rabbi explained that he had exhausted all the tzedaka money he brought with him. As he made his way back to the car, he had company. The collector was following him. When they reached the car, he made one last pitch. “Maybe you have some more tzedaka money in the car?”
Totally exhausted from a long day, the rabbi had enough. He said that he already gave, said goodbye, and drove off. That night, the rabbi sat down to prepare his Kol Nidrei message. But the words did not come. The image of the collector stood before his eyes. His words kept on playing in the rabbi’s mind. “Maybe you have some more tzedaka money in the car?”
The rabbi was troubled. The theme of his Kol Nidrei message was how we ask HaShem to look away from our wrongdoings, and give us even greater bracha than what we are deserving. We acknowledge our shortcomings, but that doesn’t prevent us from asking for more and more. Good health, more parnassah, nachas, and so much more. How could he speak about showing extra kindness and compassion, about having understanding and looking away, when he himself shut the door and drove off? Do we not learn that HaShem looks at us as we look towards others? If we want HaShem to go the extra mile for us, shouldn’t we be doing the same for others? The next day, the rabbi knew what he had to do. To practice the very message he intended to preach. And so, he literally went the extra mile, and made the return trip to Monsey. For a busy rabbi before Yom Kippur, not a simple task. Once again, there were hundreds at the kever. Once again, he distributed tzedaka to the collectors. And once again, the collector who asked him for more and more was amongst them. This time, the rabbi approached him first. He wished him a G’mar Chasima Tova, and handed him an envelope with extra tzedaka money. Sometimes going the extra mile means giving a little more. Sometimes it means forgiving someone who has tested our patience. And sometimes it means literally getting back into the car and driving back to Monsey.
Yom Kippur is approaching. The book is open, judgment waiting to be sealed. If we want HaShem to give us more than we deserve, we must do the same for others, without being judgmental of what we think they may deserve.
A story is told of Rav Yisroel Salanter (1810-1887). Once, on a late night, through a lit window, he noticed a shoemaker working by candlelight. Rav Salanter had to ask the shoemaker why he was working so late. The shoemaker replied, “As long as the light burns, there is time to mend, to fix”. What a life lesson. As long as we can, as long as our light is burning, there is still time l’takein, to mend and fix. To commit to positive change. We are approaching Yom Hadin. Let’s use our light, our inner strength, to better ourselves. Let’s give forgiveness and seek forgiveness. To go above and beyond with understanding and compassion for others. And in that z’chus, may we all be sealed for a good new year.