This Yom Kippur, we must jump the barricades and become a unified Jewish state – opinion

May the year end, and with it, its curses.

May the new year begin, and with it, its blessings.

Inspired by a passage from the Talmud, these lines appear in a 13th-century piyyut or liturgical poem known as Ahot Ketanah (little sister) and are part of the traditional Rosh Hashanah liturgy. 

If ever there was a time for this prayer, it is now. 

A time for prayer

In 1992, the British royal family’s numerous scandals included marriage difficulties for three of the late Queen Elizabeth II’s children, which garnered extensive press coverage. Early in the year, her son, Prince Andrew, separated from Sarah Ferguson, Duchess of York. This news was followed in April by the divorce of Elizabeth’s daughter, Princess Anne, from Capt. Mark Phillips. 

In the summer, a newly published unauthorized biography of Diana, Princess of Wales, consort of the queen’s heir, Prince Charles (now King Charles III), revealed details of the couple’s unhappy marriage, adding to tabloid gossip. Then, in November, a fire caused extensive damage to Windsor Castle.

Shortly after the fire, the queen delivered a speech to mark the 40th anniversary of her accession to the throne. Noting her family’s recent challenges, she said:

“1992 is not a year on which I shall look back with undiluted pleasure. In the words of one of my more sympathetic correspondents, it has turned out to be an ‘annus horribilis’” – a horrible year.

This year has been our “annus horribilis.”

But, as we have said, tihleh shanah v’kilotehah; tahel shanah u’virhotehah.

May the year end, and with it, its curses;

May the new year begin, and with it, its blessings.

Berl Gertner's story

I want to share with you a story.

The Kindertransport was a desperate effort to rescue Jewish children from the Nazis during the nine months prior to the outbreak of the Second World War in 1939. The United Kingdom took in nearly 10,000 children from Germany, Austria, Czechoslovakia, Poland, and the Free City of Danzig. The children were placed in British foster homes, hostels, schools, and farms. Often, they were the only members of their families to survive the Holocaust.

One of those children was Berl Gartner, who later in life told his story to BBC Radio. He told how he was living in an orphanage with other refugee children and that one day, the teacher announced that King George VI was going to visit their town. The next morning, all the children got up very early, put on their best shorts, and scrubbed their faces and knees to greet the king. 

There was a tremendous sense of excitement and anticipation as the children waited for the royal coach to appear – and suddenly, there it was, turning the corner. King George, Queen Elizabeth, and the two princesses were waving to the cheering crowd. Everyone pressed forward on the barricades to get a better look, but 11-year-old Berl didn’t just push forward; he took an enormous leap, jumped clean over the barrier, and raced at top speed to the royal car. He jumped onto one of the running boards and started banging on the door of the car.

The car stopped abruptly. The king’s bodyguards dragged Berl off the car, and then the car door opened, and Berl found himself face to face with the king.

“I see you want to say hello,” smiled the king. Berl looked into the eyes of the king, started to speak, and then burst into tears.

“Don’t cry now,” said the king. “We’re not going to put you in the Tower of London.”

“Oh,” said Berl, “Your Majesty, please, please forgive me for banging on your car, but please, please help me. You’re the only one who can help me.”

“How can I help you?” asked the king.

“Your majesty, I am a Jew from Germany. Through your kindness, I was brought here by the Kindertransport, but my parents are still in Germany, and I’m so frightened about what happened to them that sometimes I think I’ll never see them again.”

Berl burst into tears again.

“What is your name?” inquired the king. Berl told him, and the king ordered an equerry to write down Berl’s name together with the names and addresses of his parents. Then he said, “Well, let’s see what we can do.” He patted Berl on the head and smiled.

Berl climbed down from the car and stood gazing after the car long after it turned the corner into the next street. He was sure he would be severely punished, but surprisingly, the school didn’t do anything until a few weeks later when the headmaster called him to his office. Now, Berl was sure he was in for the high jump. The headmaster said, “Berl, you made quite an impression on the king. In fact, he sent you a gift.”

The headmaster opened the side door of his office, and standing there were Berl’s parents.

The king is in the field

The Baal HaTanya teaches that in the days and weeks before Rosh Hashanah and Yom Kippur, the king is not in his palace; he’s in the fields, he’s in the villages, he’s in the farms. He comes out to visit us – he’s accessible.

And at such a moment, we often stand behind the barricades and the barriers we build for ourselves.

We can’t break through; we feel the barricades in our hearts.

We need to jump through the barricades.

The bodyguards may want to stop you, but the king wants you there.

Ask him for whatever you want. Ask him to be reunited with your deepest self. And don’t be afraid. 

Yom Kippur is upon us, and now is the time to jump onto that royal carriage.

If we want to undo our “annus horribilis,” we must find it within ourselves to do whatever we can to connect to God, to our people, and to ourselves, but sometimes we don’t have the words.

We have to jump on that car and make ourselves known.

We have blown the shofar, which has awakened the deep soul within us. We must jump those barriers and make ourselves a fully committed part of this holy nation.

Despite the media coverage of disputes, demonstrations, and counter-demonstrations, the percentage of dissenters is tiny.

We have never seen such unity, certainly not in the last 50 years.

We have truly had an annus horribilis this year – nothing could have prepared us for the horrors we have suffered.

But Yom Kippur has arrived, and if we jump through the barricades together and we petition the king, the King of Kings, he can do anything – he can do everything. 

Let us join together and jump those barricades. Open up our hearts, and let the power of our unity, our prayers, and the sacrifice of our sons and daughters carry us into a brighter future.

Tihleh shanah v’kilotehah; tahel shanah u’virhotehah.

May the year end, and with it, its curses;

May the new year begin, and with it, its blessings.

May all of us be sealed in the book of good life together and build on our innate strength to complete the victory of good against evil.

G’mar v’hatimah tovah: May you have a good, final sealing – in the Book of Life. 

The writer is a rabbi and physician who lives in Ramat Poleg, Netanya, and a co-founder of Techelet – Inspiring Judaism.