The Avaryanim
Kol Nidre 5766
Rabbi Joseph R. Black
Congregation Albert -  Albuquerque, NM

My Dear Friends,

If you have been watching the news lately you are undoubtedly aware that our nation is in the midst of a vitally important transfer of power. The Supreme Court is in flux. With the Nomination and swearing in of Chief Justice John Roberts, and now the nomination of Harriett Miers we may very well see a different kind of bench. This is a time of uncertainty and unease. There are many reasons for concern. The future of reproductive rights, environmental protection, civil rights, and religious liberty are all in the balance.

Tonight is Kol Nidre. Tonight, I will not speak about the Supreme Court - I will leave that for another time. But I will speak about another court - one, that, in a very real sense is even more powerful than that august Body of nine justices that meets in our nation's capital. The court of which I speak was actually convened earlier this evening - here on our Bema. Our Chazzan was the spokesperson. She was flanked by our president and leaders of the community. And before she began to sing the hauntingly beautiful melody of Kol Nidre, our beit Din - our court - issued the following decree:

B'yishiva shel Malah u'vyishiva shel Mata, al dat ha makom v'al data ha-kahal anu matirim l'hitpaleyl im ha-avaryanim

In the heavenly and the earthly court, by consent of God and by consent of this community, we are permitted to pray with avaryanim - with sinners.

This ancient formula always precedes the chanting of the Kol Nidre. But what does it mean when the beyt Din proclaims: "We are permitted to pray with sinners?"

There are actually several theories:

One theory is that the avaryanim were the Marranos; the Jews of Spain and Portugal who, during and following the Inquisition, disguised themselves as Christians. But once a year, when Kol Nidre came, they felt the tug of tradition and they slipped into the synagogue and asked to be admitted. Other commentators do not agree with this theory. They say that this declaration could not possibly have referred to the Marranos because it pre-dates the Inquisition and probably has it's origins in Ashkenazic, not Sephardic sources.

Another theory is that refers to the philosophers - the rationalists - the epicorsim: those who challenged their faith by asking radical, even heretical questions - about God, about Torah, about Justice. Most of the year these people boycotted the Jewish community. But when Kol Nidre came, they, too, felt a tug, rational or not, and they wanted to come in and pray

The third theory as to the identity of these avaryanim is the simplest and yet, it is the most profound.

There's a story that tells of how one day God was looking down at Earth and saw all of the evil that happening down below. As a result, God decided to do some investigative reporting. So God called for an angel and sent her down to check it out. When she returned she told God, yes it is bad on Earth - very bad. 95% of the people are sinners and 5% are not.

God was not pleased. God thought for a moment and decided to send down a different angel to get a second opinion. When the second angel returned he went to God and said: "Yes, the Earth is in a major decline. 95% of the people are sinners and 5% are not."

God said "This is not good. But at least there are the 5% who are not sinners."

So God decided to send e-mail to that 5% in order to encourage them and give them hope.
Do you know what that e-mail said?

Neither do I. I didn't get one either.

Anu matirim l'hitpaleyl im ha-avaryanim.....

We are permitted to pray with sinners....

The avaryanim are us, my friends. They are you and me: All of us - the plain, simple, ordinary everyday sinners, who cheat a little, steal a little, lie a little. We are the ones who are impatient with our spouses and children; who yell when we know we shouldn't, who perpetrate a hundred small cruelties, and cut moral corners every day of our lives. We are the imperfect ones. We are the ones who, for the next 24 hours, will be standing before God and pleading for forgiveness for our sins and those of those around us.

Tomorrow afternoon we will read the story of Jonah. Jonah was an unlikely candidate for a prophet. Not only was he reluctant - he was down-right defiant - even petulant. He tried to escape God's call by boarding a ship and sailing as far away as he could. Soon after setting sail, a mighty storm came that threatened the entire ship and crew. When Jonah was discovered to be the cause of the storm, the captain and crew of the ship asked him the following questions:

What is your occupation? Where do you come from? What is your country? And of what people are you?"

*****

9. And he said to them,

"Ivri Anochi - I am a Hebrew....."

The word, Ivri is one of the oldest names for the Jewish people. It dates back to Abraham. The authors of the book of Jonah knew what they were doing when they put those words in his mouth because if we look closely at the word, Ivri, we can also see that it has the same root as Avaryanim (sinners): - ayin, vet, resh. In other words, to say, "I am a Jew," is also to say "I am a sinner." I am imperfect. Jonah has to come to terms with his own imperfections in the belly of the boat and of the beast, so to speak.

Tonight, before we chanted Kol Nidre, our communal beit din - our Rabbinic Court - came along to say - there is no such thing as a morally unblemished human being. There is only us - the avaryanim -the sinners -the Ivrim - the Hebrews - the imperfect and the incomplete - not only are we permitted to pray with avaryanim - we are required to pray with them; there is no one else with whom to pray! And it is precisely because we are avaryanim that we need each other so much.

The Talmud tells a fascinating story at the very end of Yoma, the tractate which addresses Yom Kippur. Rav, the great Scholar, had a falling-out with a local butcher. In some way, at some time this butcher had sinned against Rav. But the butcher never came to the Rabbi's house to do Teshuvah - to try to make amends. Finally, on Erev Yom Kippur. Rav himself went to the butcher in order to do teshuvah.. The great rabbi walked into the butcher's shop and found him busy cutting meat.

Eventually, the man looked up from his work and saw Rav, and he said: "Ah, it's you - go away! I have nothing with you - no business with you; nothing to say to you; I have nothing in common with you!" Rav remained silent. The butcher turned back to his meat; he raised his cleaver and swung it down, and as he did, a fragment of bone shot up at him and killed him.

What is the point of this story? Is it to teach us never to insult a rabbi? Is it to show the power of a Talmudic scholar?

I believe that the message is much deeper. I believe that the butcher does not die because he insulted Rav; his death is God's way of responding to what he had just said to Rav: "Go away; you and I have nothing in common!" Indeed, he had a great deal in common with Rav - his mortality. The response is death - not merely as a punishment - but to teach us that the one thing all of humanity has in common is the fact that one day, death will takes us all. We don't want to think about it, but there is no greater Truth. The butcher denies this basic connection between himself and the rabbi; he insists that they have nothing in common, and therefore he has no need to talk or to reconcile with him. God, in effect, is saying to the butcher, "You don't understand; you have everything in common with Rav. You are both mortal; you are both limited; you are both imperfect; you are both human."

This is what it means to pray with Avaryanim - with sinners, for by accepting the fact that every one of us is a sinner, we are joining together and acknowledging our bond of weakness. Ironically, this is also our strength. The butcher could not ask forgiveness of Rav because he refused to acknowledge that he was flawed. But once we stop pretending, once we realize that we are all limited and all flawed - that we are all avaryanim - sinners - then and only then can we ask forgiveness of others and grant it to them as well.

Once we come to terms with our own weakness, we can move on to our main task on this Yom Ha Din - this day of judgment: The task of Teshuvah - repentance. The Mitzvah of Teshuvah teaches us that we live life to the fullest when we connect fully with those around us. Tomorrow, when we recite the full litany of confession in the Al Cheyt prayers, I want you to notice that we list only those sins we have committed against others - not sins we have committed against God. The essence of teshuva is in the reestablishing of balance in our relationships. When we do teshuvah, we acknowledge the fact that we are all works in progress. We are aware that our actions impact others; that it is essential that we maintain the health of our relationships - with our loved ones, our friends, our colleagues - even with our enemies - or those whom we think are our enemies.

We share so much - all of us. Our hopes, our dreams, our flaws and imperfections..... But sometimes we lose track of this basic fact .......

I can't tell you how many times I have sat in my study, or stood on this Bema and watched how people forget that everyone is flawed - that everyone is a sinner. I have seen how families and friends can destroy each other: fathers and mothers who once shared a vision of the future and now use their children as weapons to hurt the other. I have seen brothers and sisters, parents and children who refuse to talk to each other. I have seen former friends who turn into enemies - pretending that the other does not exist - holding on to grudges - nurturing them, feeding them with anger, rage and sorrow. I have seen myself succumbing to anger and mistrust over small pettiness and items of no concern.

And then there are the truly heart-wrenching moments - the times when there is no more time. The times when the realization sets in that the flaws that we detested in others were only a small part of their totality - but now it is too late. The most painful words that I hear over and over again are "...if only..." I hear them said by children, spouses, siblings and friends sitting by a hospital bed or standing at the grave of a loved one: "If only I told him that I loved him more often......" "If only I wasn't so stubborn...." "If only I spent more time...." "If only...."

Don't put off telling those whom you love that you love them - you may never have another chance. Make amends - do it tonight, before it's too late. Speak to your estranged family and friends. Stop the fighting. Do Teshuvah - even more important - accept other's teshuvah and forgive them.

We are all avaryanim, my friends. We all possess great beauty and great ugliness. Our worth is measured, not by our wealth, or even our wisdom but by the degree to which we accept our own flaws and those of others around us.

A story is told of a very wealthy observant Jew who died. After he had bequeathed a sizable majority of his estate to Charity, he still left behind a huge fortune for his children. He left two wills, directing that one be opened immediately, and the second be opened after the Sheloshim (30 days of mourning after burial).

Among the instructions left in the first will was a request he be buried with a certain pair of socks that he owned. The man's children immediately brought the socks to the Chevra Kadisha (Jewish burial society), requesting that their father be buried in them.

The Chevra Kadisha refused their request, reminding the family that it's against the Halachah (Jewish law) to be buried in anything other than a traditional burial shroud.

They pleaded, explaining that their father was a very holy, pious and learned man, and he obviously had a very good reason to make this request. The Chevra Kadisha remained firm in their refusal.

The family frantically summoned the Chevra Kadisha to a Beit Din, where the Rabbi gently explained to them, "Although your father left that request when he was on this world, now that he's in the world of truth, he surely understands that it is in his best interests to be buried without the socks.

The man was buried without his socks.

30 days later, the second will was opened, and it read something like this:

"My dear children. By now you must have buried me without my socks. I wanted you to truly understand that a man can have 1 billion dollars, but in the end, he can't even take along one pair of socks!

My dear friends, we are ALL AVARYANIM - we are all sinners. That is the message of our service tonight. That is why we come here. During the next 24 hours we will have opportunities to reflect on how we allow our own sins to impact our lives - and the lives of those around us. Remember - no matter how much we may feel slighted or hurt or even betrayed by others, all of us are equal in the eyes of God.

B'yishiva shel Malah u'vyishiva shel Mata, al dat ha makom v'al data ha-kahal anu matirim l'hitpaleyl im ha-avaryanim

In the heavenly and the earthly court, by consent of God and by consent of this community, we are permitted to pray with avaryanim - with sinners.

G'mar Chatimah Tovah - my you all be sealed for a blessing in the book of life.

AMEN