Parashat Nitzavim-VaYelekh Deuteronomy 29:9-31:30

Seventh Haftarah of Consolation, Isaiah 61:10-63:9

Dear TBE Community,

When Selichot comes around, you really know Rosh Hashanah is close. While Sephardi communities recite selichot, penitential prayers, every day throughout the month of Elul, the tradition most of you might be familiar with is to gather on the evening of the last Shabbat before Rosh Hashanah and sing yourself into the mood of the Days of Awe, like a familiar sneak preview of the Best of hits of the High Holidays.

At Temple Beth El, it has been customary for many years to also change the mantles of the Torah scrolls from their year-round garb to the special, white covers that herald the coming of the new year. It’s an activity for all ages, and I look forward to ringing in the last week of 5786 with you.

Selichot opens the gate wide for us to walk toward the future, the new year, with confidence and splendor, as in this week’s haftarah, the last and culminating haftarah of consolation, but also with earnest and honest contemplation. What will we do to honor and choose life, as this week’s parasha calls us to?

When I think of Selichot, I always think of community. When I lived in Brooklyn, there was a tradition, it still is ongoing, that many congregations from across the denominational spectrum would come together for a joint song circle. The event was – is – called Selichot Across Brooklyn. In a room with the lights dimmed to create a reflective and meditative atmosphere, there would be several rows of chairs set up in ever larger circles. In the center were but a few chairs, they were for the ones that knew the prayers and songs well, could start them off, lead with a guitar or drum. And then people could seat themselves depending on their comfort zone — closer to the center, further away. But everyone could feel part of this large community-wide prayerful song-circle. It was an evening where you see folks you hadn’t seen in a while, where you knew that you would find your friends without previous plans. And I also like to think back at the contemplative moments, how I would ride my bicycle home on those nights, the late summer air still caressing the skin but already infused with the light chill of early fall, humming the melodies of Ashamnu or Hashiveinu, or Adon HaSelichot.

We all may have a song without which a certain holiday isn’t quite complete. I can’t imagine an evening of Selichot without Adon HaSelichot.

Just as I always remember those last days of a fading year in Brooklyn, I will never forget the first time I heard, and sang, this piyyut, this prayer at the Kotel in Jerusalem. The place was packed, and everyone sang along, in a call and response between leader and kahal, those gathered. There has been so much political tension and religious fundamentalist fighting around and at the Kotel that I can’t disassociate from thinking of this sacred place, but I still honor the feeling of awe, even incredulous belonging, from that first High Holiday season in Jerusalem.

And then yesterday, I drove up to a concert at the Pico Union Project, to a pre-Selichot gathering that felt a little bit like Selichot Across Brooklyn. I ran into many friends and folks I hadn’t seen in a while and rabbis from diverse LA communities, from non-denominational to modern orthodox – Der Nister, Nefesh, Ikar, Bn’ai David-Judea and Temple Beth Israel – spoke about love and unity. An eclectic group of musicians from across Los Angeles performed a set of uplifting songs and traditional piyyutim, including, of course, Adon HaSelichot.

For the poet, the paytan, God is the Master (Adon) of (ha) Forgiveness (Selichot). And then the lyrics list an alphabetical list of how that manifests, interrupted by the repeated chorus that also ends the poem: We have sinned before you, have mercy on us.

Master of forgiveness, Who examines hearts, Who reveals depths, Who speaks righteousness.

Who is glorious in wonders, Who is eternal in consolations, Who remembers the covenant with our fathers, who delves into our innermost parts.

Who is good and does good to living beings, Who knows all hidden matters,

Who extinguishes wrongdoing, Who wears righteousness.

Who is filled with merit, Who is awesome in praises, Who forgives wrongdoing, Who answers requests.

Who works redemption, Who sees the future, Who calls out the generations, Who rides in the heavens, Who hears prayers, Who is pure in knowledge.

The acrostic follows the Hebrew aleph-bet, and some translations try to mimic that pattern in English, but I wanted to give you a full version of the lyrics. On the same website where I found this translation, there also is a transliteration, and the Hebrew words are here.

As a poet I am not a particular fan of acrostics, they often try too hard, but when it’s done well, like with several Jewish poems and prayers, it can be very powerful. And I think the anonymous writer who is believed to have composed Adon HaSelichot sometime around the 12th century managed to embrace so many aspects of God that we appeal to during the High Holidays, even in an English translation. I really like “Who delves into our innermost parts”, “Who is awesome in praises,” “Who calls out the generations,” “Who rides the heavens,” “Who is pure in knowledge” — but I like them all. Which verses speak most to you?

I gave you (hopefully) much to think about, but certainly much to click on! These links are an invitation to go down rabbit holes, to read up on something that sparks your interest here, to travel a bit across Jewish Los Angeles.

May this last Shabbat of 5786 be a Shabbat of love and unity, of splendor and confidence, of contemplation and honesty, filled with community, poetry, and song.

Shabbat Shalom!
Rabbi Julia Knobloch