My favorite Kol Nidre is in the 300-year-old Portuguese shul Beth Jehoeda, with a mostly Ashkenazi congregation, in my hometown of The Hague.
With its inner courtyard, hidden between buildings, corridors and walls, it is sandwiched between the Turkish Embassy on one side and the more-than 300-year-old building of the first Order of Freemasons in the Netherlands on the other side. The Dutch police booth sits at the front entrance for added security, but in those days we all used the back entrance through a small gate in the wall. During the High Holidays, everyone is stuffed inside as if fitted with a shoehorn, sitting cheek by jowl. It is almost impossible to shift position and somehow it is the most heimish and comforting feeling imaginable. The lit candles in the candelabras only augment that feeling of being fully at home. The crowded space dissolves into a collective warmth. The yearning remains.
Yom Kippur is my favorite holiday. The fact that I have to ask for forgiveness from my fellow earth dwellers makes total sense. To hold myself accountable for who I am realistically and ethically. Yom Kippur and I have a close relationship to begin with; my husband was born on Yom Kippur day and my mom passed away on Erev during Kol Nidre.
Beth Jehoeda is the shul where I grew into adulthood with one of the most remarkable rabbis, Awraham Soetendorp, who has since retired. During Shabbat services, Rabbi Soetendorp used to hold our then baby son, who did not make a peep while being held. When our son reached bar mitzvah age, he returned there to mark the rite of passage as a Dutch Jew. That is significant, as our community is small, especially since the Holocaust. When we traced my father’s and maternal grandfather’s respective lineage back to 16th century Portugal and Northern Spain, it made even more sense – this old Portuguese shul fits us.
However, we are also Milwaukeeans. With my beloved in-laws we would celebrate the High Holidays here in the same spirit of togetherness, belonging, learning and growing together (and eating). That spirit, that Jewish essence instilled in my small shul in The Hague travels with me. So wherever we may find ourselves during the holidays, we find Jews and celebrate with them, regardless of how people observe. Just Jews being with one another, celebrating differences in food and thought and finding common ground through our ethnicity, culture and faith. Feeling the connection through time and place, those who came before us and those that are yet to come. Bonding across geographical, ideological or cultural differences.
This year, and every year, I choose our worldwide Jewish family, our Jewish people.
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