Selichot, the word for sacred Elul prayers leading up to Rosh Hashanah, are known as “penitential prayers” in English. In Hebrew, Selichot has a different vibe because the word selicha, which is “I’m sorry,” is enfolded in it. You literally can hear the word selicha, I’m sorry, in the word Selichot.
One a.m open air gatherings of thousands of Jews crying out Selichot at the Kotel Plaza has long been a touchstone of Elul in Jerusalem.
These days, with COVID, I don’t know whether that’s possible right now.
But nonetheless, the other night there was a deeply moving Selichot gathering. It was out of doors and it numbered in the thousands. And it was 1 a.m. Only it wasn’t at a synagogue or a designated holy site. Well, at least not a conventional one.
It was at the gates of Soroka Hospital in Beersheba.
A fighter, an IDF soldier serving to protect us at the Israeli border, had been wounded critically. He was now lying in a hospital bed battling for his life.
This soldier, Bar-el Achiya ben Nitza and Yossi, is an only child. His father came undone. His raw anguish and terror in the face of contemplating the loss of his only son broke a nation’s heart.
Without batting an eye and without any organization planning it, one by one the Jewish people had the same thought. They descended upon Soroka Hospital to cry out and pray. This gathering grew into the thousands thundering Selichot in hopes of bringing healing to beloved Bar-el.
Because it morphed into a cry in the night like a Selichot prayer, it’s almost like Soroka Hospital was enveloped by an atmosphere charged with a cacophony of I’m sorry I’m sorry I’m sorry, as Selichot encases selicha.
The power of an apology can transform situations from fraught, painful, unforgiving and cut off to restoring connection, trust, closeness and hope.
Yet, saying I’m sorry is one of the hardest things to do.
Bar-el has been surrounded by these Selichot-selicha prayers, the ones that burst forth from our deepest most vulnerable of spaces.
Soroka Hospital has become a pilgrimage for a nation that is insisting on demonstrating to Bar-el’s family how loved he is and how united Am Yisrael is in praying together for his healing.
Imagine, an entire nation going to these lengths. For one single soldier. It is at times like these, when the chips are down, that we have this sense that we the Jewish people truly are one family. It breaks through any other barriers that may stubbornly exist.
Beyond Soroka, though, the entire country seems to have embraced praying for Bar-el Achiya ben Nitza and Yossi.
Strolling through the various souks, the nut shops have platters of nuts and dried fruit with a sign reading, “Please partake with a blessing on behalf of healing for the fighter Bar-el Achiya ben Nitza and Yossi.” The Mi-shebeirach prayer follows. Treat shops, bakeries and more have been serving up such platters adorned by these signs urging the masses to bless and pray on this soldier’s behalf.
Sometimes prayer is a whisper, sometimes it is silent. Sometimes prayer is solitary. Other times, it is collaborative or dialogical. At times, it is wordless, and other times it is a primal scream of the shofar.
But sometimes prayer is a roar. A roar of the masses. Traditionally, that’s the kind of prayers the Selichot are at the Wailing Wall, the Kotel.
That was precisely what the roar of a prayer at the gates of Soroka was and throughout the land; the pleading roar of a nation for one wounded soldier fighting for his life.
It is with such expressions of unity and acts of unconditional love for one another that the Jewish people can prevail.
Saying “I’m sorry” is a brave choice that hopefully leads to the beginning of some kind of restoration. A restoration of dignity, a restoration of relationship, a potential path to restoration of rebuilding something that has been broken.
With the powerful Selichot prayers reverberating throughout the land of Israel, and especially cocooning Soroka Hospital, I hope all the thousands of Selichot — I’m sorrys — will help restore Bar-el’s health and healing and bring relief to his parents, weeping in fear for the life of their only child.
This is our nation of Israel. A nation’s heart exploding in a roar of collective prayer as it, like family, stands shoulder to shoulder with the parents of Bar-el, united in petitioning the Heavens to miraculously grant him healing. May it be so.
May we carry with us into the future this spiritually intimate and transformative spirit of Elul and Selichot, which pushes our hearts open to another’s pain in such a vulnerable, caring and deeply advocating manner.
Copyright © 2021 by the Intermountain Jewish News
