ROSH HASHANAH 5786 SECTION D, PAGE 23
When the September air condensed into morning and the world was still dewy, when morning had barely broken and the peaceful silence and potential of a new day permeated the atmosphere, when I was still sleepy, there would be a faint knock on the window, followed by a man’s voice: “Selichos selichos” and “Hashkem la-avodat ha-Borei” — “Selichos, rouse to service of the Creator.”
I would hurry to the window to catch a glimpse. As little as I was, I arrived at the window in time to see his retreating figure, his head and upper body shrouded in a tallis, on the way to the next window he was about to tap. Window by window, gently rousing the neighborhood to awaken and begin their day — another morning in Elul, in the final lead up to Rosh Hashanah, on this holy note.
Even then, in real time, this fleeting moment, felt mystical and otherworldly to me.
Selichot. Elul’s penitential prayers.
I hadn’t yet experienced an actual Selichot prayer service. But my soul had already been imprinted and infused with the holiness and emotion of this prayer.
Once I was a bit older, I began joining my father for the inaugural midnight Selichot prayer service in our Ashkenaz tradition, usually on the last Saturday night prior to Rosh Hashanah.
Finally I encountered the actual Selichot service. Where we encounter G-d, we encounter ourselves. We pour our hearts into the tear filled prayer of “Machnisei Rachamim” (those who bring in mercy) and the mantra experience of repeatedly reciting G-d’s 13 attributes of mercy.
As the years went by and I was older and no longer in Jerusalem, the midnight Selichot tradition became just that, a tradition. Some years I was ambitious and continued attending the Selichot prayers throughout the week leading up to Rosh Hashanah.
Once I moved back to Jerusalem in my late twenties, a new iteration of Selichot came on the scene: musical Selichot.
It was quite different and very inspiring — and it spoke to me. Even as the thought of singing prayers whose themes centered on regrets, remorse, mistakes, forgiveness and G-d’s mercy could be conceived as dissonant with the content of the prayers, the Selichot prayers were imbued with a depth of emotion that was very moving.
Then came midnight Selichot strolls under starry nights around my relatively Old-Jerusalem neighborhood. Meandering the alleyways and narrow streets — Jerusalem streets that held stories all their own, of pilgrimages, of clusters of Sephardic refugee groups transplanting their shuls, or batei knesset from their former countries which they had escaped by the skin of their teeth, and of Old-World Jerusalem shuls, of “Yerushalmim.”
In those midnight moments, in those magical Selichot strolls, it was like traversing a slice of “Heavenly Jerusalem” right here on earth.
At some point there was a convergence. The musical, transportive Jerusalem and the Selichot stroll culminated in the powerful collective Selichot of Israeli Jews streaming to the Kotel, the Wailing Wall. The cadence of the Selichot, imbued with the emotion of so many crying out the prayers, truly is soul-stirring.
The classic Ashkenaz versions of the raw human voice’s prayer is tinged with a tone of awe and trembling. The more New-Age trending Selichot are imbued with a spiritual yearning, a human voice intertwined with musical accompaniment. And the heartfelt Sephardic Selichot, imbued with almost a kind of joy, yes joy, for having the opportunity to praise G-d and cleave to G-d and be loved and be forgiven.
At two in the morning, streams of young and old could often be seen walking through the winding Jewish Quarter of the Old City of Jerusalem or the wide shallow steps of the shuttered Muslim market “souk,” briskly or at a snail’s pace — depending on going to or coming from the Kotel, about to begin or having just completed the Penitential Selichot prayers of Elul.
“Shana Tova,” “Shana Tova u’Metuka,” passers-by murmur to one another. “May it be a sweet year.” “‘May all the prayers ascend to Heaven.” “‘May all your prayers be received in mercy.”
These are the unplanned utterances on the way to and from Selichot at the Wailing Wall, that break up the perfect September Jerusalem velvet night air.
A true Selichot stroll.
I thought I had experienced the full sweep of Selichot evenings and prayer services, across the range of varying customs and traditions.
But apparently there was one I hadn’t yet experienced.
Selichot, absolutely shattering Selichot, at the Kotel during war time. Selichot last year nearly one year since Oct. 7, and this year, nearly two full years since.
Selichot, when I pen these words on day 710 since 7-10, when captives are still confined in underground dungeon tunnels, fading, decaying, suffering.
This time, the usual journey of Selichot replete with the pouring forth of vulnerable pain of regrets, errors, repairs, and hope and forgiveness was beside the point. Now, Selichot from the depths of a collective primal cry and scream of the collective at the Kotel under the sparkling starry night, Selichot shaking the heavens with prayer and petition, distilled into one singular united imploring and beseeching of the Divine.
Let this war end in strength and future safety for Am Yisrael!
Please return all the very heroic and precious soldiers, whole in mind and body!
Let the harrowing tormenting suffering hostages’ ordeal end already. Let them be released back into the embrace of their loved ones, before the clutches of pure evil swallow them whole.
These Selichot are a far cry from the dew-filled mornings of the gentle, tallis-clad knock on the window of my childhood.
Indeed, may this be a sweet year.
May all the prayers ascend to Heaven.
May all our prayers be received in mercy.
Shana Tova u’Metuka, dear readers. May we all be inscribed in the Book of Life.
© IJN 2025
