Brookwrite

Columns - 2013

    Kol Nidre the 13th, Part 13

    by Doug Brook
    Southern Jewish Life columnist

    The last time Kol Nidre fell on Friday the 13th was October, 1967. The next time will be October, 2062.

    2013 is the first Kol Nidre on Friday the 13th in September since 1861 -- which doesn't happen again for at least another thousand years, if ever.

    Since the founding of the United States, and for at least the next millennium, Kol Nidre on Friday the 13th has never, and will never, occur during a "13" year... Except now...

    It began as a Yom Kippur like any other Yom Kippur. Jews everywhere were almost done deciding which indiscretions they'd admit to by atoning for them. They then made themselves feel better by counting the ones for which they thought other people should atone.

    But on this dark and stormy Friday night, one group of Jews gathered for Kol Nidre at Camp Kippur Lake -- but they forgot about one particular prohibition. How can one be inscribed in the Book of Life if writing is prohibited on Shabbat?

    Of course, writing is prohibited on Yom Kippur, as well, but there are still a few Jews in the world so Somebody must have decided to let that one slide. But compounding the writing prohibition for Yom Kippur with Shabbat's?

    Camp Kippur Lake's reclusive, masked Messenger of Judgment, Jason Viduis, thought it too much to ignore. So he set out to do his own inscribing, but it wasn't in the Book of Life. And what he used for a pen, was mightier than any sword.

    Not since Rebbe Kruger doled out his own brand of judgment via his Nightmare on Chelm Street have the fruits of indiscretion slashed through a community so.

    But Jason Viduis, a prospective moyel until his tools of choice were deemed too cutting-edge, offered even less concession to each person's confession.

    It was the second time through the Kol Nidre prayer, when one seemingly plainspoken mensch standing in the back heard a whisper, "I know what you did last Sukkot." And then he never again heard anything at all.

    During the third time through the Kol Nidre prayer, an exceptionally terrestrial blonde coed heard a whisper, "What's your favorite scary vidui?" But all anyone else heard was her blood-curdling Schrei. Then Schrei 2. Then Schrei 3. And then -- needlessly, according to most critics -- Schrei 4. Her mortal mistake? Answering her phone... during services.

    By now, everyone at Camp Kippur Lake wished that Yom Kippur did not require people to wear white.

    The body count was rising to a level not seen at a Jewish ritual gathering since the mass Passover culinary catastrophe, the Texas Chrain Slaw Massacre.

    At this point, the question on everyone's minds -- the only way to save their lives -- was, what does the Talmud say about how much slashing is allowed at a Kol Nidre service?

    Conveniently, the recently-discovered Mishnah tractate Bava Gump includes an incisive discussion on this very topic.

    Slasher villains face several questions when preying on a Jewish service. Foremost, they must leave at least ten people alive through the end of the service. Not only does this free the villain from being responsible for jeopardizing a minyan, and leave plenty of survivors for multiple sequels -- it also preserves a minyan at which the slasher can atone for his (or her) sins.

    Such sins include, but are not limited to, slashing, disturbing others by disrupting the service, and -- the most heinous of all -- being a fan of the New York Y*nkees.

    However, does that not also mean that there must be at least ten victims, so they can preserve their own minyan in The World to Come? While this is logical, it does mean that after killing one victim the slasher is required to kill nine more, in rapid succession.

    This did not sit well with several Talmudic rabbis, one of whom additionally pointed out that the slasher shouldn't be allowed to kill anyone in the first place. He then went for a drink, said, "I'll be right back," and, naturally, was never seen again. The remaining rabbis quickly agreed to not go outside looking for him, and moved on to the next subject.

    In line with this Talmudic teaching, the Twentieth-Century commentator, Rabbi Norman of Congregation Beis Hotel, in his 1967 Kol Nidre sermon, drew this conclusion: At least Yom Kippur can never fall on Halloween.

    Doug Brook is a writer in Silicon Valley who thinks a Yom Kippur service with these horror villains would make for an easy fast -- they'd slash right through it. For past columns, other writings, and more, visit http://brookwrite.com/. For exclusive online content, like facebook.com/the.beholders.eye.

    Copyright Doug Brook. All rights reserved.