The highlight of the ancient Yom Kippur service was the entrance of the Kohen Gadol into the Kodesh Ha-Kedoshim. This once-a-year event provided for the “triple crown” of holiness: the convergence of the holiest person in the holiest place on the holiest day. The combined kedushah was so intense that one slip of the Kohen Gadol’s concentration could result in the loss of his life. Upon safely completing this most important and daunting task there was understandable relief on the part of the Kohen Gadol and, as a result, he offered a heartfelt and beautiful prayer to God.  

The Mishna (Yoma 5:1) and Talmud (Yoma 53b) both cite versions of this prayer and in our Machzorim (Artscroll p. 570) we include an alphabetically arranged, poetic embellishment of the text. What is so beautiful about this prayer is that it is so real and direct; touching on all of our aspirations – from prosaic to sublime – as all of our needs – both spiritual and physical – are addressed.  

Interestingly, upon closer study it becomes clear that there is something surprising about the structure of this prayer. After 22 different requests– corresponding to the entirety of the Hebrew alphabet – there are a few additional requests. R. Bernard Weinberger (Shemen HaTov, Moadim pp. 97-99) observes that the inclusion of these additional prayers – after the tefillah should ostensibly have been completed – suggests a particular significance to these bakashos.  

“Shanah she’lo tapil ishah peri bitnah” – the first of these requests is that in the coming year women should be spared the pain of miscarrying. The obvious question is what about this particular tragedy – out of all the possible difficulties that could befall someone – singles it out for special mention?  

Pregnancy is full of all sorts of discomforts, ranging from physical to emotional. Yet all of this is courageously accepted in the great anticipation of the reward of a healthy and beautiful baby. When a miscarriage occurs, all of the previous sacrifice was for nothing, all of the hopes that pushed the expectant mother through the hardships are dashed and all of her dreams go unfulfilled. The searing pain from such a tragedy cannot be overstated. 

Thus understood, there is a broader significance to this tefillah as well; one doesn’t have to be an expectant mother to experience the pain of unfulfilled dreams and unredeemed sacrifices. There are countless other examples of this type of tragedy and the Kohen Gadol prays for protection from all of them. We are willing to sacrifice. We just pray that our sacrifice not be for naught but, rather, in service of a higher purpose. 

“Shanah she-ta’alenu semeichim l’artzenu” – next he prays that our aliyah to Israel be joyous. The focus here isn’t on the aliyah per se, but the circumstances that surround it.  

One of the painful and consistent characteristics of our Diaspora experience has been the phenomenon of once hospitable host countries changing their attitudes and eventually persecuting us. A small consolation has been that – at least sometimes – Jews have been able to flee to the safe haven of Eretz Yisroel.

While we were obviously grateful to have somewhere to run, the Kohen Gadol prays for a different reality. He prays for a time when people aren’t forced to flee from somewhere else, but freely choose to run to Israel.

Rav Nachman Kahana beautifully explains that this duality is contained in the famous pesukim we read in the Haftorah on the second day of Rosh Hashana. “Ki yesh sa’char lif’ulaseich ne'um Hashem, v'shavu mei’eretz oyaiv” – your efforts will be rewarded as you return from the land of your enemies; “V'yeish tikvah l’achriseich ne'um Hashem, v'shavu vanim ligvulam” – there is hope for you ultimately, as your children will return to your border.  

Interestingly, we are only referred to as God’s children in the second half of the verse. R. Kahana suggests that this is because the two parts of the pasuk refer to two different types of aliyah. The first refers to those who are fleeing an enemy pursuer. But the second refers to those who are not compelled to return by anything other than the desire of a child to be closer to his or her mother – “v'shavu vanim ligvulam”  

This is what the Kohen Gadol is asking for: we should ascend “semeichim” to our homeland. 

Additionally, I would add that there are many other forms of aliyah – in the broad sense of spiritual growth – that we aspire to, and with these, as well, their motivation can come from different sources. Moments of great crisis or calamity, just as experiences of great achievement and accomplishment, can lead to spiritual aliyah.  

“She-ta’alenu semeichim l’artzenu” can also be understood to expresses the hope that the inspiration for our ascent come not from trial or tribulation but from God’s manifest blessing. 

Finally, the Kohen Gadol requests “shanah she’lo yitz’tarchu amcha Beis Yisroel zeh la’zeh v’lo l’am acher” – a year in which we are each able to maintain our independence, not reliant on the help of others. In addition to the obvious benefit of preserving our dignity, there may be an additional meaning as well.  

In bentching we ask that we not be forced to depend on “matnas bassar va’dam ve’lo li’dei halva’asam,” the largesse and loans of other people. Here too the simple meaning of our request is aimed at avoiding the obvious embarrassment of needing the help of others.  

But my rebbe, Rav Mayer Twersky, explained that the more profound fear is that if we become reliant on others we run the risk of forgetting who the ultimate source of all blessing and bounty is. The danger is that an appropriate appreciation of friends who have offered help could cloud out a sense of gratitude to the Ribbono Shel Olam who is, of course, the real supplier to all, including our generous friend. 

This may be the deeper point of the bakashah by the Kohen Gadol as well. Financial independence will enable us to preserve a direct connection to Hashem as the source of blessing in our lives. Otherwise there is a risk of playing a game of “Spiritual Telephone” in which God must take His place in the back of the line – and may be forgotten altogether.  

This Yom Kippur let us similarly daven for these vital blessings: that any difficulties we endure be redeemed as sacrifices on the altar of a larger good; that the aliyos in our lives be inspired by love not fear; and that we remain independent enough to realize our direct dependence on Hashem.  

With best wishes for a Gemar Chasima Tovah.