There are few moments in the Jewish year as powerful as the opening of Kol Nidre. As the congregation gathers on Erev Yom Kippur, the familiar melody begins, the Torah scrolls are held before us, and the words of Kol Nidre fill the sanctuary. It is a moment that touches something deep within us.

Kol Nidre literally means “All Vows.” At its most basic level, the prayer concerns vows and promises that we may have made and failed to fulfill. But its emotional power reaches far beyond the technical meaning of the words. It reminds us of something profoundly human: we are not perfect, and neither are the people around us.

Yom Kippur gives us an opportunity to acknowledge our mistakes, seek forgiveness, and begin again. Yet Jewish tradition makes an important distinction. We cannot simply ask God to forgive us for hurting another person. If our actions have caused pain, we must make the effort to seek forgiveness from the person we have wronged. The Mishnah teaches that Yom Kippur does not atone for sins between one person and another until forgiveness has been sought.

That teaching can be challenging. Sometimes saying “I’m sorry” is difficult. Sometimes we believe the other person should apologize first. Sometimes an old disagreement has gone on for so long that we cannot even remember how it began.

But Kol Nidre invites us to take the first step.

Forgiveness does not mean pretending that nothing happened. It does not mean saying that hurtful behavior was acceptable. And forgiveness does not always mean restoring a relationship to exactly what it was before. Rather, forgiveness can mean choosing not to allow anger, resentment, or an old wound to control our lives any longer.

There is also another side to forgiveness: forgiving ourselves.

Many of us carry regrets into the High Holy Days. We remember words we wish we had never spoken, opportunities we wish we had taken, relationships we wish we had handled differently. We may look back and think, “If only I had known then what I know now.”

But that is part of being human. Jewish tradition calls us toward teshuvah—turning, returning, and changing our direction. We acknowledge what we have done, make amends when possible, learn from our mistakes, and try to become better people.

Perhaps this is one of the deeper messages of Kol Nidre. We enter Yom Kippur recognizing our human frailty. We know that we have failed in ways large and small. We also know that others have failed us. Yet we gather together as a community and say, in effect: we will not give up on ourselves, and we will not give up on one another.

Immediately following Kol Nidre, the congregation traditionally proclaims the biblical words, “May the entire congregation of Israel be forgiven,” emphasizing that forgiveness belongs to the whole community. The message is one of inclusion: there is room for all of us, even with our imperfections, mistakes, and shortcomings.

As we prepare for Kol Nidre this year, perhaps we can ask ourselves three simple questions:

Whom do I need to forgive?

From whom do I need to ask forgiveness?

What do I need to forgive myself for?

We may not be able to resolve every hurt or repair every relationship. But we can take a step. We can make a phone call. We can send a message. We can say, “I’m sorry.” We can say, “I forgive you.” Or perhaps we can simply make the quiet decision in our own hearts to let go of something we have carried for too long.

When the Kol Nidre melody rises through our sanctuary along with our quartet, the cello, and our accompanist Zvi Klein, may we hear more than the words of an ancient prayer. May we hear an invitation—to release the past, to repair what can be repaired, to forgive where we can forgive, and to enter the New Year with lighter hearts.

G’mar Chatimah Tovah. May we all be sealed for a year of peace, health, kindness, and forgiveness.