We Will Disappoint You

The Reverend Nadia Bolz-Weber is not exactly your typical Lutheran pastor. For starters, her arms are covered in tattoos. She is a recovering alcoholic and drug abuser. Before she went to seminary, she had previously worked as a stand-up comedian. And as if her biography did not already signify that she is not your typical pastor, consider the name of the church that she founded in Denver, Colorado. The church is called: the House for all Sinners and Saints.

But the uncommon things about Reverend Bolz-Weber do not end there. Whenever a prospective congregant approaches her about becoming a part of the church community, she says something rather unusual to them. Of course, she says: “Welcome. We’re glad you’re here.” And also: “Tell us about yourself; we’d love to get to know you.” But in addition to these pleasantries, the Reverend makes a point to say to every new congregant in her church: “Welcome to the House of All Sinners and Saints. I can promise you this: We will disappoint you.”

It might seem like an unusual way to make a first impression. But there is something deeply human and wise about these words. In every relationship, it is a fact that we will indeed, on occasion, disappoint one another. And rather than having her congregants put the church on a pedestal, unrealistically imagining that the church will always get everything right, Pastor Bolz-Weber assures her congregants in advance that, try as they might, the church will indeed sometimes get things wrong. “Welcome to the House of All Sinners and Saints. We will disappoint you.”

This, precisely, is the message of the evening of Kol Nidre. We will stand with the Torah scroll in our arms, and the ark wide open, and affirm that, in the coming year, we, as human beings, will surely disappoint people. We will sometimes say the wrong thing. We will, on occasion, not show up for somebody when they needed us. We will make a decision about which the people in our lives don’t approve. And although we commit to trying our best, these moments of disappointment are certain and inevitable.

It is as if our tradition is telling us: we don’t have to be perfect. Indeed, we can’t be perfect. And when we take that unrealistic expectation off the table, we are left only with what is possible. We will surely disappoint people. So the question is: what will we do after we’ve disappointed them? 

This is the question that Kol Nidre – and, indeed, the entire holiday of Yom Kippur – asks us.

So: Welcome to the new Jewish year of 5785. We will disappoint each other. What will we do after that?