As we enter into the Yamim Noraim this month, my mind's ear is preparing for the awesome sounds of the season. Yom Kippur is framed by two unique sounds that stir our collective Jewish souls: worship begins with the haunting melody of Kol Nidre, and ends some 24 hours later with one long blast of the shofar. On this most awesome Day of At-One-ment, we as a community at Temple Micah literally stand as One to hear these two ancient sounds. They enter our ears, pass quickly through our brains, glide past the heart, and touch our souls.

No one is quite sure of the origin of the Kol Nidre. The tune is one of a few "Mi-Sinai" melodies that are said to be so old they came to us at Mount Sinai. The earliest known mention of a specific -- rather than an improvised -- melody dates from the 16th century. The earliest surviving musical notation is the work of the 18th-century cantor Ahron Beer, and is closely related to the version used by Max Bruch in 1880 for his "Variations for Cello and Orchestra." Other composers, such as Arnold Schoenberg (1938), used the Kol Nidre melody as a basis for musical compositions.

At Temple Micah, Kol Nidre begins quietly with Meryl Weiner's voice and slowly gathers vocal and spiritual force. When the chant begins a second time, worshippers join in, as the spirit moves, until everyone is singing along. By the third time through, there is an atmosphere of unity and exaltation in the room: we have arrived at the most powerful, emotional moment of the Jewish liturgical year, and we feel a sense of release, a sense of readiness for the spiritual and physical exertions of Yom Kippur.

Kol Nidre, in the beginning, expresses sadness, heartbreak and failure. The minor mode is familiar to us all, especially in the opening line. The major-sounding mode at the end depicts a feeling of joy, exaltation and victory, only to be heard one more time during our Yom Kippur services. After the Yizkor service, after the Ne-ilah service, after Havdalah, the very end of the day is marked with the sounding of the shofar -- the tekiah gedolah. After a day of fasting, of prayers for change, of hearing our sins pass before us -- individually and as a community -- a note is sounded calling us to rise above it all, in triumph. Thus, we have traveled from failure to triumph.

We read the story of Jonah on Yom Kippur afternoon. The story of Jonah is a journey from failure to triumph. Much like Jonah, who tries to run away from God's command, we, too, try to run away from God, thinking we are in charge of the world. (The recent wrath of Nature in the Gulf Coast reminds us how insignificant we are.) In the midst of the storm, Jonah changes course and places himself entirely in God's hands. It is that kind of transformation that we contemplate on Yom Kippur. It is that kind of transformation that is brought to mind when we hear the haunting Kol Nidre melody at the beginning of the day and the mighty blast of the Shofar at the end. This is what teshuvah is all about -- we, too, can change the course of our lives.