I had lived in Norfolk for a while when I met a “frum looking” Jew that I had never seen before. After the usual greetings, I asked him if he would like to spend some time learning with me once or twice a week. He responded in the affirmative and soon he was coming to my house two evenings a week to learn Mishnayos. It turned out that he had spent some time in yeshiva, was observant, wore a Yarmulke, kept all of the mitzvos, davened three times daily and learned regularly. The odd thing was that he never came to shul. Not once.
As we became friends I mentioned that I had never seen him in what was the only Orthodox shul in town. He gave me a vague answer. I suspect that there was another answer too, but not wanting to pry I didn’t pursue the issue.
We continued to learn every week, always at my home. Rosh Hashana came and went. My friend was very much in the High Holiday spirit and had blown the Shofar and davened, but he had still not come to shul.
A day or two after Rosh Hashana as we got together for our learning session, my Chavrusa asked me a favor. “Could you get a Beis Din together for me? I need to annul a vow”. (A Beis Din is a court of law, in this case three adult males). We set a date and place and I promised to be there with my fellow Kollel members.
It turned out that my Chavrusa had made a genuine Neder never to step foot into shul!
As a Halachic Jew he felt that he needed the dispensation of a Court of Jewish Law to allow him to come to shul on Yom Kippur.
We indulged him, and with a ‘Mutar lach, mutar lach, mutar lach” the vow was annulled.
A few nights later at “Kol Nidrei,” a large crowd gathered at Bnai Israel to recite the prayer nullifying any vows made in the past year. I took a peek out of my Talis and saw my chavrusa, a man whose religious landscape had changed with the rejection of a vow.
I still don’t know what kept my Chavrusa away from our shul. I do know that he got over it.
We all have our hang-ups and Mishegassen that are stunting our growth. Sometimes we need to take a step back and say ‘that’s not me – it’s just a vow that I have made’. We need to be “Matir Neder.”

(Originally written for the Norfolk Stories blog)