By Rebbetzin Lauren Levin
Yom Kippur is arguably the greatest gift God has given the Jewish people. But as with any gift, the question is how we use it.
“For on this day atonement shall be made for you to purify you of all your sins; you shall be pure before God. It is a Sabbath of rest for you, and you shall afflict yourselves. It is an eternal statute.”
Rabbi Akiva explained the intrinsic power of the day in the following terms:
“Rabbi Akiva said: How fortunate are you, Israel; before Whom are you purified, and Who purifies you? It is your Father in Heaven, as it is stated: “And I will sprinkle purifying water upon you, and you shall be purified” (Ezekiel 36:25). And it says: “The ritual bath of Israel is God” (Jeremiah 17:13). Just as a ritual bath purifies the impure, so too, the Holy One, Blessed be He, purifies Israel.”
Just as all one need do is step into the mikva to achieve a spiritual transformation and rebirth, so too all one is required to do is ‘step into’ the day of Yom Kippur, and a similar transformation takes place.
This is teshuva, returning to one’s true self. The year takes its toll, and we arrive at Yom Kippur with a heavy load on our backs with our wares from the year. Laden down, our vision is clouded. That load is removed on Yom Kippur, enabling us to see ourselves in our essence with total clarity, recalculate our direction and start afresh. It is an incredibly individual and introspective process which is unique for each one of us.
Yet the sages challenged this notion of Yom Kippur through their masterfully poignant narration of the tragic Yom Kippur of Rav Rechumei and his wife. Rav Rechumei was a student in one of the finest yeshivot in Babylon. Diligence personified he returned home only once annually – on Yom Kippur. Until one year he was so engrossed in his learning that he did not even notice the sun getting lower in the sky. His wife sat waiting for his return, until with the commencement of Yom Kippur she eventually resigned herself to his absence. The resilience of the year subsides and she sheds a tear, all alone and desperately disappointed. Ironically at the same time Rav Rechumei, surrounded by the energy of the yeshiva students, was sitting on the roof, perhaps symbolic of his climbing the heights of spirituality on the holiest day of the year. As if the weight of her tear fell on his yeshiva roof, the roof suddenly caved in, and Rav Rechumei fell to his death.
The flaw of the story lies in the missed opportunity of the couple restarting TOGETHER on Yom Kippur. They are so misaligned and he seems so oblivious to her pain. The conclusion of the tale in its tragedy conveys that if one only sees themselves on Yom Kippur, it is not a Yom Kippur worth having. The refresh button of Yom Kippur has several circles in its remit. At its centre lies the individual, but surrounding that is family life, then communal life, nationhood, and ultimately humanity.
Just as the fog surrounding our individual identity dissipates on Yom Kippur, the same transpires for each one of these circles. Our responsibility for the day is to not only look our true selves in the mirror, but also to look at where we stand as a community. What has changed since last year? What are the needs and the pain of those around us?
When Israeli society introspects, there are many changed needs this Yom Kippur. How will all the amputees and wounded soldiers and civilians (whether physically or mentally) be embraced and their integration prioritised in society?
Globally, poverty, anxiety and loneliness are prevalent. How can we help tackle these in our social action initiatives?
Yom Kippur is not about answering any of these questions. It is about being able to see the issues and develop the questions that will shape our action this coming year. This is the gift of Yom Kippur – it offers us a cleansing clarity to see and to hear ourselves and those around us.