A touch of holiness

Yom Kippur in Israel is like imagining what the world could be like if everything stopped. If all systems shut down. Like being on a Hollywood set, except it’s real. It’s like grappling the realness of the world we live in. Not sliding by day after day in hurried routine, like everywhere in the world, all the time. It’s a sudden stop. A sudden silence. Everyone together recognizing suddenly that this is real, that we are all alive, that this is amazing. And Yom Kippur is not a day of suffering, even though the feeling of hunger is possibly the worst feeling in the world. It’s a day to celebrate that we are alive, that we have God, that we have limitless potential to create and be anything that we want. Sometimes we need to get out of our heads to feel that different perspective – and focusing in on our bodies is one way to help us do that.

(For those who don't know, on Yom Kippur in Israel everything is shut down - it is the holiest day of the Jewish calendar. it is forbidden to drive and not a single car passes on the road except police or ambulances. Every single thing is closed except maybe one hospital per city. There is no television, no radio, nothing happening for the 25 hour holy period of Yom Kippur.)

I went to an interesting shiyur (lesson) today at “Bait Hayihudi”, an Aish house, in Tel Aviv. We were discussing the six mitvot surrounding God – to recognize his existence, not to put any powers before God, to unify God, to love God, fear God, and not indulge in our base desires. Someone raised an interesting point about the second mitzvah – how do we feel proud of our own accomplishments, if we’re never supposed to put any power before God, and all credit goes to God? And the response is interesting – any amazing accomplishments we humans accomplish are what we are supposed to be doing. We were put on this earth to fulfill our own potential, which entails doing amazing things. God has given us that power. But when we do accomplish something extraordinary, the mitzvah tells us to “take pleasure” in the accomplishment, rather than feel proud. All of our gratitude should be towards God, for giving us the opportunity to fulfill ourselves, to reach higher points, etc. I like that way of thinking. It’s dangerous to get caught up in too much self-pride. It inhibits our ability to grow. I’ve noticed this in the smallest ways with myself – for example, with my Hebrew studies. Sometimes I’m doing really well, such as in class when I understand everything and know all the answers and speak correctly. But then it’s easy to fall into the “oh, this Hebrew isn’t so hard, I’m so good at it, I don’t need to try so hard” etc etc, and if I let myself think that way, just because I had one good class as a payoff for my hard work, then for SURE in the next class I’m doing less well. Pride is a downfall. The same can happen in yoga class. If I have a really good class and I’m able to hold certain postures better or longer than others, I start to think I’m so good, and it’s that much harder for me when I come across a posture that’s difficult for me. The best way for me to continue to improve and grow is to “take pleasure” in my accomplishments, but not be proud. And that’s exactly what God has commanded of us, because God knows that that’s how we grow. And we owe it to God to grow. When after we die we go to heaven (or whatever happens after we die) and God asks us what did we accomplish in our lifetime, do we think he will be impressed that we started a business or built a highway or developed chain stores? In my opinion, no. Not that those are bad things, but God wants to hear us say at the end of the day that we fulfilled our potential. That we took risks and followed our hearts. That we focused our lives on love. That we were grateful and not proud. That we appreciated life. And that’s another reason Yom Kippur is so special – when we abstain (for a 25 hour period) from all physical pleasures – food, water, showers, sex, comfortable shoes, etc – it forces us to appreciate all of these things. God doesn’t want us to suffer. God simply wants us to appreciate every minute that we are alive.

And it’s a beautiful, beautiful thing to walk the streets of Israel on this holy day. People everywhere, and utter silence. Not a bleep to be heard. This is what peace feels like.