Sunday night at sundown will mark the beginning of the Jewish fast of Yom Kippur, also known as the Day of Atonement. As a child growing up as a Christian I was always fascinated by this holiday celebrated by my religious cousins. It seemed to me to be the solemn yang to the celebratory ying of Rosh Hashanah, the Judaic New Year. (Hurrah!
Many Jews must feel a similar happy relief at Yom Kippur, as synagogue attendance swells to two to three times it’s average numbers, and many secular Jews return for traditional prayers and rituals. Like most ancient rites, Yom Kippur is complex and includes fasting, ritualized bathing, chanting, confessions, blessings and more. Obviously, I’m not going to be able to get it all down pat. So here’s what this goy girl will do to mark Yom Kippur as a day of forgiveness and new beginnings, influenced heavily by my Soulsister Rachel Barenblat and her article 13 Ways of Looking at Yom Kippur.
1. Fasting: After an early supper with friends Sunday night I will complete a cleansing fast for 24 hours. I like how fasting is a physical sign of a spiritual process, literally clearing out the body as one focuses on cleansing the soul.
2. Wearing White. Donning white on Yom Kippur reminds us of both beginnings (marriage gowns) and ending (death shrouds). This is what we are, we humans, an endless cycle of dreamy promises and epic failures. But rather than lamenting this as a short falling, this year I will celebrate the reality that we are indeed like this --- this messed up, this clumsy, this awful -- and inversely that we are this wonderfully resilient, this insatiable, this determined to be our best self. Rachel says it better:
“Yom Kippur is a day for holding opposites in tension. Take the custom of wearing white (some men wear a white kittel; Hasidim and Renewalniks dress in all-white, as we do to welcome the Shabbat bride.) White is at once the color of weddings (when we make promises to one another) and the color of our burial shrouds (when all our promises become void). Our promises are unreal and unsustainable because we are dust -- and yet we make those promises and they matter deeply, because we are little less than angels.
To put it bluntly, we are angels with anuses. This is our central tension: that on the one hand we are holy beings, made in God's image and aspiring to holiness, and on the other hand we are corporeal beings who have to eat and excrete, who suffer and die. It's our job to balance those two realities -- though on Yom Kippur we aspire to live out our angelic nature for one long day of praise.”
3.Bathing: The ritualized Mikvah bath is beyond my reach, but I will submerge myself in a body of water today. If possible I will dip into the Oresound, but if the rain pours down I’ll probably bail out and allow the beautiful, silent grey-tile pool of my health club suffice. I’ll dip under the water four times, trying to echo the minhag ha-makon, a symbolic purification of body, heart, mind and spirit. Again, I love what Rachel has to say:
“Water, Rabbi Jill Hammer reminded us, is a solvent; it dissolves the spiritual schmutz we need to release. Also, water is where we come from -- both on a personal level, in the womb, and in a primordial sense, thinking back to the origins of life on earth.
Jumping into the water felt fantastic. It was soft and gentle, almost silky against my skin. I swam a little ways out, listening to the whoops and hollers and splashes. … Throughout, I kept thinking about how they say you can't jump in the same river twice. And it's true: in subtle ways I am not the same person who immersed in this lake last month before Shabbat or last October before Yom Kippur. But I carry those immersions with me -- the sweet sparkling feeling they engender -- and now I will carry this one, likely my last time touching living water until spring.”
4. Putting on Something New: According to Rachel, there are there new beginnings offered by her Rabbi each year:
“In Renewal circles, a Torah service generally involves three aliyot (sections of Torah), and each one is matched with a kavanah, an intention. Those who identify with that intention, or wish to receive its particular blessing, come up as a group to bless the Torah and to be blessed in return.”
In the morning Torah services, the first aliyah was for knowing we can bring our whole selves to our holy work; the second, for reclaiming the gifts that were ours but we cast them away; the third, for being an ish iti, a timely person connected with rhythms and cycles.”
I am accepting the second aliyah this year": “I reclaim the gifts that were mine which I cast away. (Or let others take from me.)” When I arise out of the water on Yom Kippur, this is what I will wear. This is what I will walk with this year --- even though I may face Gremlins, even though I may struggle with the Imposter Syndrome, even though I may at times think I am not enough. The aliyah says I can live otherwise, and for this I will wear white, to this I will make vows. To this I say “I give thee my troth.”
How will you celebrate Yom Kippur this year? What will you leave behind? What will you see redeemed? Please share with us in the comments below.
Other Resources for Yom Kippur:
If you are Jewish but live far from a synagogue: A Grab-Bag of Resources for Yom Kippur
If you want to learn an interfaith practice: Christians In Solidarity with Jews on Yom Kippur, A Liturgy
If you are religious, but in a sassy kind of way: Pardon All our Fucking Inequities at Killing the Buddha
If you want the basics How to Celebrate Yom Kippur from EHow.
Rachelle Mee-Chapman is a soulcare specialist, writer, and mother of several. Rooted in Seattle she’s now living the expat life in Copenhagen, Denmark. You can find her at Magpie Girl, follow her on Twitter, or friend her on Facebook. Thank you for being here!
Comments
THANK YOU!
This is excellent! Now, if you can help us goy girls deal with the guilt of our jew boy friends and lovers, we can get this all figured out! OY! ;)
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Alyssa Royse
Just Cause It: A Web Site To Save The World
READ the magazine http://www.zinio.com/justcause
I'm so glad
I'm so glad that my "Thirteen ways of looking at Yom Kippur" resonated for you, and I'm honored that you're choosing to take on so many of these practices!
As it happens, this year I probably won't be immersing in the lake: I have a terrible cold and I'm pregnant and I need to keep the cold from descending into my lungs, so the voice of wisdom suggests that I should stay dry. I may not even manage to wear all-white -- my maternity wardrobe is limited and the temperature has dropped this weekend! But I'll immerse in the spiritual mikvah of sound as my community sings and the waves of their voices wash over me -- and I'll wrap in my all-white holiday tallit -- and those will have to do.
Wishing you and yours a holiday filled with release.
http://velveteenrabbi.blogs.com/blog/
All the different strokes appreciated
I meant to say, Good luck with your pregnancy! I always nursed my kids through the high holy days so I didn't have to fast. :) (I of course apologized on Yom Kippur for being that calculating)
I know I definitely try to take whatever I can from observances that intrigue me that aren't part of Judaism (which I follow in my own Reform-Conservative hybrid way even though I belong to and am involved in a conservative branch shul), so I appreciate this post, Rachel. It's obvious you've thought a lot about it.
The only thing I want to comment on are these sentiments:
These holidays are also often referred to as the Days of Awe and I have to say, for myself only of course, that I grew up with and continue to possess a pretty good amount of dread as these days arrive. They are really heavy, to me, for a number of reasons. Yes, the new year gatherings and even the break fast are very very joyful gatherings. But the content of the special prayers and the expectations of how we are to examine ourselves have always been, for me, an equal part of the focus, if not greater.
I do share the sense of relief that I've had time, during the fast and being in synagogue all day on Yom Kippur, to be with my thoughts and my cobbled-together thoughts on faith. My synagogue allows a time in the late afternoon service when you can go up to the bimah and be alone in front of all the torahs at the ark and just have a moment between yourself and...whomever (God for most of us but not everyone). It is incredibly powerful.
I also look around a lot at the congregants, many of whom are well into their twilight and a good portion of whom are Holocaust survivors or children of Holocaust survivors.
I know this may sound like doom and gloom, but I actually find it necessary to observe this holiday, because it reminds me of all these things that are so easy to forget about in the hubbub of my otherwise very secular life.
Anyway - I just wanted to share this. I have had the good fortune to be able to observe this holiday in a wide variety of settings - in a Jesuit church, in an ultraOrthodox community in Israel, in a Reform synagogue where I grew up and now in the one where my family goes. In between, I've had years when I would just study on my own or with my husband because we didn't belong anywhere.
The starting over is indeed a huge gift. Thanks again for writing about it from another perspective I'd not thought about.
Shana tova and have an easy fast.
Jill Writes Like She Talks
Jewess in Practice
I married into the faith, but have so much to learn.
More than anything, though, you related beautifully the meaning of atonement so that a woman of any religion could appreciate that all-too-real push and pull between her earthly self and her higher self.
Thanks!
http://www.thecluelesscrafter.com/