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Hybrid Thoughts

9/16/2007

Yom Kippur in Israel


Of all the days in the year that I think of Israel, Yom Kippur is when I miss it the most.

Many of you are familiar with these two words in the context of the Yom Kippur war. A couple of years ago I wrote about the song that makes me cry each time. The song that promised me that the Yom Kippur war was the last war for Israel, yet it's been through five more wars after it.

But Yom Kippur is not a war. It's a day. It's the holiest day for all Jews. The equivalent in importance of Christmas for the Pope. Yom Kippur is a day of atonement for all Jews. It's the one day a year when all Jews, whether secular or religious, will visit the synagogue. It's the one day a year when non-believers such as myself, want to believe...want to believe in some supreme being who will help us and give us a better year. It's the one day a year when Israel shuts down and becomes contemplative. Some of you may find it odd for me to refer to Israel as if it were one person, but on Yom Kippur that is exactly what Israel becomes. One collective being.

The ten days between Rosh Hashanna (New Year) and Yom Kippur are called the awful days (Yamim Nora'im). The days of atonement. The time when we must say we are sorry to our friends and family. On Yom Kippur we fast for 25 hours, from sundown to sundown. When I say fast I mean no food, no drink, no brushing teeth with water, no bathing in water, no work, no driving, no radio, no TV, no computers, no electricity, no talk about money, no carrying anything heavy. Only prayer is allowed. Only talking among people. Everyone dresses in white. And no leather shoes or anything made of leather is allowed to be worn that day.

If you've never been to Israel on Yom Kippur, then you would never understand what this truly means when an entire country goes completely SILENT for 25 hours. An entire country shuts down. NOTHING is open. Not even the ATM machines. It is so silent, that when you stand on top of Mt. Carmel you can hear a dog barking at the bottom of the mountain, and you can hear people talking all the way by the coastline. It's an absolutely amazing thing in a city of 260,000 people. You walk down the street and you can hear the sounds of people talking inside their apartments. There are no other noises. Not even the wind or rain, because Yom Kippur occurs before Fall begins.

During Yom Kippur, the country is completely disconnected from media for 25 hours. No Israeli station broadcasts.

And THAT is why the Arab countries started the war on Yom Kippur. Israelis had no means to communicate the start of the war on the radio or television. Everyone was fasting. Everyone was in the synagogue. Our army was taken by surprise. Most soldiers were back home with their families in the synagogue.

I've just spent an hour looking for videos I took last year when I was in Israel on Yom Kippur that show the silent streets of Haifa, and I cannot for the life of me find them. This really frustrates me because I'm extremely organized on my PC and have never had problems finding anything. It seems like I deleted them to save space. I sure hope I'll find them one day. But for now I'll have to live with the videos I took secretly at a synagogue last year. This is an Orthodox synagogue (as 99% of all synagogues in Israel are Orthodox), where women are separated from the men. This allowed me to take this video from the upstairs section looking at the men below.

Keep in mind, this video was taken on the last five minutes of Yom Kippur, after these men have not had a bite to eat or a sip to drink in over 25 hours, and after they've spent the entire day praying.

Throughout the day these men are praying fairly quiet. But on the last five minutes they get this extra superhuman energy to sing the last song out loud. It's called Avinu Malkenu - our father, our king. You will hear them sing: Avinu Malkenu, khaneinu v’aneinu, ki ein banu ma’asim [Our Father, our King, Grant us grace and answer us, For we lack in deeds];....and then the singing gets REALLY loud when they beg "osei imanu tzedaka v’khesed v’hoshi’einu.." [Give us justice and kindness, and save us.] This is my favourite part of everything to do with being Jewish. It's the only minute in a year that I doubt my own lack of belief and want so desperately to believe there is someone out there listening to our prayers and our begging for a better year.

This is the final request of the Jewish people as the day of Atonement is closed. The final request from G-d to sign us in the book of life.

And if you're at awe from hearing these men sing so loud after such a long and emotionally and physically straining day, listen to the final shofar** (see image above) sound (at 5:24 minutes into the video) as the cantor picks it up to conclude the day of atonement. Believe me, it is NOT easy to blow the shofar on any given day, let alone after such a day of fasting.

The last song they sing is Le'Shana Ha'Ba'aa Bi'Yerushalayim "Next Year in Jerusalem" - the way all Jews sign all their holy holidays in a wish to make pilgrimage to Jerusalem next holiday.




**The Shofar, a well know symbol of Rosh Hashanah, is one of the earliest instruments used in Jewish music. Usually made from a rams horn, a shofar can also be made from the horns of other animals, including those of a goat or sheep. It is the one musical instrument that has not changed in over 5,000 years.

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7 Comments:

  • I would say:
    "Toda La El hay Yom, Yom Kippur"

    Anyhows, happy belated New Year.

    By Anonymous Anonymous, at 12:41 AM, September 17, 2007  

  • That was a good informative read Mybrid. I appreciate how honest you are about your lack of faith for the rest of the year EXCEPT this one day. But I can't help but feel that you will eventually go back to the daily routine of struggling to find out who you are and how you fit in into the jigsaw of life set out by "G-d" as you like to say.

    It's not as if I don't go through similar emotions but at the end of the day when all else fades away I know deep down that I am first and foremost a Muslim. And yes I can appreciate how pirivileged a position I'm in to be able to define myself in those terms but it doesn't come without the constant everyday battles of clinging onto this identity in the face of all the vices of this world!

    By Blogger The Hard-working Slacker, at 7:49 AM, September 17, 2007  

  • Great post! I found myself tapping my foot and bouncing along at the end. I hope you receive justice, kindness, and your place in the book of life.

    By Blogger Sara Sue, at 12:36 PM, September 17, 2007  

  • Many years ago a young Jewish friend took me to the Yom Kippur service at Georgetown U because I was very curious. I was deeply moved by it. Thank you for sharing this with us.

    By Blogger here today, gone tomorrow, at 8:24 PM, September 17, 2007  

  • I knew nothing about Yom Kippur until now. Thanks a ton!

    By Blogger Parad0x, at 9:37 PM, September 17, 2007  

  • You have a way with words. I always like hearing/reading about how different people in other places do things.

    By Blogger Chickie, at 3:25 PM, September 18, 2007  

  • Just a little note to let you know we miss you and I'm thinking about you.

    By Blogger Sara Sue, at 11:21 AM, September 27, 2007  

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