But on the tenth of this seventh month, it is a day of atonement, it shall be a holy occasion for you; you shall afflict yourselves, and you shall offer up a fire offering to the Lord. (Vayikra 23:27)

As a child, I always believed the purpose for fasting on Yom Kippur was to feel bad. Either as penance for our sins, or to teach us sympathy for the suffering of others. When I fell into the observant world I was told the idea was to nullify our bodily desires and strive to be like the angels who do not eat or drink. Really? Do angels have hunger pangs and dry mouth? This whole nullifying the body thing seemed absurd. 

The Second Half of Kingship

From Rosh Hashana to Yom Kippur, we refer to Hashem as King. Obviously, Judaism views Hashem as King all year-round. But during this time, we’re able to feel it. But there are actually two particular aspects we specifically acknowledge.

1) As judge on Rosh Hashana. 

2) As pardoner of sins on Yom Kippur.

Regarding this second role, the Maharal says that in order for Hashem to be a pardoner on Yom Kippur, Hashem makes it so the Yetzer Hara has no influence over us. The Yetzer Hara is often translated as the evil inclination and is usually characterized as that little devil on your shoulder tempting you. 

But a deeper understanding is that the Yetzer Hara is all the forces that control you, but that are not you. Let me say that again. All of these forces influence you – external and internal – such as social pressures, deep-seated family dynamics, your ego, your anger, your insecurities, etc. They have tremendous influence and may feel like you, but are not, in fact, the real you. 

On Yom Kippur, Hashem removes their power. But in order for that to take effect, you have to detach from the needs of the body. And not just food. Bathing, dressing nicely, shaving. Basically you’re not trying to impress anyone on Yom Kippur. Instead we have to elevate to a place where sin does not exist.

But despite the power of the Yetzer Hara, the ramifications of those influenced choices still keep us from who we truly are. Though we can now look at our mistakes clearly, from an objective perspective, we still have to deal with them, own up to them, and make the decision to leave them behind. That’s what the teshuvah of Yom Kippur is all about. 

The Real You

With no outside forces and with the responsibility accepted, you’re in full control. You are free to actually decide what you want. Which king do you want to serve in life? The illusions of the Yetzer Hara that don’t really take you to what you want? Or Hakadosh Baruch Hu, who can actually give you what you want? Just to be clear, this is not a rhetorical question. This is a real decision you have to make. Do we really want to leave behind our vices and indulgences? Do I really want to give up the dopamine hits of my smartphone? In theory, yes. But it only works if I am clear on what I want instead. What have I lost and what is it keeping me from? That’s what I mean when I say we become the person we “truly are.” It’s what we know we’re capable of, our hopes, our dreams, our goals, when all the excuses have become irrelevant. 

Fasting is about stripping away everything that is apart from you in order to get to your core. Yes, you might get a headache, and if you get drowsy, it’s okay to take a break or even a nap. But if you are able to muscle through it, it can give tremendous clarity to make that breakthrough. Living as your truest self is what it really means to be written in the Book of Life.

This post came from an earlier article inspired by Rabbi Shaya Karlinsky. Below is an additional insight new for this posting. 

Shabbat of Shabbots

It is a complete day of rest for you, and you shall afflict yourselves. On the ninth of the month in the evening, from evening to evening, you shall observe your rest day. (Vayikra 23:32)

As I mentioned above, the explanation that we’re fasting because we’re emulating the angels never impacted me. In Jewish thought, an angel isn’t a dead person with wings and a halo. They are spiritual forces of creation more powerful than Thanos with all Infinity Stones. But despite that power, we still don’t really want to be like them. They lack free will and are more like programs or machines than people (so to speak.) Why would we want to emulate them? 

Another opinion says that angels lack free will, not because they aren’t programmed with it, but because they are so aware of Hashem’s presence, it makes no sense for them to go against His Will. You have the free will to touch a burning hot stove, but you’re not going to do it because you know it will hurt terribly. So as one becomes more aware of Hashem, they achieve yiras shamayim (poorly translated as fear of God). Not because they are scared of Hashem punishing them, but because they are aware how sin obstructs Hashem’s presence in the world. Spirituality increases our awareness of Hashem, physicality by default decreases our awareness of Hashem. 

Now we are both physical creatures and spiritual creatures, and we can’t survive with only one of those natures. We have to eat, we have to work, we do need physical pleasure. So Judaism aims to elevate kosher physical pleasures into holy spiritual pleasures. Drinking to escape your problems? Not the best habit. Having a shot with friends over Shabbos to elevate connection or to celebrate a simcha? Holy. 

But one of the aspects that contributes to the holiness of that whiskey is abstaining from other physical pleasures to make space for spirituality. So on Shabbat we abstain from 39 categories of work called melacha. Melacha is often translated as “creative work” because it references the acts Hashem did during the six days of creation. Abstaining from these melacha on Shabbos allows us to find a connection not present any other day of the week. Holidays such as Passover and Rosh Hashana also have restrictions from melacha, but they’re not quite as severe. You can cook, transfer fire, and, if done in a certain way, you can even take a shower. They are special days, but their holiness isn’t on the level of Shabbat. Shabbat is the holiest day of the year… except Yom Kippur. 

If you look at the verse quoted above, “a complete day of rest for you” in the Hebrew is actually a Shabbat of Shabbats. In Hebrew, one of the ways to show emphasis is to double up on a word. So as much as we withdraw from the physical world on Shabbat, we withdraw even more on Yom Kippur. Rabbi Moshe Chaim Luzzatto addresses this specifically in his work Derech Hashem.

“The Supreme Wisdom decreed to add holiness upon holiness for Israel, and gave them holy days besides Shabbat, on which Israel would receive various levels of holiness… And according to the degree of influence of these days, so too are we required to detach ourselves from worldly occupation, and accordingly are their prohibitions of labor. Thus Yom Kippur is above all of them and the prohibitions are most severe, followed by the festivals, followed by Chol HaMoed…” (Part IV, Chapter 7, paragraph 5)

It is this heightened level of withdrawal from the physical world that can impact our spirituality so profoundly. Yes, we may experience dry mouth, hunger pains, and discomfort. And that’s probably why the Torah refers to it as an affliction. But if we can let go of our physical selves, we can tap into a level unmatched by fasting on any other day. In the way that shutting off my phone on Shabbos removes the distractions so I can be present with my family, detaching from physical needs can make you more present with Hashem Himself. 

I’m not saying concentrating on Yom Kippur is easy. In fact, for the very first parts of the service, I’m not only struggling to focus without coffee, most years I am at my most skeptical about my choice to have become more religious. You might even say I am at my most apathetic if not heretical (God forbid). But at a certain point, something clicks, I let go, and I let the day take me where it is going to take me. Sometimes that’s very high, sometimes it is intensely emotional, sometimes it is just getting through the service. But by the final service, Ne’ilah, the fifth Amidah that is only recited on Yom Kippur, I’m never thinking about what I’m going to break the fast over. I’m always in it, trying desperately not to let the spiritual moment slip through my fingers. That concern for that spiritual state, that connection, maybe is what emulating the angels is all about.