If you ask someone coming out of a church on a Sunday, “Do you believe in G-d?” the worshipper will be shocked. “What kind of question is that? Of course I do!” If you then ask him, “Do you consider yourself religious?” what will the answer be? “Certainly. That’s why I’m here!”
If you go to a mosque on Friday and ask the average person there, “Do you believe in G-d?” what will the answer be? “Definitely.” “Do you consider yourself religious?” “Well, obviously.”
This is normal. These conversations make sense.
Now go to a synagogue on Yom Kippur. Ask the Jew sitting in the synagogue on Yom Kippur, fasting, “Do you believe in G-d?” You cannot get a straight answer. “Umm… it depends what you mean by ’G-d.’” That’s if the person is the philosophical type. Otherwise, you’re likely to hear, “What am I, a rabbi? I don’t know.”
So then you ask the Jew, “Do you consider yourself religious?” They crack up laughing. “Are you kidding? Do you know what I eat for breakfast?” And then they’ll almost always add, “I had a grandfather, on my mother’s side, he was a religious man. But me…?”
So then you finally ask what seems like a logical question: “So, why are you here?”
For some reason, this average Jew, who claims he doesn’t believe in G-d and is not religious, will look at you like you’re crazy and say, “What do you mean? It’s Yom Kippur!”
To any straight-thinking, logical person, this is totally crazy. Jews are supposed to be a rational, intelligent people. How do we explain this complete lapse of reason?
The truth is that there is no logic behind a Jew’s sudden awakening and desire to come close to G-d on Yom Kippur. And, far from being a default, it is a glimpse at the genuine nature of a Jew, a glimpse in which you can see the essential beauty of a Jew. How so?
Judaism asserts that the essential part of a Jew is the neshama, or soul. The neshama, the epitome of spiritual perfection absolutely fused and united with G-d in a serene spiritual reality, is actually a part of G-d Himself. This lofty neshama descends into this world to be enclothed within a physical body. As a result, the neshama has to contend with all the garbage that material existence has to offer. The body needs to eat, the body needs to sleep, the body has irrational physical desires, it has to battle personal demons and is soaked in the mud of a lowly physical existence – even the intellect is overwhelmed by this materialistic plague. All the neshama wants to do is see G-d and live a purely spiritual existence. In fact, that is the reason that it descends into this world – so that in order to overcome the obstacles that it encounters in this physical world, it will be forced to shine with a greater spiritual intensity.
Meanwhile, a voice is calling out from above to the neshama, reminding it where it comes from, reminding it that despite its long journey downwards, it remains forever united with its Source. The problem is that being soaked in the mud of worldly affairs makes the neshama insensitive to sounds of purity and transcendence from above. Tragically, the neshama doesn’t always hear the call.
However, on Yom Kippur, the neshama hears. On Yom Kippur the neshama shines brightly, because on Yom Kippur the voice that is calling comes from a higher place of absolute purity and unity within G-d Himself. It comes from a place of such simple and revealed purity that there is no room for negative energy, even in the slightest way. And this reveals the true nature of the neshama below in which it has the power to outshine all the material trappings to the point where they are no longer obstacles. On Yom Kippur, the neshama is given the ability to pull itself out of the mud of this world, clean off the shmutz, and experience the beautiful, shining energy of its Source.
This is why all Jews, no matter where they are physically or spiritually, hear and react in a special way to the call of Yom Kippur – even if their usual thoughts or words or actions are not consistent with it. The connection is there, on a level that completely transcends intellect. If properly utilized, a Jew can achieve by leaps and bounds what normally takes small steps to accomplish. Throughout the year, we attune ourselves by painstakingly working on purifying our thoughts and actions in an orderly fashion. But on Yom Kippur, we are automatically tuned in, and if we absorb the energy of this holy day, we can affect leaps of instant purification and an abundance of positive vitality.
The motto of Yom Kippur, “seek out G-d when He is found,” contains a profound lesson in how to go about finding what we’re looking for. It is a lesson that can be applied to life in general, and is especially pertinent for Yom Kippur. Since a Jew is actually a part of G-d above, it follows that the G-dly spark that we are seeking is not something new that we are looking for, rather it is something that has been lost. And just like any lost artifact, you have to look for it in the place where it was lost. In the case of the spark of beauty, transcendence and spirituality that every person seeks, the place it is lost – and the place it is found – is in our thoughts, words and actions. Meaning, that we have to examine these three garments of our neshama to determine which thoughts, words and actions were in spirit of beauty and truth, and which ones were, unfortunately, the result of falsehood and the cause of negative energy.
The motto is not only good advice, but it is also a promise: “Seek out G-d when He is found” implies that He is found, as long as we truly do the seeking.
Reprinted with permission from Exodus Magazine