Atonement Monopoly


At first I thought it was a joke. A Jerusalem shopping mall recently issued a glossy magazine supplement featuring its latest glitzy fashions. In the centerfold, in honor of Yom Kippur, was a Hebrew-language article entitled, “How to make it through the fast day.” Among the suggestions were the usual pre-Yom Kippur precautions: lots of water, no caffeine, many carbohydrates, and so forth.

What struck me was a sub-section called “Additional Tips for an Easy Fast.”(Free Hebrew lesson: the word for “tips” is tippim.)

It is possible, it informed us, to have a pleasant Yom Kippur even without eating. Among the best ways to take your mind off food is to watch some video, play enjoyable games like Monopoly, do some light reading, and meet with friends and family. It goes without saying that no mention is made of such hoary ideas as repentance, prayer, charity, heavenly ledgers of life and death – or, God forbid, God.

MY INITIAL reaction was one of deep mortification. If they don’t want to observe Yom Kippur, that is their choice. But why refrain from food and yet desecrate the day at the same time? Does God really desire this kind of fasting? Isaiah’s angry words (1:12) came to mind: “Who asks this of you, to trample My courtyards?”

Would it not be better if they gorged themselves on food rather than go through the motions of fasting without thinking of the larger issues of Yom Kippur?

But then a more charitable reaction took over. After all, even though this behavior makes a mockery of the sanctity of the holiest day of the year, at the very least it demonstrates that the memory of Yom Kippur is still alive in the hearts of even the most completely secularized Israelis. These people are not, after all, deliberately desecrating Yom Kippur. They know no better. They have been raised below the religious poverty line. This is what they grew up with, it’s how things were done in their circles.

Perhaps, in paraphrase of that famous hassidic tale, one can say of them that even while they watch videos on Yom Kippur, they still fast on that holy day.

THE ISSUES raised by those Yom Kippur “guidelines” are complex. Several questions come to mind: It is painful to consider that among the people of Israel, some Jews on Yom Kippur afternoon are reciting the narrative of the Romans’ brutal murder of Rabbi Akiva and the greatest sages of our people – the Ten Martyrs – while other Jews are playing Monopoly; that some Jews are recounting the awesome priestly penitential service in the ancient Jerusalem Temple while others are watching awesome video films; that some Jews are beating their breasts in the ashamnu/ bagadnu confession, while others are engaged in light reading and chit-chat.

Without condemning people who know no better, what does this say about the legendary one-ness of the Jewish people? If these Yom Kippur suggestions represent some tenuous attachment to this holiest of days, what of the children and grandchildren of these people: Will they have even heard of a day called Yom Kippur?

On the other side of the coin, a more important question surfaces: What is the hold that Yom Kippur maintains over all Jews, no matter how far removed they are from tradition?

Some claim that for many Jews, Yom Kippur has become a kind of secular national holiday denuded of genuine religious meaning. Perhaps so, but whoever heard of a secular national holiday in which people deprive themselves of food and drink? And how is it that vehicular traffic throughout Israel is way down on Yom Kippur, and that, reportedly, 95 percent of Israelis do fast on this day?

Granted, there are no stats on what percentage of the 95% are playing Monopoly – I dare say very few – but it does appear that the sense of awe that pervades this day has penetrated even the most secular Israeli consciousness.

ONE MUST eschew glib answers, but an idea pushes its way to the fore.

Just six weeks after the miraculous Exodus from Egypt, the Jewish people were dancing around the idol of the Golden Calf – a sin so grievous that it stains all of Jewish history. When he sees this, Moses smashes the first set of the Ten Commandments that he is carrying, and God threatens to destroy Israel once and for all. Moses intercedes, pleads eloquently on behalf of the Israelites, and the people repent. God finally accedes to the importunings of Moses and forgives Israel.

On what day of the year does God grant forgiveness to Israel, and on what day does Moses descend the mountain with the second set of Commandments in his hands? That day is the 10th of Tishrei – which makes it the very first Yom Kippur day. (See Rashi’s comments on Exodus 33:11.) This is the day that becomes indelibly and permanently embedded into the consciousness of the people Israel as the day when the separation between God and His people comes to an end, and when God and Israel become united again as one.

YOM KIPPUR thus represents the essence of the God-Israel reconciliation. It is the flagship of Jewish holy days. More than any other holy day, it is the yearly reenactment of the drama of the Jewish soul as it returns and cleaves to its Creator, and becomes at one with Him (the Day of At-one-ment).

This reunion of God and the straying Jew is deeply ingrained within our national soul; it cannot be obliterated. No matter how far a Jew may drift from his roots – even if 3, 000 years after that first Yom Kippur he forgets all about the meaning of this day – certain elements of this connection to the transcendent retain their pristine force.

Despite everything, Yom Kippur maintains its mysterious grip even on the most distantly wandering Jew. In the Nazi death camps many non-believing Jews fasted on this day. For it is on Yom Kippur that the historic Jewish soul once again returns to its spiritual source, and neither the ravages of millennia of exile nor its resulting ignorance can rip this soul away from its eternal roots.

Monopoly on Yom Kippur? Videos? Grotesque and tragic as these may be, the astounding fact is that most Jews still fast. Somehow, despite everything, that thin, frail, connecting thread remains. Deep in our consciousness we have not utterly abandoned Him, nor has He abandoned us. He waits for us in the wings – for He remembers that first Yom Kippur of reconciliation, and He has faith in us and knows that some day, through the supernatural power of Yom Kippur, the Day of At-one-ment, He and His people will once again be united.

Also published in the Jerusalem Post.

You may also like...

Moshe Schorr
7 years 10 months ago

I “hear” what The Hedyot is saying. Perhaps he, and others like him, should acquaint themselves with the teachings of Rebbe Nachman of Breslov. One of his main lessons, was about the absolute _value_ of even a “point” of Jewishness. By focusing on this “point” one can indeed raise himself out of his present situation and become a tzaddik!

The Hedyot
7 years 11 months ago

I’m well aware that the goal in all cases is “to get Jews to be as observant as possible.” But it seems clear to me that they are being deceitful somewhere along the path to that goal.

Trying to encourage someone to strive for a higher level is perfectly fine. Disregarding the value of the level they’re currently operating at is a different story. If they truly mean it when they say, “the level you’re at is worthless”, then they’re being dishonest when after the person has abandoned it, they tell them that the level is worth coming back to. And if it really is worth coming back to, then they were dishonest when they made the person feel that is was worthless.

A better way to show the lie is to look at it from the other way first. A new BT who is convinced to come into the frum world on the pretense that “any mitzvos he does at any level is good enough” is going to feel betrayed when later on he discovers that actually it’s not good enough if you don’t measure up to a very specific level.

Ori Pomerantz
7 years 11 months ago

Hedyot, I don’t think it’s hypocrisy. The goal in all cases is the same, to get Jews to be as observant as possible. In the case of Jews who are not observant at all, this means saying: “do at least a little bit”. In the case of Jews who are fairly observant, this means saying: “you really should do a bit more”, which can easily morph into: “you have to do that bit more, or it doesn’t really count”.

Having said that, when you hear both from the same person it does appear manipulative. It may be manipulative in a good cause, but I think modern culture makes us extra sensitive to manipulation – we are surrounded by media that manipulates us from all sides. Trying to have different messages to different groups is probably less effective than it has been, and possibly counter-effective.

Simply saying: “better to do some than do nothing, better to do all than some” might work better.

The Hedyot
7 years 11 months ago

I think R’ Feldman’s attitude is a great example of the hypocritical, or rather, contradictory, attitude that so many frum people exhibit towards those not frum, or less frum than they feel they should be.

As a non-observant, formerly frum person, I have people telling me all the time that if I feel aspects of frumkeit are too difficult than I should do whatever I could, and that’s good enough (not that that’s quite why I’ve chosen the path I did, but evidently people prefer to think what they want). But those same people, when I was frum and following halacha, but not quite up to the standards they demanded of me, often told me things just like R’ Feldman did – “If you’re not going to do it like XYZ, then don’t even bother doing it at all!”

R’ Feldman, I must ask: If the person decides to take your advice and not fast, will you next year be cajoling him to “come back” and fast in whatever way he feels up to?

7 years 11 months ago

“not that different from us Orthodox who wouldn’t do those thintgs but are still after the same goal – to get through the day as quickly as possible, often by evading the theme of the day”

I gotta hand it to you. At least you’re consistent in your criticism of the orthodox. Now, if we could only get you to see things a bit more favorably…

As usual however, I’m afraid I’m going to have to disagree. Perhaps we hang out in different places but other than the fact that no one particularly loves to fast and stand for long periods of time [that’s why fasting is referred to as “Inui”] I have no evidence of people just sort of waiting out the day. The shul I’ve davened in for years absolutely rocks. There’s very little talking and people are inspired and daven out loud and fervently throughout the day. They’re very much into it and it shows.

By and large, this has been my experience in the places I’ve been in [though to be fair they’ve been either yeshivos or kollelim for the most part] and I prefer to thing that it’s the same way in other places as well. If your experiences differ, please note that they’re not representative of all Orthodox people.