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Basic Christian
asking for forgiveness and a good year - *Religious Jews use dashes in
the word "G-d" and do not write it out completely out of respect for
Him and the wish not to write the name in vain
Yom Kippur is one of the holiest Jewish holidays, at the end of which we believe our fate for the next year is
•sealed• by G-d. We believe that on Rosh HaShanah, that fate is written by Him, and on Yom Kippur, he issues his
final Judgment. This is Judgment Day. On Yom Kippur, we fast and pray for about 25 hours to ask G-d for a good
year. Before the fast, we eat a big, sumptuous meal, which expands the stomach and makes the fast more difficult.
During the holiday, there are strict prohibitions: no food, drink, shower, TV/radio, phone, etc. the whole day, which
is mostly spent at synagogue. The idea is that you are removing yourself from worldly concerns and focusing on
spiritual ones, most importantly repentance for your sins. We also don't wear leather shoes, as back in the day, those
were a luxury of the wealthy, and the holiday is not about ostentatious displays, but about humble requests before
G-d. It starts just before sundown, tonight, and ends after dark tomorrow (Saturday) night, with one sound of the
shofar (ram's horn-see explanation of shofar here). To my Jewish friends and readers, have an easy fast and a great
year. Gmar Chatimah Tovah [May you be finally sealed for good.]
Yom Kippur 1945, in a camp for Holocaust survivors - The older
generation was almost not there - They were the first victims, since
they lacked the physical strength to withstand the horrors of the
camps - Few children survived - They, too, succumbed quickly - The
survivors prayed, remembered, wept and found a little comfort in those
tears
After morning prayers, I decided to visit other synagogues and spend some time with other groups. I left the
synagogue and walked across the half empty streets. There were many people who remained in the street and
refused to attend services. They were angry at G-d. Among them were formerly religious Jews who could not accept
the apparent indifference of G-d to the suffering; the torture, and the tragedy they had both witnessed and
experienced in their homes and in the camps. They could not reconcile their former beliefs and convictions of an
All-Merciful, Almighty Divine Being, with the catastrophe that had struck their communities. They would not pray.
When they heard the recitation of the Kaddish, the special prayer of mourners expressing praise of the Lord, they
reacted angrily that G-d did not deserve the Kaddish. They were broken in spirit. They could not reconcile recent
events to which they were witnesses with the contents of the Hebrew prayers. These Jews roamed the streets. They
wanted to express their anger, to show G-d that they defied Him, as he seemed to have abandoned them. Some ate
their food on the fast day publicly in the streets, as a gesture of defiance - of revolt. In one of the streets, I saw a
large group of people standing in a circle. I approached nearer to find out what was going on. In the middle of the
circle stood a seven-year-old girl, embarrassed, perplexed. She could not understand why all these people stood
around her. She, of course, could not know that they were surprised to find a Jewish child. So they stood, silently,
and just looked at this miracle of a Jewish child in their midst. They could not tear themselves away from this one
child who said nothing and to whom nothing was said. They just stood and gaped. A special prayer is normally
recited on Yom Kippur for the departed members of one's family. It's called Yizkor, the memorial prayer. As those
people looked at the little girl, they remembered their own children, or their younger brothers and sisters, the
nephews and nieces who at one time were their pride and joy, and who were no more. Each one of them looked and
remembered, recalled the beloved children who were cruelly exterminated. As they remembered, they recited
without any words the Yizkor for all those who once were part of their lives and now were gone forever. This was a
silent, most moving Yizkor, without words, without prayer books, recited in that street in Landsberg, by a group of
Jewish survivors, watching a bewildered little Jewish girl. It was the most moving, most eloquent, most heartfelt,
most silent Yizkor I have ever heard.
http://www.basicchristian.org/blog_History_Study_Complete.rss[1/16/2012 7:38:03 AM]