When Israeli adults think about Yom Kippur, they think about the war that broke out on this day many years ago. When young children in Israel think about Yom Kippur, they think about the tradition of riding their bicycles through the empty streets. While some prepare themselves for this holy day and the fast, others instead only remember their grandfather, who would fast on this day, once a year. When I think of Yom Kippur, I am reminded of a beautiful question I heard a few years ago and the brilliant answer to it that can teach all of us about the essence of this holy day, beginning on Friday at sundown, and our connection to the Creator of the world. At the time when the holy temple, the Creator's tabernacle, still existed, there was a single moment, rare and special, when the Holy essence would concentrate itself on earth. It was the moment when the High Priest entered the Holy of Holies on Yom Kippur. The High Priest is the holiest of men and Yom Kippur is, of course, the holiest of days. It was a pinnacle day in the Holy of Holies, this holiest place on earth. The moment the High Priest is in the Holy of Holies on Yom Kippur is a rare combination of different types of holiness. Get the Israel Hayom newsletter sent to your mailbox! In this once-a-year moment, the High Priest would enter, say a short prayer and then exit. One story goes that in his prayers, he would request that the Creator of the world not listen to the prayers of coachmen, who request that rain not fall. He asked that there be rainfall, despite their prayers, because the nation was in need of it. Rabbi Elchanan Wasserman was one of the great rabbinic thinkers in Lithuania in the 20th century. He was murdered, along with his entire community, during the Holocaust. One time he dared to ask an obvious question: Is this the most important prayer the High Priest could think of to pray at this holiest of moments? Was it so important for him to ask the Creator of the world not to listen to this or that coachman? Why didn't the High Priest pray for health, or the nation's livelihood, or something else more significant- The answer is simple. That same coachman that prayed that there not be rain was simply praying for the thing most important to his life: that his personal livelihood not be injured by rain that would cause travelers to stay at home. When a man prays for something deep in his heart, he doesn't need to be a genius or a lawmaker or even someone who wears a kippa [yarmulke]. On Yom Kippur, in the Holy of Holies, only the high priest could possibly challenge a prayer that comes from the heart of a Jew, even if he or she is the simplest Jew with the simplest request, I heard this allegory years ago and it sticks in my memory in connection with Yom Kippur. This day grants every Jew, whoever and wherever he is, the right to make requests of God and to pray as if he were the most important rabbi of all. Yom Kippur grants equal opportunity to everyone. A year ago, I was part of an Israeli delegation in Washington and New York. As a definitively Jewish and ultra-Orthodox man in appearance, a non-Jewish woman approached me, the owner of a store in a mall, and asked me if I was Jewish. I, of course, answered in the affirmative. Thus she started to tell me proudly that her grandmother was Jewish and she remembers how she would always fast once a year. When I asked her what side that grandmother was on, to my astonishment she answered, "my mother's mother." Amazed, I revealed a secret to her: "According to halachah [Jewish law], you are Jewish no less than I." Not everyone is connected to our tradition in the same way. As a result of the incredible rate of assimilation in the U.S. and Europe, one finds Jews in every corner of the world who have only faint connections to their tradition, like that store owner in Washington. From time to time, this Jewish memory which is buried deep in their hearts or minds surfaces. Sadly, it is very likely that the same vague Jewish connection or memory will not be passed on to their children. But in any case, they exist and they are Jewish. As Rabbi Elchanan Wasserman said, one does not have to be a great rabbi or a Jewish lawmaker: Every Jew has the power to change the world. Each blessing, prayer or simple request that comes from the heart of a Jew, even the simplest Jew in the world, can move the heavens and earth. And Yom Kippur is the opportunity to ponder and understand this fact. The writer is the spokesman for Knesset Finance Committee.
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