And this shall be to you a law for all time: In the seventh month, on the tenth day of the month, you shall afflict yourselves; and you shall do no manner of work, neither the citizen nor the alien who resides among you. For on this day atonement shall be made for you to cleanse you of all your sins; you shall be clean before God. It shall be a sabbath of complete rest for you, and you shall afflict yourselves; it is a law for all time.
(28) you shall do no work throughout that day. For it is a Day of Atonement, on which expiation is made on your behalf before Adonai your God. (29) Indeed, any person who does not afflict themselves throughout that day shall be cut off from their kin; (30) and whoever does any work throughout that day, I will cause that person to perish from among their people. (31) Do no work whatever; it is a law for all time, throughout the ages in all your settlements. (32) It shall be a sabbath of complete rest for you, and you shall afflict yourselves; on the ninth day of the month at evening, from evening to evening, you shall observe this your sabbath.
These five afflictions of Yom Kippur, to what do they correspond? Rav Chisda said: They are based on the five times that the afflictions of Yom Kippur are mentioned in the Torah. It is stated: (1) “And on the tenth of this seventh month you shall have a holy convocation, and you shall afflict your souls” (Numbers 29:7); (2) “But on the tenth of this seventh month is the day of atonement, it shall be a holy convocation for you and you shall afflict your souls” (Leviticus 23:27); (3) “It shall be for you a Shabbat of solemn rest, and you shall afflict your souls (Leviticus 23:32); (4) “It is a Shabbat of solemn rest [shabbaton] for you, and you shall afflict your souls” (Leviticus 16:31); (5) “And it shall be a statute for you forever, in the seventh month on the tenth of the month, you shall afflict your souls” (Leviticus 16:29).
The Sages taught: The verse states: “...you shall afflict your souls” (Leviticus 16:29). I might have thought that one should sit in the sun or in the cold to suffer therefore the continuation of the verse states: “And you shall not do any labour” (Leviticus 16:29). This teaches that just as prohibited labour requires one to sit and do nothing, as one is commanded to refrain from action, so too, affliction of one’s soul also requires you to sit and do nothing.
And say that it means that when one sits in the sun and it is too hot for them, we do not say: Get up and sit in the shade. Or, if one sits in the shade and it is too cold for them, we do not say: Get up and sit in the sun. It must be similar to the prohibition of labour. Just as with regard to prohibited labor you did not distinguish between situations so too, you do not distinguish with regard to affliction.
And if it is your wish to say something to challenge this reasoning, there is an additional proof: Surely, the verse states: “I will destroy that soul” (Leviticus 23:30). Therefore, affliction is something that destroys a soul. And what is that? That is refraining from eating and drinking.
The school of Rabbi Yishmael taught: The word affliction is stated here, and the word affliction is stated further on: “And God afflicted you and caused you to hunger” (Deuteronomy 8:3). Just as further on the meaning of affliction is hunger, so too, here, the meaning of the word affliction is hunger.
5. The Rabbi: The pious man is nothing but a prince who is obeyed by his senses, and by his mental as well as his physical faculties, which he governs corporeally, as it is written: 'He that ruleth his spirit [is better] than he that taketh a city' (Proverbs 16:32). He is fit to rule, because if he were the prince of a country he would be as just as he is to his body and soul... He further attends the Three Festivals and the great Fast Day, on which some of his sins are atoned for, and on which he endeavours to make up for what he may have missed on the days of those weekly and monthly circles. His soul frees itself from the whisperings of imagination, wrath, and lust, and neither in thought or deed gives them any attention. Although his soul is unable to atone for sinful thoughts--the result of songs, tales, etc., heard in youth, and which cling to memory--it cleanses itself from real sins, confesses repentance for the former, and undertakes to allow them no more to escape his tongue, much less to put them into practice, as it is written: 'I am purposed that my mouth shall not transgress' (Psalsm 17:3). The fast of this day is such as brings one near to the angels, because it is spent in humility and contrition, standing, kneeling, praising and singing. All his physical faculties are denied their natural requirements, being entirely abandoned to religious service, as if the animal element had disappeared. The fast of a pious man is such that eye, ear, and tongue share in it, that he regards nothing except that which brings him near to God. This also refers to his innermost faculties, such as mind and imagination. To this he adds pious works.
First, fasting can bring about a strong sense of cleansing, or even catharsis... On an emotional level, maybe it’s about cleansing the accumulated grime of ignored emotions, and getting some insight (often painful) into what lies beneath.
Second, fasting makes spiritual reflection and meditation easier. Denying the body food reduces the amount of energy available to the brain, and so it becomes increasingly difficult as the day wears on to think in the usual, linear ways. Often, the momentum of thought decreases and it becomes quite satisfying just to “be here now.”
This is similar to what meditation does: slowing down the train of thought so that it is possible to see the world more clearly. It’s no wonder then that fasting has been part of contemplative, prophetic, and even magical practices from the Bible to the present day. In a concentrated state, the mind can visit territories otherwise beyond our ken.
Third, on Yom Kippur in particular, these effects of fasting are enhanced by community, and by the knowledge that hundreds of thousands of people are doing this internal work at the same time as you are. This is true even though we don’t all agree about the day’s significance. After all, Jews have never agreed about anything; we have four new years and three names for the Passover holiday. Community is built by doing, not agreeing.
Finally, having a fixed date helps. If you only do a spiritual practice when you feel like doing it, is it really a spiritual discipline at all? Having the calendar date fixed enables the practice of fasting to act as a mirror on life as it is, not just life when you’re in the mood to do something spiritual. It comes whether you want it to or not. It takes religion beyond the ego.
Fast days can lead to places that are achingly beautiful: it’s possible to become, albeit temporarily, more loving, more accepting, and more grateful simply by changing the body’s biochemistry for a day. If nothing else, fasting can reveal how much the personality and identity that we’re so proud of is dependent on daily nourishment. Just one skipped meal, and look what happens to this supposedly self-sufficient ego!
As Isaiah famously said, fasting without heart is no guarantee of piety. But with intention and attention, it can lead to precisely the compassion the prophet demands.
Rabbi Jay Michaelson is the author of six books, including “The Gate of Tears: Sadness and the Spiritual Path.” He holds a Ph.D from Hebrew University and a J.D. from Yale Law School, and is the legal affairs columnist at the Daily Beast.
Now we understand why the rabbis said, Repent one day before your death. Which, of course, could be today. And we understand as well why we rehearse our death on Yom Kippur—why we say Vidui and wear a kittel and refrain from eating—why in the middle of this day, we send our proxy, now the cantor, into the dangerous emptiness at our center. We need a taste of this emptiness, to give us a sense of what will go with us, what will endure as we make this great crossing. What’s important? What is at the core of our life? What will live on after we are wind and space? What will be worthy of that endless, infinitely powerful silence? And what are we clinging to that isn’t important, that won’t endure, that isn’t worthy? What do we want to live on? Our money, our pride? Our anger, our selfishness? If not, we better let go of them now, before they become what we are, what we will always be in that great emptiness for which we are bound.
Lew, Alan. This Is Real and You Are Completely Unprepared: The Days of Awe as a Journey of Transformation (p. 222). Little, Brown and Company. Kindle Edition.