Patience. Acceptance. Tolerance. To many, this is mainly what Yom Kippur is about. But as long as these are merely statements and promises between man and God, and not moral codes to live by throughout the year – Yom Kippur does not serve its purpose.
Yom Kippur, the day of atonement, is when we clear ourselves of our sins, and ask the people around us, and God, for forgiveness for our sins and wrongdoing. But, as far as I'm concerned, being remorseful for one day, and going back to intolerance, impatience and rejection the next – does not serve the true meaning of the day. Don't know about you, but I'll take a person who does not fast on Yom Kippur but have respect for other people during the year, than the person who does the opposite.
In recent months, we got “>intolerance towards the Ethiopian community, and the list goes on.
Just today, Israeli newspaper Yediot Aharonot posted a survey about tolerance towards minorities in Israel, with worrying results. For instance, 41.9% said they won't be willing to have a child with homosexual parents study in the same class with their child. 34% are not willing to have their children marry an Israeli with an Ethiopian descent. Only 62% of Israeli Jews are willing to have Arab kids in their child's class, and only 71.4% of Arabs are willing to have Jewish kids in their child's class. What does this Day of Atonement worth, if we can't live and let live?
This year, Yom Kippur and the Muslim holiday of Eid al-Adha will be celebrated simultaneously. One day is about silence and fast, and the other is of celebrations and lots of food. This day will be a test for us all, of our ability to coexist, and have respect for the other, without insisting on only “them” showing respect to “us” (this applies to both societies.) As the Global Village expends, and religious, geographical and cultural borders become more blurry, we must start embracing this “open” way of life.
Yom Kippur is, to me, the realization that God respects all beliefs, even of those who don't believe in God. This is something we often forget – we are all human beings, and all have an equal right to exist, as long as we don't hurt others.
When the gates to heaven open as the sun goes down on Yom Kippur, God doesn't measure our Mitzvahs, so I believe. He measures our respect to others, and our behavior as people. God measures our humanity and compassion for each other, the ability to look behind skin color, sexual preferences, or ways of belief. On this day, we are reminded that all people are equal, and that none of us is better than the others, or more entitled – in front of God or in front of the people of the world. I can only hope that this year, we'll remember this even when the sun will set on Yom Kippur.
I would like to use this stage to wish you all גמר חתימה טובה וצום קל, and to our Muslim friends, happy Eid al-Adha.
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