S.A.L.T. – YOM KIPPUR 5771

By Rabbi David Silverberg

Motzaei

            A famous passage in Masekhet Rosh Hashana (17b) establishes the background for the recitation of the “thirteen attributes of mercy” as we appeal to God for forgiveness:

Had the verse not been written, one would not be permitted to say it – it teaches that the Almighty wrapped Himself like a sheliach tzibur and showed Moshe the procedure for prayer.  He said to him, “Whenever Israel sins, they shall conduct this service before Me, and I will forgive them.”

When God proclaimed the thirteen attributes to Moshe (Shemot 34:6-7), He informed him that they should be recited by Benei Yisrael when they come together to pray and beseech God for forgiveness.

How are we to understand the image of God wrapping Himself like a chazan, and why did God instruct us to “conduct this service” to achieve forgiveness for our wrongdoing?

            Rav Yehuda Amital zt”l would often explain that the image of a “sheli’ach tzibur” – which literally means, “messenger of the congregation” – is intended to express a certain perspective on Selichot, our prayers for forgiveness.  God told Moshe that when Benei Yisrael approach Him to pray for forgiveness, they must each come before Him as a “sheli’ach tzibur,” a representative of the nation.  When we pray, we must not pray only for our personal needs; we should not be focusing our attention solely on our concerns and those of our families.  These prayers certainly have their place, but primarily, we stand before God as representatives of Am Yisrael.  Particularly during the Yamim Nora’im, as Am Yisrael is judged, we pray on behalf of our nation as a whole, invoking the collective merit of all Jews.  Indeed, as Rav Amital zt”l very often noted, the Yamim Nora’im liturgy consists almost entirely of requests or Am Yisrael, and features very few specific, personal requests.  Rav Amital added that the few personal requests that do appear in the siddur – such as “be’sefer chayim” and the requests in Avinu Malkeinu – were added later, and were not included in the original liturgy composed by the Anshei Kenesset Ha-gedola.  The primary focus of the Yamim Nora’im service is Am Yisrael’s collective appeal for divine compassion, rather than personal prayers for happiness and success, and we must therefore each see ourselves as a “sheli’ach tzibur.”

            Why does the Gemara emphasize that God “wrapped Himself”?

            Rav Amital zt”l (http://www.etzion.org.il/dk/5764/933mamar1.htm) explained by noting the context in which God presented to Moshe the thirteen attributes.  Moshe had asked God to show him His “glory” (Shemot 33:18), and God responded that He would show the prophet only His “back,” as His “face” could not be seen by any human being (33:18-23).  The Torah then relates that God “passed in front” of Moshe and declared the thirteen attributes.  What this means, as the Rambam famously discusses, is that God’s essence cannot be known, but His attributes can.  In response to Moshe’s request to fully understand the divine essence, God told Moshe that He will teach him the divine attributes through which He is manifest in the world, but His essence can never be comprehended by a human mind.

            This, Rav Amital suggested, is what the Gemara means when it described God as “wrapping” Himself.  God conceals Himself in the world, He does not allow Himself to be fully seen or exposed.  He allows us only small glimpses of Him through His attributes, through the kindness that He dispenses and the compassion with which He cares for His creatures.

“Whenever Israel sins, they shall conduct this service before Me, and I will forgive them.”  In order to earn God’s forgiveness, we must come together as a unified nation.  To that end, we must “conduct this service,” we must follow God’s example of concealment, of expression through only the attributes of kindness and mercy.  There is a natural exhibitionist tendency that drives people to put themselves on display, to draw attention to as much of themselves as they can, to achieve as much public exposure as possible.  To earn God’s favor, we must follow His example of humility and privacy; we “wrap” ourselves “like a sheli’ach tzibur,” hiding our individualistic selves and seeing ourselves as members and representatives of something much larger than our own four cubits.  Rather than seeking to show people who we are, we should act in accordance with the attributes of mercy, acting kindly for kindness’s sake and not to draw attention to ourselves.  This is how we attain the status of “sheli’ach tzibur,” and how we follow God’s model of humble, selfless devotion, thereby earning His mercy and compassion or ourselves and for the entire nation.

Sunday

            In the introductory section to the Selichot service, we declare, based on a verse in Sefer Daniel (9:7), “Lecha Hashem ha-tzedaka ve-lanu boshet ha-panim” (“With You, O Lord, is the right, and shame is on us”).  Right from the outset, before we even begin praying, we proclaim our feeling of “boshet ha-panim,” our embarrassment and shame over our wrongdoing.

            How does the notion of “shame” apply to our relationship with God?  Embarrassment is usually felt when something that a person wishes to keep private is exposed.  One who committed an unethical act is embarrassed when it reaches the public’s ear; a public official who makes a grammatical mistake or misuses a word in a televised interview is embarrassed because his mistake was exposed to large numbers of people.  But when a person commits an offense against God, as it were, he is certainly aware of the fact that God saw and knows what occurred.  What “shame” do we experience as we stand before the Almighty?  Certainly, we feel remorseful and desperate for forgiveness.  But how can we describe ourselves as “ashamed”?  What embarrassing hidden information has suddenly become revealed?

            The answer, as discussed by Rav Yehuda Amital zt”l (http://www.etzion.org.il/vbm/update_views.php?num=3986&file=/vbm/archive/12-sichot/42ree-sichot.rtf), is that we are ashamed not before God, but rather before ourselves.  We feel ashamed because the areas of our lives that we have kept hidden from ourselves are now exposed.  All too conveniently, we have concealed the less flattering aspects of our personalities and our conduct under a thick covering of excuses.  Working as our own advocates, we come to our own defense by justifying wrongful conduct, or advancing tenuous arguments for why we are guiltless.  Before we recite Selichot, before we open our mouths to ask God for forgiveness, we must first remove this covering of shoddy defense and empty justification.  We expose ourselves to ourselves; we reveal to ourselves our mistakes, misdeeds, failings and flaws, in all their ugliness.  When we see who we really are, beneath the artificial, dismally improvised façade of piety and altruism, we cannot but feel ashamed.  God has always known the truth, but we haven’t.  Behavior that we had considered noble was really driven by ulterior, self-serving motives; measures that we had undertaken on the assumption that they were mandated or at least justifiable in light of their circumstances were actually inexcusable.  “Ve-lanu boshet ha-panim.”  We are ashamed of ourselves, suddenly recognizing the fallacies on the basis of which we had considered ourselves worthy and pious.

            Rav Amital noted in this context that all people have the simultaneous ability to look critically and defensively.  We are capable of focusing our attention on the negative aspects of all things and interpreting them in an incriminating light, and also of highlighting the positive and providing a defense and justification for what outwardly appears wrongful.  Unfortunately, we generally use the former skill in our evaluation of other people, and the latter in our self-assessment.  We criticize and scrutinize the conduct of our peers and leaders, while blindly defending our own positions and behavior.  In truth, we should be doing just the opposite – defending others while ruthlessly criticizing ourselves.  By honestly scrutinizing ourselves, we are able to grow and improve; and by defending others, we avoid unnecessary conflicts and tension that are so harmful and debilitating to family and communal life.  Certainly during the period of Aseret Yemei Teshuva, our minds should be focused on identifying the areas in which we need to improve, and repairing our relationships with those around us by giving them the benefit of the doubt and avoiding the destructive tendency to criticize and accuse.

Monday

            The Mishna in Masekhet Yoma (85b) famously establishes that one cannot achieve atonement for interpersonal offenses without seeking reconciliation from the victim.  The Rambam codifies this halakha in his Hilkhot Teshuva (2:9), and the Shulchan Arukh (O.C. 606:1), accordingly, rules that on Erev Yom Kippur one must ask forgiveness from people whom he had wronged.

The Rama, citing the Maharil, writes that the victim, for his part, should not refuse to grant forgiveness (see also the Rambam, Hilkhot Teshuva 2:10).  Interestingly enough, the Rama proceeds to cite the ruling of several Rishonim (based on the Yerushalmi in the eighth chapter of Masekhet Bava Kama) that a victim of hotza’at sheim ra (libel) is not required to grant forgiveness.  The Mishna Berura (606:11) explains that people who heard the false charges will not necessarily hear the disseminator’s retraction and request for forgiveness.  The victim will thus still continue to suffer from the defamation of character, and this absolves him of the obligation to grant forgiveness.  Nevertheless, the Mishna Berura cites several Acharonim as noting that the value of humility warrants granting forgiveness even for the grave prohibition of hotza’at sheim ra.

            The Ben Ish Chai (Parashat Vayelekh, 6) writes that before Yom Kippur one must make a point of asking forgiveness from his or her parents, teachers and spouse.

            The work Piskei Teshuvot (606:3) cites an interesting debate among the halakhic authorities as to whether one must ask forgiveness from somebody whom he knows for certain has already forgiven the offense.  According to some authorities, the primary element is not the result of achieving forgiveness, but rather the humility and submission involved in facing the victim, confessing wrongdoing, and asking forgiveness.  Thus, even if it can be assumed that the victim has forgiven, the offender must nevertheless approach him and ask forgiveness.  Others, however, disagree, and claim that the requirement is fulfilled once the victim grants forgiveness, regardless of how this is achieved.  Even this opinion, however, agrees that one cannot rely on the victim’s recitation of the “Hareini mochel” declaration customarily made each night, in which we expressly grant forgiveness to anybody who had wronged us at any point during the day.  Many people recite this text mindlessly, by rote, without thought, and it therefore cannot be assumed that one who recited this text indeed forgave the guilty party.

            Another interesting debate surrounds the issue of asking forgiveness from a victim who is unaware of the offense committed against him.  The Chafetz Chayim famously discusses this question (in Chafetz Chayim, 5:12) and rules that the halakha in this case depends on whether or not the victim suffered as a result of the wrongdoing.  For example, if a person spoke negatively about his peer, in violation of the grievous prohibition of lashon ha-ra, but the listeners paid no heed to the remarks and did not lend them any credence, then the speaker is not required to inform the victim of what he said and ask forgiveness.  Since the forbidden act did not affect the victim, he does not have to approach the victim.  However, if his remarks were accepted, and thus adversely affected the peer’s reputation among the listeners, then the speaker must, indeed, approach the victim, tell him that he spoke negatively about him, and beg for forgiveness.

            Rav Yisrael Salanter, however, reportedly disputed this ruling.  He claimed that by revealing to a person insulting comments made about him, of which he had been previously unaware, one transgresses a different prohibition, of causing his fellow distress.  Therefore, according to Rav Yisrael Salanter, it is preferable in such a case to ask forgiveness in a general sense, without specifying the offense that was committed.

            In this context, the Piskei Teshuvot (citing the Lu’ach Davar Be’ito) laments the common practice of formally requesting forgiveness before Yom Kippur from those whom we know we haven’t wronged, such as our close peers, but not from those whom we have actually wronged.  It has become almost an empty ritual among many to exchange requests for forgiveness, but few people are prepared to take the very difficult step of initiating reconciliation with those with whom they have a strained relationship.  The solemnity of the occasion offers us all the unique opportunity to at least attempt easing tensions that exist between us and other people.  By pursuing reconciliation, we can enter Yom Kippur free of the burden of interpersonal offenses, and also with the special joy of unity of mind and mission, as all Am Yisrael join together to plead before the Almighty for a favorable judgment and a year of health, blessing and prosperity.

Tuesday

            One of the more famous stages of the avodat Yom Ha-kippurim – the service performed in the Beit Ha-mikdash on Yom Kippur – is the ritual of the sa’ir la-azazel (commonly translated as “scapegoat”).  The kohen gadol is presented with two goats, upon which he casts lots.  One goat is designated by the lottery to be offered as a sacrifice, while the other, the sa’ir la-azazel, is sent into the wilderness.  The kohen gadol places his hands upon the goat, and declares confession on behalf of all Am Yisrael, symbolically transferring the nation’s sins onto the goat.  He then hands the goat over to a person assigned the task of bringing the goat into the desert east of Jerusalem, and casting it off a cliff as a symbol of the destruction of Benei Yisrael’s sins (Vayikra 16:21-22).

            The Gemara in Masekhet Yoma (66b) establishes that the person assigned the task of bringing the goat to the wilderness – called the “ish iti” – must enter the Temple courtyard to receive the goat from the kohen gadol even if he is currently tamei (in a state of ritual impurity).  It appears from the Gemara that the transfer of the goat from the kohen gadol to the ish iti must take place specifically inside the Temple courtyard.  Intuitively, we might have thought that if the ish iti was ritually impure, the kohen gadol (or somebody else, for that matter) should bring the goat to him outside the Temple.  The Gemara, however, insists that the ish iti receive the goat specifically inside the courtyard of the Mikdash, even if this requires his entry into the sacred domain of the Temple in a state of impurity – something which is normally strictly forbidden.

            The Shita Mekubetzet (Keritut 14) raises the question of why the transfer of the goat must take place specifically inside the azra (Temple courtyard).  The Shita suggests that the reason perhaps lies in the Torah’s requirement that the sa’ir la-azazel “stand alive before the Lord to atone upon it, to be sent to azazel, to the wilderness” (16:10).  This verse might indicate that the goat must remain “before the Lord” until it is sent into the desert, and from here, perhaps, Chazal understood that the ish iti must take the goat from the Temple courtyard.

            Rav Avraham Yitzchak Sorotzkin, in his Rinat Yitzchak (Parashat Acharei-Mot), questions this answer, noting that the term “lifnei Hashem” (“before the Lord”) appears several verses earlier (verse 7), in describing the preparation for the lots.  The Torah requires the kohen gadol to station the two goats “before the Lord” for the lottery, and Chazal (in Torat Kohanim) understood this to mean that the goats stood by the eastern gate to the courtyard (Sha’ar Nikkenor).  Seemingly, then, the term “lifnei Hashem” does not necessarily refer to the area inside the Temple courtyard.

            In defense of the Shita Mekubetzet, Rav Sorotzkin suggests a possible reason why Chazal felt compelled to interpret the phrase “lifnei Hashem” in the context of the sa’ir la-azazel as referring to the area inside the azara.  As cited earlier, the Torah speaks of the goat standing “alive before the Lord to atone upon it, to the sent to azazel.”  Rashi, commenting on this verse, explains the phrase “to atone upon it” as a reference to vidui – the confession that the kohen gadol declares with his hands on the goat.  Now the Rambam, in Hilkhot Ma’aseh Ha-korbanot (3:11), writes that semikha – the act of placing one’s hands over his sacrifice – must take place specifically in the azara.  (Rav Sorotzkin further proves from the context of the Rambam’s ruling that the semikha on the sa’ir la-azazel is included in this halakha.)  Hence, when the Torah writes that the goat must “stand alive before the Lord to atone upon it, to be sent to azazel, to the wilderness,” referring to the confession declared during the act of semikha, it means that the goat is brought inside the azara for the confession, and from there it is “sent to azazel.”  Chazal thus understood from this verse that the goat must be transferred to the ish iti specifically inside the azara.

Wednesday

            Among the interesting questions that have arose in the modern area concerning the Yom Kippur observance is the use of pills to alleviate the discomfort of fasting.  Many pharmacies in Israel sell pills that one can ingest on Erev Yom Kippur, just before the fast, and thereby experience considerably less discomfort during the 25-hour fast.  Is it permissible to make use of these substances, as they do not involve any ingestion during Yom Kippur itself?  Or, in light of the Torah’s requirement to “afflict your souls” (Vayikra 16:29 and elsewhere), does Halakha forbid employing techniques that allow one to fast comfortably?  Essentially, the question here is whether the command to “afflict” ourselves can impose restrictions on our behavior even before Yom Kippur.  Does this requirement take effect only on Yom Kippur itself, such that before Yom Kippur we are allowed to take any available measures to reduce or even eliminate our “affliction” on Yom Kippur?  Or, are we required even before Yom Kippur to ensure that we will feel “afflicted” during the observance?

            One source that might suggest expanding the command of “affliction” to govern our conduct even before Yom Kippur is cited by Rav Shlomo Yosef Zevin in his classic work Ha-mo’adim Ba-Halakha (p. 80).  The context of Rav Zevin’s discussion is the obligation of tosefet Yom Ha-kippurim, which requires adding onto Yom Kippur by beginning the observance before the formal onset of Yom Kippur which takes place at sundown.  There is considerable discussion among the halakhic authorities regarding the particular duration of time that one must add to the Yom Kippur observance.  Rav Zevin cites Rav Wolf Boskowitz, in his Seder Mishna commentary to the Rambam’s Mishneh Torah, as claiming – astonishingly enough – that one must begin fasting early enough on Erev Yom Kippur to ensure that he will experience at least some small degree of hunger at the onset of Yom Kippur.  Rav Boskowitz understood the command to feel “afflicted” on Yom Kippur as requiring that we experience hunger throughout the entirety of this day, even in the first hours on the night of Yom Kippur.  In his view, one may not continue eating until several minutes before sundown on Erev Yom Kippur (as is commonly done); rather, one must stop eating earlier in the day so that he will already begin feeling some degree of hunger once the sun sets.  A similar comment is made by the Chatam Sofer in his chiddushim to Masekhet Rosh Hashanah (new edition, 9a).

            According to this view, it would, presumably, be forbidden to take capsules before Yom Kippur to alleviate the discomfort of fasting.  Since the Torah demands feeling hungry throughout Yom Kippur, and thus forbids taking measures before Yom Kippur to avoid hunger on Yom Kippur, one would not be allowed to take these pills before the fast.  However, if the capsules merely reduce the discomfort of hunger, but do not eliminate it altogether, then they would perhaps be permissible even according to the view of the Seder Mishna and Chatam Sofer.  They understood the Torah’s command as requiring experiencing the sensation of hunger, but not necessarily as dictating any specific magnitude of hunger.  Seemingly, then, it would be permissible to undertake measures to diminish the intensity of the discomfort, if the discomfort is not eliminated entirely.

            Regardless, Rav Zevin dismisses this theory, and argues that it is certainly permissible to eat until just before sundown on Erev Yom Kippur.  For one thing, he notes, nowhere else do we find any mention in halakhic sources of a requirement to stop eating early in the afternoon on Erev Yom Kippur so that the food is digested before Yom Kippur begins.  Secondly, Rav Zevin draws our attention to the Gemara’s comments in Masekhet Yoma (74b) raising and rejecting the theory that the obligation of inui (affliction) requires measures such as standing outside in the hot sun or the cold.  In dispelling such a notion, the Gemara establishes a halakhic parity between the two obligations of Yom Kippur – “affliction,” and refraining from melakha (activity forbidden on Shabbat).  The Gemara writes that just as the prohibition against melakha is characterized by “sheiv ve-al ta’aseh” (inaction) – meaning, it forbids actions, but does not require doing any activity – similarly, the command of inui forbids engaging in certain activities, but does not require any specific action.  Rav Zevin infers from this Gemara that the command of inui is defined strictly as a prohibition against eating, drinking and engaging in the other forms of physical enjoyment specified by Halakha.  It does not require that we actively ensure to bring upon ourselves a state of inui on Yom Kippur.

            In any event, the theory of the Chatam Sofer and Seder Mishna do not appear to represent accepted, normative halakhic practice, and thus their view cannot serve as an authoritative basis for prohibiting the use of capsules.

            We will iy”H discuss this issue further in tomorrow’s edition of S.A.L.T.

Thursday

            Yesterday, we addressed the question of whether it is permissible to ingest capsules before the onset of Yom Kippur that help strengthen the body throughout the next day, thereby alleviating the discomfort of fasting.  We noted that some authorities – representing what appears to be a minority view – understood the command of inui – fasting on Yom Kippur – as requiring one to experience the sensation of hunger throughout Yom Kippur.  According to this view, one must discontinue eating early enough on Erev Yom Kippur that he experiences some degree of hunger already at the onset of Yom Kippur.  Seemingly, this view would not sanction tactics intended to relieve the experience of inui on Yom Kippur.  As mentioned, however, this view does not seem to represent conventional halakhic protocol, as evidenced by the common practice to end the Erev Yom Kippur meal just a short while before the onset of Yom Kippur.

However, as a number of writers have noted, there may be another source for forbidding active measures to alleviate the effects of fasting.  The Gemara (Pesachim 68b, Yoma 81a) famously establishes the requirement to eat and drink on Erev Yom Kippur.  Several different explanations have been given for this mitzva.  Among the more surprising theories proposed is that of the Shibolei Ha-leket, who claimed that festive eating on the day preceding a fast has the effect of intensifying the discomfort of fasting.  After the body has received large quantities of food, it expects the same the next day.  The Torah (or the Sages; it is unclear whether or not this constitutes a Biblical obligation) therefore required us to eat festively on the day before Yom Kippur, in order to intensify the level of inui experienced during the fast.  One could argue that according to the Shibolei Ha-leket’s theory, that Halakha specifically enjoins us to increase our level of inui on Yom Kippur, it would certainly be forbidden, or at least improper, to take measures to reduce our level of inui.  Seemingly, the Shibolei Ha-leket would consider it at least against the spirit of Halakha – if not an outright halakhic violation – to employ tactics to alleviate the discomfort of fasting.

In yesterday’s discussion, we noted that underlying this issue is the question of whether or not the mitzva of inui can govern or restrict our behavior before Yom Kippur.  Probing a bit deeper, it would seem that this question reflects a much broader question surrounding the command of inui.  Namely, does the Torah command us to experience the sensation of fasting, or simply to refrain from eating?  According to the first perspective, we are bidden to feel discomfort on Yom Kippur as this leads us to a sense of humility and subservience, and also gives us some indication of the kind of suffering we deserve on account of our wrongdoing.  According to the second understanding, by contrast, the Torah’s objective is not to make us feel uncomfortable – though this is generally the result of fasting – but rather to force us to focus exclusively on prayer and repentance.  The goal is not hunger, but rather withdrawal from physical engagement and complete immersion in spirituality.  According to the first perspective, we would likely forbid employing tactics to reduce or eliminate the feeling of hunger on Yom Kippur, as the fast is specifically intended for the purpose of experiencing discomfort.  Conversely, if we view the fast as intended to focus our attention on repentance and prayer, then any activities performed before Yom Kippur would seemingly be permissible, even if they alleviate the uncomfortable effects of the fast.

            As for the final halakha, the issue of using capsules before Yom Kippur is discussed by Rav Eliezer Waldenberg in his Tzitz Eliezer (vol. 7, 32:4).  He notes that the Sedei Chemed cites authorities who forbid the use of such remedies, but Rav Waldenberg disputes this ruling.  He cites the Chelkat Yaakov as claiming that there is no prohibition involved whatsoever, since the Yom Kippur prohibitions do not restrict behavior before Yom Kippur, and this is, as mentioned, Rav Waldenberg’s conclusion.

Friday

            Yesterday, we noted the famous halakha established by the Gemara (Pesachim 68b, Yoma 81b) requiring one to eat and drink on Erev Yom Kippur.  We also mentioned the surprising explanation given to this obligation by the Shibolei Ha-leket, who claimed that the festive eating and drinking on Erev Yom Kippur is intended to intensify, rather than ease, the discomfort of fasting on Yom Kippur.  In his view, eating abundantly has the effect of accustoming the body to large intakes of food, such that it expects the same level of nourishment the next day.  The festivities on Erev Yom Kippur thus serve to enhance the experience of “inui” (“affliction”) which the Torah requires on Yom Kippur.

            The Rosh, cited by his son, the Tur (O.C. 604), suggested the precise opposite, and far more intuitive, approach.  He wrote that although God commanded us to abstain from food and drink throughout the day of Yom Kippur, He did not wish for us to suffer.  Just as a father who anticipates that his son will be without food for a day ensures to feed him robust meals the day before, similarly, God, our loving Father, “feeds” us before Yom Kippur to prepare us for the difficult fast that lies ahead.  According to the Rosh, then, the obligation to eat on Erev Yom Kippur is intended to minimize the discomfort the fasting, reflecting the fact that the command of “inui” does not require us to endure excessive suffering on the day of Yom Kippur.  Although we are indeed commanded to refrain from food and drink, we are encouraged to do what we can to reduce the level of discomfort experienced due to the fast.  (The Rosh’s approach might likely affect the issue we discussed in our last two editions of S.A.L.T. concerning taking capsules on Erev Yom Kippur that help ease the effects of fasting.  According to the Rosh, such measures are certainly consonant with the spirit of Erev Yom Kippur, during which we are to prepare as best we can for the upcoming period of fasting.)

            The Beit Yosef (O.C. 604) proposes a different explanation for this mitzva:

[This mitzva serves] to show that Yom Kippur is pleasing and acceptable to him and he is happy to welcome it because atonement is given to Israel.  And since it is not possible on Yom Kippur itself to honor it with eating and drinking as we honor other festivals, we must honor it on the preceding day.

According to the Beit Yosef, the Erev Yom Kippur festivities are intended as an expression of our enthusiasm toward the observance of Yom Kippur.  Despite the difficult fast, the celebration of Yom Kippur is not something we approach with resentment or with any qualms.  We cherish the opportunity given to us to repair our relationship with God, and since we cannot express this special joy through eating and drinking on Yom Kippur itself, we conduct the festivities on Erev Yom Kippur.  Rabbenu Yona similarly writes in his Sha’arei Teshuva (4:8) that one is rewarded for eating festively on Yom Kippur “because he has shown his joy at the arrival of the time of his atonement, and this shall serve as testimony to his anxiety over his guilt and anguish over his iniquities.”  The Erev Yom Kippur celebration serves to express our “relief” over the long-awaited arrival of our day of atonement, which we have so eagerly anticipated out of our intense worry and concern over our wrongdoing.  In effect, then, this celebration testifies to the extent to which our burden of guilt has weighed heavily on our minds.

            Rabbenu Yona then adds a slightly different explanation, suggesting that the Erev Yom Kippur celebration takes the place of the Yom Tov festivity.  Yom Kippur, as a Yom Tov, requires, in principle, a proper festival feast, as we enjoy on every other Yom Tov.  Since the feast cannot be held on the day of Yom Kippur, we conduct the celebration the day before.

            Finally, the Perisha explains this mitzva as a way of demonstrating that we fast on Yom Kippur because of the Torah’s command.  By eating festively on the ninth of Tishrei and then stopping to eat just before sundown, we underscore the fact that our refraining from food on Yom Kippur is due to our compliance with the divine command, and not due to a general disinterest in food.