By: Moran Rosenblit
We are in the midst of times of profound significance—appointed times set by God for the children of Israel. Yom Kippur, the Day of Atonement, stands as the most solemn day on the Hebrew calendar. In recent years, I’ve written articles like “Why I Observe Yom Kippur” and “Why Does Yom Kippur Matter?” But as I sit to write today, I find myself asking a deeper question: Why should we even need to justify our obedience to God? Why has it become necessary to explain why we choose to follow His commandments?
Yom Kippur wasn’t established as a mere tradition. It is a direct fulfillment of God’s command to the Israelites after they were delivered from Egypt:
This shall be an eternal statute for you: in the seventh month, on the tenth day of the month, you shall afflict your souls and do no work… for it is on this day that atonement shall be made for you to cleanse you; you shall be clean from all your sins before the LORD. It shall be a Sabbath of solemn rest… it is a permanent statute.
Leviticus 16:29-31
Is God the same yesterday, today, and forever? If He is, then His commands are eternal. As a Jewish person who recognizes the ultimate atonement for sin through Yeshua, the promised Messiah, I am still part of Israel. I believe in following God's instructions, which remain unchangeable. Yom Kippur was given to Israel as a collective act of repentance—a yearly reminder of the need for atonement as a nation. It never replaced the need for personal repentance or individual atonement.
From the earliest days of the Tabernacle, God required the shedding of blood for the forgiveness of sin (Leviticus 17). This culminated in the ultimate sacrifice—the perfect Lamb, Yeshua, whose blood was shed for the eternal atonement of all. While many of my fellow Jewish people may not yet recognize this truth, the existence of Yom Kippur acknowledges one undeniable reality: sin requires forgiveness.
Yet, today, without a Temple, there is no sacrifice, no shedding of blood. This creates a profound tension. In the absence of sacrifice, many Jewish people seek forgiveness through fasting, prayer, and repentance. But as a follower of Messiah Yeshua, I understand that the ultimate price for sin was already paid two thousand years ago. Yom Kippur is not about securing my salvation—that was achieved through Yeshua’s sacrifice. But it remains an opportunity for me to reflect, repent, and align my heart with God’s will.
Obeying God’s commands doesn’t earn me salvation, but it reflects my love for Him and my desire to walk in obedience. Fasting and prayer on Yom Kippur are not substitutes for the blood required for sin's forgiveness, but they are acts of humility before the God who made that ultimate sacrifice.
There’s a bigger picture here. Yom Kippur points to something beyond personal atonement. It speaks to the corporate forgiveness of Israel—a nation chosen by God. As with all Biblical Appointed Times, Yom Kippur holds prophetic significance. In Zechariah 12, we are given a glimpse of Israel’s future redemption. The chapter begins with a prophecy of physical deliverance for Jerusalem, but it ends with something far more profound:
…They will look on Me whom they have pierced, and they will mourn for Him, as one mourns for an only son…
Zechariah 12:10
Imagine that moment—when Israel collectively recognizes her Messiah. It will not be a time of joy, but of deep mourning, as the nation finally acknowledges the One whom we pierced. As Paul wrote in Romans 11:15, “…For if their rejection brought reconciliation to the world, what will their acceptance be but life from the dead?” Israel’s rejection led to the salvation of the world, but her acceptance will herald something even greater!
The call to “afflict” our souls on Yom Kippur is tied to this prophetic vision. In Leviticus 16:29, the Hebrew word תענו (ta’anu), often translated as “afflict, humble, or deny”, actually means to “torture” or “oppress” oneself. It’s a word that conveys deep suffering. Yeshua Himself exemplified this when He submitted to the Father’s will in the Garden of Gethsemane. His obedience led to suffering—suffering that ultimately gave us eternal life. As we reflect on Yom Kippur, we must ask ourselves: Are we willing to align our will with God’s, even when it brings discomfort or pain?
So, how will I observe Yom Kippur? I will fast, read Scripture, and confess my sins before the Lord. I will join with the people of Israel in humbling myself before God, while also interceding for the salvation of my nation through Messiah Yeshua. For me, Yom Kippur is not just a day of ritual—it is a day of hope. We hope that Israel will soon recognize her Messiah. We hope for the ultimate redemption of God's chosen people.
As we enter this solemn day, I extend to you the traditional greeting: “G’mar Hatima Tovah”— May your name be inscribed in the Book of Life, in Messiah Yeshua.
7 Comments on “Yom Kippur: Hope for Redemption”
Thank you for taking the time to explain in detail just what Yom Kippur holds for you. It enables someone like me, a Gentile, to keep my own salvation in a proper perspective. Without Israel’s stubbornness I might never been afforded the opportunity to be made right with an Almighty God. It never ceases to amaze me how in control my Heavenly Father remains, even to this day, with all the chaos in our world. I am always mindful that all God has to offer is made available first to the Jew, then to the Gentile. This gives me hope for the nation of Israel moving forward!
The nations also would have been left in the dark without the work of the faithful ones of Israel. The world heard because of the faith and faithfulness of those original Jewish talmidim who shared the good message of the coming kingdom and how to be part of it through faith in Yeshua with the people of the nations. The leaders of Israel rejected the challenge to their authority and religious dominance, but the people of Israel flocked to Him by the thousands.
Joining with you Moran on this Holy Day. Love you brother.
I am so grateful to have Moran as my Teacher. As a child of eleven in 1965 I stood in Dachau and glanced up at one of the huge billboards within a large otherwise vacant room. As my mother passed behind me, I asked of her as tears flowed down my cheeks, “What did these people do to deserve this”? There was no answer given; this was a woman on a mission that with great research would one day culminate in an eleven-page letter to me in 1989 that her Papa who died when she was just five years old was an Ashkenazi Jew whose people originally came from Prague Czechoslovakia. My Mother’s quest had begun when we were stationed in the military in Zweibrucken and Karlsruhe Germany during the early sixties. Since learning this information, I have studied and learned everything about your people, my people a nation I knew only through the Holy Scriptures. I was raised in Church and gave my life to Yeshua when I was twelve and then rededicated my life to Him again at a Billy Graham Crusade in 1972. There is much that the Church does not teach, so I am very grateful to everything that you have to offer, I am more Jew today than I was all those years ago and I am so grateful for being a part of the people from the book. My mother is Cherokee/Choctaw Indian, Cherokee on her mother’s side and Choctaw/German Jew on her papa’s side, clothes were torn, gravestones erected for a son who chose a heathen over his own people.
Thank you for all that you do.
Shalom
Love this reflection. Very powerful!
Thank you for this excellent article ! G’mar Hatima Tovah! ❤️
Amen!