Parasha: Leviticus 16:1-34
Maftir: Numbers 29:7-11
Haftarah: Jonah 1:1-4:11, Micah 7:18-20

As we enter Yom Kippur, the Day of Atonement, the words from Leviticus 16:1-34 echo deeply in our hearts. This is not just another ritual or tradition to observe; it is a profound opportunity to reflect on our relationship with God and the purpose of our existence. Over the past year, particularly since October 7th, I’ve come to realize just how fragile and limited our time on earth truly is. It has caused me to ask myself: What am I filling my life with? What truly matters when everything else fades away?

Yom Kippur, a day appointed by God for reflection, repentance, and return, is the culmination of days meant for soul-searching. This sacred season of mo’adim —God’s appointed times—urges us to pause and confront our innermost selves. In the busyness of life, we often move forward with little thought for the bigger picture, but Yom Kippur compels us to step back and consider our path, our choices, and our relationship with the Almighty.

In Leviticus, God commands the Israelites to "afflict" their souls—a physical gesture symbolizing deep spiritual humility. The sacrifices within the sacrificial system under the Law of Moses were a means for the people to atone for their sins, but they also pointed to something far greater: the ultimate atonement that God Himself would provide. This physical affliction, this humbling, isn’t about self-harm—it is about setting aside pride, worldly distractions, and the clutter of daily life to meet God with open hearts.

This shall be a permanent statute for you: in the seventh month, on the tenth day of the month, you shall humble* your souls and not do any work, whether the native, or the stranger who resides among you; for it is on this day that atonement shall be made for you to cleanse you; you will be clean from all your sins before the LORD. It is to be a sabbath of solemn rest for you, so that you may humble yourselves; it is a permanent statute. So the priest who is anointed and ordained to serve as priest in his father’s place shall make atonement: he shall put on the linen garments, the holy garments, and make atonement for the holy sanctuary, and he shall make atonement for the tent of meeting and for the altar. He shall also make atonement for the priests and for all the people of the assembly. Now you shall have this as a permanent statute, to make atonement for the sons of Israel for all their sins once every year, just as the Lord had commanded Moses.
Leviticus 16:29-34
*A more accurate translation from the Hebrew would be “ torture” versus “humble”

The High Priest, once a year, would enter the Holy of Holies to make atonement for the people’s sins. This solemn ritual was a reminder that atonement—true reconciliation with God—was not something that could be earned but only received as an act of grace. Yet this ancient practice always foreshadowed the ultimate, divine act of atonement through the Messiah, as prophesied in Isaiah 53:

Surely our griefs He Himself bore, and our sorrows He carried; yet we ourselves esteemed Him stricken, smitten of God, and afflicted. But He was pierced for our offenses, He was crushed for our wrongdoings; the punishment for our well-being was laid upon Him, and by His wounds we are healed. All of us, like sheep, have gone astray, each of us has turned to his own way; but the Lord has caused the wrongdoing of us all to fall on Him."
Isaiah 53:4-5

Isaiah’s words resonate powerfully: “He was pierced for our offenses, crushed for our wrongdoings; the punishment for our well-being was laid upon Him.” The Messiah’s sacrifice represents the ultimate gift of grace—atonement not through an animal sacrifice, but through His own life. Yet, how often do we, as believers, take this sacrifice for granted? How often do we view it as a license to continue living as we always have, unchanged, untransformed by the enormity of what has been done for us?

Sadly, many well-meaning followers of Yeshua misunderstand the gravity of this gift. They see it as a “finished work,” something to rest in without personal responsibility. But Scripture reminds us that we are called to something far deeper. Yeshua’s sacrifice is not a free pass; it is an invitation to live a life that honors God in every way. Paul (Rav Sha’ul) reminds us in Romans 14 that each of us will stand before the judgment seat of God and give an account of our lives.

But you, why do you judge your brother? Or you again, why do you regard your brother with contempt? For we will all stand before the judgment seat of God. For it is written: ‘As I live, says the Lord, every knee shall bow to Me, and every tongue shall give praise to God.’ So then each one of us will give an account of himself to God.
Romans 14:10-12

“Each one of us will give an account of himself to God.” These words pierce my heart especially during this season. It is not enough to rest in the idea that we are chosen; we must ask ourselves if we are living in a way that reflects the gravity of that calling. The arrogance and pride that sometimes creep into our faith journey must be replaced with humility and reverence. We should approach this season with a broken spirit, examining ourselves not just outwardly but deeply within.

Yom Kippur is not just about collective repentance, though that is vital. It is about personal repentance—turning back to God with a heart full of sorrow for our sins and gratitude for His mercy. It is about realizing that the gift of atonement comes with a responsibility: to live a life that reflects the One who gave it to us. This reflection doesn’t end when Yom Kippur does—it must be the constant rhythm of our lives.

The prophet Micah captures this beautifully:

Who is a God like You, who pardons wrongdoing and passes over a rebellious act of the remnant of His inheritance? He does not retain His anger forever, because He delights in unchanging love. He will again have compassion on us; He will tread our iniquities underfoot. Yes, You will cast all their sins into the depths of the sea. You will give truth to Jacob and unchanging love to Abraham, which You swore to our forefathers from the days of old.
Micah 7:18-20

Micah’s vision of a compassionate, merciful God who delights in grace should move us to our core. God is not eager to punish; He longs to forgive, to cast our sins into the depths of the sea, and to restore us to a place of truth and favor. This mercy should drive us not to complacency but to deeper devotion.

In these sacred days, I invite you to search your soul. Don’t rush past this opportunity to return to God in humility and reverence. Ask yourself the difficult questions: Am I truly living a life that honors the atonement I’ve received? Am I walking in alignment with God’s will, or am I simply going through the motions?

Yom Kippur offers us a chance to recalibrate, to repent, and to recommit ourselves to a life that honors God in all that we do. We stand before the Almighty, not with excuses or justifications, but with open hearts, ready to receive His forgiveness and grace. And in that moment of atonement, we are reminded of the incredible gift we’ve been given—and the responsibility that comes with it. May we live lives that reflect that truth.

Shabbat Shalom and may you have a meaningful fast.
Moran