Throughout the course of Yom Kippur, we repeat ten times this confession of a series of sins. It is a powerful prayer; each time you recite a sin, you beat your hand on your chest. There are a lot of sins on the list, but here are a few:
For the sin which we have committed before You by hard-heartedness.
For the sin which we have committed before You under duress or willingly.
For the sin which we have committed before You knowingly or unknowingly.
And for the sin which we have committed before You with a timid heart.
The rabbi's sermon last night on Kol Nidre (the holiest night of the Jewish calendar, the night of Yom Kippur, the Day of Atonement) focused on the last line, the last of the series of sins. He talked about the true meaning of courage - which does not mean lack of fear but rather not letting your fears get in the way of doing what you want to do or being yourself. "Don't let other people's opinions control who you are," he said. And so, I listened.
Today, I wore my tallit to services. What's funny is that simply being myself in the synagogue is, in itself, an act of subversion. I've covered this theme before. Except last night, listening to that sermon, I came to a different conclusion. I decided that I was not going to let other people decide for me who I will be. I will be myself. I will not be dogmatic in my views, nor will I let others' dogma determine my behavior.
And you know what? No one said anything to me. No one walked out of services because of me (that I know of).
Of course, this all isn't really fair. I'm clearly gringa and I clearly would use that to my advantage if anyone approached me about it. Yes, well, this is the tallit from my Bat Mitzvah. I was raised in a Jewish community that allows women to wear tallit and I am following the Jewish traditions that I was raised with. Colombian women would not have it so easy. But that's another issue. I can be myself. And I should not let timidity of the heart get in the way of that.
And today we both fasted. For the first time in... well, who knows, if ever. And we went to services all day. I'm talking about allllll day, minus a 2-hour break between Musaf and Mincha when we went and sat in a park. It felt surprisingly good, and not as hard to fast when you're not at home tempted by what's in the cupboard. I feel fresh and ready to start this year at full-speed.
We broke the fast at the house of some new friends. Most of the people there are in the current conversion class. They were all so warm and insightful and open and of all ages. Two of the guys realized that they are second cousins, and we all watched in wonder as they exchanged family stories. Today was full of community, the thing that I have most missed in Bogotá.
I don't remember the last time Yom Kippur was this meaningful.
