THE WAYS OF ATONEMENT

At the very beginning of the Laws of Teshuva, Maimonides explains that teshuva requires confession, and he describes this confession as consisting of three elements:

An enumeration of the actual sin. 
An expression of regret for having done the sin. 
An expression of firm resolve never to do it again.

He then goes on to discuss Yom Kippur:

Yom Kippur, is a time of teshuva for everyone -- for the individual as well as the congregation. It marks the final stage of forgiveness and pardon for Israel, therefore, everyone is commanded to repent and confess on Yom Kippur... The confession that Israel has adopted to say on Yom Kippur is: "But we have sinned," and this is the essence of confession. (Laws of Teshuva 2:7-8) 

It is perplexing to note that two of the three elements Maimonides himself earlier stated as essential requirements of confession are missing from the confession recited on Yom Kippur -- regret, and the undertaking never to repeat the sin. If this confession is the final act of teshuva adopted by Israel, how is it that the most important parts of this act of contrition are absent from it?

To be able to answer this question, it is important to understand the role that confession plays in teshuva. Jews do not confess to a priest who gives them absolution. The confession is done in private and is made directly to God. As teshuva is an act of the heart, what possible role does such a confession play in it?

The rationale of teshuva is change. A person's actions reflect his beliefs, his character and his personality. When he repents, he is making a statement: "I am not the same person today as the one who committed the sin. I have changed and such an act no longer expresses the person I am today. I look back at the person who committed the sin, and I no longer see myself in him or identify with that act." 

When this is a sincere process, God accepts it and takes note of the change. Since the person has changed, and the sin no longer reflects his character and personality as they are today, it is impossible to hold the person of today morally responsible and liable for the acts of a person who no longer exists, and God duly pardons the sin. 

A PROCESS OF CHANGE

As we humans are unable to see into a person's heart, and we can only see each other's deeds, we cannot take note of teshuva in human justice systems. Nevertheless we are able to relate to the principle -- if the sinner becomes a genuinely different person we can recognize the justice of excusing him from having to suffer the consequences of actions that do not reflect the character of the person he has become and who does not deserve to be punished.

In effect then, teshuva involves the shedding of old character. We are unable to alter our height, our IQ, or our age, but we can alter our character. When we repent we are changing our inner furniture, leaving only the outer shell intact. 

The shedding of character is in effect externalizing what was, until then, the innermost core of our beings, our old operating system, the primary source of our past behavior and motivation. We shed these like a snake sloughs off his old skin and emerges with a brand new one. 

To externalize the inner man requires speech. It is through speech that what is inside the heart and mind of a person becomes a part of the outer world. The verbalizing of teshuva in the form of confession is the act of shedding old thoughts and attitudes, rejecting them and making them part of the external world instead of our inner environment. 

Change is difficult. We often regret our actions as soon as they are finished, but rarely do we succeed in really changing ourselves. Most often we repeat our mistakes and suffer the regret all over again each time we repeat the mistake. The resolution never to do this again is what generally defeats our sincere desire to be better than we are at present. This is where Yom Kippur comes in.

On Yom Kippur, the High Priest entered the Holy of Holies. This is a special environment, and entering at the wrong time caused the deaths of Aaron's two sons:

And God said to Moses: "Speak to Aaron your brother - he shall not come at all times into the Sanctuary (the Holy of Holies) within the curtain, in front of the cover that is on the Ark, so that he should not die; for in a cloud will I appear on the Ark-cover. (Leviticus 16:2)

HOLY OF HOLIES

In order to understand the significance of entering the Holy of Holies, we have to understand how we ourselves are put together.

The human soul has five levels, of which the lower three are connected to our physical realities. At the core of our being we have a neshama which is always connected to God, to an extent that it is difficult to tell where the divine presence ends and the person begins. This neshama is connected to our ruach, our spiritual selves, which in turn is connected to our nefesh, the life force that burns within us and is the engine that drives us.

As the Holy of Holies in the Temple is the place that the Shechinah inhabits, the High Priest who enters this sanctuary on Yom Kippur, enters it on the level of neshama.

The point of life is self-definition. Were we aware of ourselves on the level of neshama, and were we conscious of our connection to God, the point of our lives would be quite clear to us. We wouldn't be at all confused as to why we exist and what we are supposed to do with our lives. But the point of life is to live with free will, and therefore such soul-consciousness is ordinarily withheld. 

Instead, we are torn between our raging life force, our nefesh, and the awareness of our spirituality, our ruach, and this conflict creates within us a confusion as to who and what we are. This confusion is the source of our transgressions, and is the dilemma that forms the backdrop against which we exercise our free will.

Of the neshama, we are ordinarily totally oblivious. Thus, we are always engaged in the battle of self-definition, and we can never attain total resolution.

Stepping into the Holy of Holies eliminates the confusion and provides total clarity of vision as to the source of our being. But to enjoy such clarity runs contrary to the purpose of life in this world, and thus to enter the Holy of Holies is to step out of life as it must be lived in this world. When Aaron's two sons took this step, they terminated the point of their existence here.

And yet, such clarity is a necessary part of the existence of every Jew. We must be able to obtain an occasional glimpse at our origins, otherwise the accumulation of the errors of existence will move us steadily further and further away from our origins until the way back is so unclear that it is impossible to attain. That would also serve to eliminate the point of our existence, because when we totally lose the ability to find our way back to our origins we also lose our free will.

THE GIFT OF YOM KIPPUR

That is why God gave us Yom Kippur. On this one special day, God allowed us to step out of our ordinary selves and gave us a glimpse of our true connection to Him, and allowed our representative, the High Priest, to become self aware on the level of neshama. This allowed us to return to our origins, to temporarily resolve our conflicts, and to be able to push out the things separating us from God.

Now we can easily comprehend the difference between the confession of the penitent, and the confession we utter on Yom Kippur. In the confusion of ordinary life, when we are not self aware on the level of neshama, changing of character and self-definition is an extremely difficult process. To attain the levels of sincere regret and firm resolution never to return to past misdeeds -- the necessary concomitants of all character change -- are extremely arduous tasks. Therefore, teshuva is extremely difficult to attain, and the penitent must reach very lofty spiritual levels on the basis of his own efforts.

On Yom Kippur -- when we are offered a glimpse of our origins and the confusion of self-definition is largely eliminated -- the rejection of all our negatives becomes a matter of course. We are able to push out all our sinful activities as being truly unreflective of our true selves, because we are provided a glimpse of who we really are. Thus the confession of Yom Kippur is simply that we have sinned. We regret our inequities and can truly resolve never to return to them not through our own efforts, but through the clear vision of ourselves that the holiness of the day provides.

Isaac's twins, Jacob and Esau, attained this total clarity of self-definition on their own, through freedom of choice. Jacob defined himself as a neshama -- a wholesome man, totally consistent and whole and free of contradictions. Esau declared, "Look I am going to die," thus openly defining himself as a creature of this world only, a man of the field.

During the rest of the year we lose the clarity of vision that allows such sharp definition, but on Yom Kippur, this original distinction between Jacob and Esau reestablishes itself. This then is the secret behind the idea of the "scapegoat."

The loss of the Temple and the sacrifice of the "scapegoat" does not mean that we have entirely lost Yom Kippur. But as we inhabit a world of action rather than spirit, we are always hampered by an inability to translate our thoughts into deeds. Today, Yom Kippur still helps us to attain the spiritual level of true teshuva.

In the Holy Temple in Jerusalem, Yom Kippur had two unusual rituals in Jewish life: The entrance of the High Priest into the Holy of Holies, and the selection of twin goats. What's behind all this? 

The objective of Yom Kippur is to bring about forgiveness for the entire people:

For on that day I will forgive you, to purify you from all your sins, in front of God you will become pure. (Leviticus 16:30) 

Aside from the entire nation, special attention is given to the Sanctuary and the Kohanim, the priests:

He [the Kohen] shall atone for the Holy Sanctuary and for the Tent of the Meeting, and for the altar, he will atone; for the Kohanim and for the entire people of the congregations, he shall atone. (Leviticus 16:33)

Clearly, part of the service deals with improper behavior on the part of the Kohanim. 

The Torah tells us that Aaron himself should not enter the inner sanctum at all times, only at the proper time, and in the proper sequence of worship. When Aaron's sons, Nadav and Avihu, entered the Sanctuary and approached God in a moment of ecstasy, Aaron is given very specific instructions on the manner and conditions for service.

God spoke to Moses: "Speak to your brother Aaron that he not come at all times into the Holy Sanctuary that is inside the curtain before the Ark cover that is on the Ark so that he not die, for in a cloud I shall appear on the Ark cover." (Leviticus 16:2)

The meaning is clear -- the line between service of God and self-styled service may be a thin one, but that line may be the difference between life and death. 

UNDERSTANDING YOM KIPPUR

In order to understand this better -- and with it, the service of Yom Kippur -- we must draw a comparison with the actions of the sons of Aaron which led to their deaths. 

The Shem MiShmuel suggested that the sin of Nadav and Avihu resulted from unbridled passion and love of God. This passion was generated by the events of the eighth day of the inauguration of the Tabernacle. The Talmud also tells us that this day was especially beloved for God:

It was taught, on that day there was as much joy in front of God as the day of creation of heaven and earth. (Talmud - Megillah 10b)

Reacting to the joy, and acting out of a feeling of ecstasy, Nadav and Avihu approached God in an improper manner and died as a result. 

The seriousness and somberness of Yom Kippur stands in stark contrast to the ecstasy of Nadav and Avihu. And its message is clear: The pitfall of religious experience born of ecstasy is trying to create a relationship which is not wanted by God.

To act out of ecstasy alone is to make the experience a subjective and selfish one -- one desired by the worshiper but not by the object of worship. The end result may mean that the worshipper is crossing the line between creating a god in his image instead of manifesting the image of God within himself.

This does not mean that Judaism does not recognize that a sincere act of worship can come out of ecstatic experience. Indeed it can. We all desire a joyful relationship with God, but such a relationship can only be developed from a desire to please God in the manner He has taught us He wants to be pleased.

LOVE AND FEAR OF GOD

This is the balance between "love of God" and "fear of God" that the Sages speak of. Only after the Yom Kippur service in which we follow God's detailed instructions, may we find ourselves relating to God through love. In the days of the Temple, the Yom Kippur service concluded in a great outpouring of joy:

Rabban Shimon ben Gamiliel taught: There were not joyful days in Israel like the 15th of Av and Yom Kippur. (Mishnah Ta'anit 4:8)

The Sages tell of the streets of Jerusalem filled with well-wishers. The High Priest would not arrive home for hours after the services were complete. The greatest spectacle of celebration known as the Simchat Beit Hashoeva would follow Yom Kippur by a week. 

It was said, he who never saw the Simchat Beit Hashoeva never saw joy in his life. (Mishnah Sukka 5:1)

The balance between fear of God (demonstrated by strict adherence to the details of observance) and joyous celebration of the love of God is highlighted by this festival.

Another -- perhaps the archetypal example -- of the ecstatic expression of love for God was demonstrated by King David (Samuel II 6:16), but David also possessed a profound sense of fear of God, as the Book of Psalms bears witness.

The ecstasy of Nadav and Avihu was missing this second most important balancing component. As a response to their behavior, therefore, we see the detailed instructions for the service of Yom Kippur. 

The incense which they offered is replaced by the incense which Aaron is commanded to offer, and one error in the performance of this task could be fatal. The food and drink of the sons of Aaron is replaced by a day of complete abstinence from food and drink.

TWIN GOATS

Other details of the service of Yom Kippur also take on new meaning when seen in contrast to the actions of Nadav and Avihu. The central worship of the day involved two goats -- one offered in the Sanctuary, the other sent into the desert.

This practice would seem to be a response to the different types of worship -- in the Sanctuary, for God, and the other that had no place in the Sanctuary, or even among the living at all, sent to a place of desolation. 

This worship is quite bizarre. Why would we take a goat simply to reject it and send it away? The law seems to teach us about the stark difference between service of God which is accepted and beloved by God, versus the "scapegoat" which represents that which has been rejected by God. Yet there is more:

The two goats on Yom Kippur; the mitzvah is for them to be identical in appearance, size, and value, the two shall be chosen together. (Talmud - Yoma 62a)

The Talmud teaches that these two goats should look identical -- like twins. This seems strange. Why would the goats need to be identical, especially when their purpose is so different? 

The idea of twins -- twins who are opposites -- is a familiar theme in the Torah. The most famous twins in the Torah are, of course, Jacob and Esau. They were complete opposites, one good, the other evil. No one could ever confuse them. On the other hand, perhaps they did possess some similarities. Rashi (Genesis 25:27) tells us that until the age of 13 they were indistinguishable, as does the Midrash:

Esau was worthy to be called Jacob and Jacob was worthy to be called Esau. (Midrash Zuta Shir HaShirim 1:15)

They were so similar that at times their similarity caused confusion. One dressed as the other, one spoke like the other.

It is strange that the divine plan required twins? Perhaps just being siblings would have been enough? Evidently the Torah wanted these two, Jacob and Esau, to be almost the same. Perhaps their similarity represents the thin line between acceptable behavior and idolatry, between good an evil.

Rabbi Yitzchak Hutner noted this parallel, and suggested that when things look alike from the exterior, it is a sign that one must look within -- at the essence -- in order to discern the difference (Pachad Yitzchak, Purim, p.43). 

The idea of the two goats is intrinsically related to the personalities of Jacob and Esau, identical on the outside but so different in terms of their essence. The reason that we need to offer the second goat -- the scapegoat -- is that so often we find ourselves dressing up like Esau instead of behaving like the Jacob/Israel that we are.

The origin of the two goats themselves may very well be found in that famous episode when Jacob is persuaded by his mother to dress up like his brother. Rebecca instructs him:

"Go now to the herd and bring me two good goats..." (Genesis 27:9)

The Midrash expands on this idea:

How do we know that it was in the merit of Jacob [that we take the two goats]? These are the goats that his mother referred to "Go now to the herd and bring me two good goats..." Why are they called "good"?

Rabbi Brechia said in the name of Rabbi Chelbo: "They are good for you and good for your children. They are good for you when you enter, and take the blessings from your father, and they are good for your children, when they soil themselves in sin all year round. Then they will bring these two goats, and offer them and be cleansed." (Pesikta Rabbati 47)

Jacob's entrance to his father may be paralleled with the once-yearly entrance of the Kohen Gadol, the High Priest, into the Holy of Holies. Jacob prepared for this appearance with the two goats, as his descendents would in the future.

A GOAT FOR AZAZEL

While we may now understand the symbolism of the two goats, we have not gained any insight into why the goat sent into the wilderness was called a goat "for Azazel." 

Rabbi Menachem Azarya DeFano, in his work "Sefat Emet," explains that the name Azazel is an acronym for ze le'umat ze asa Elokim -- "God has made one as well as the other," as it says:

In the day of prosperity be joyful, in the day of adversity consider: God has made the one as well as the other. (Ecclesiastes 7:14)

According to Rabbi DeFano, the contrast between good and evil, with the recognition that both emanate from God, is encapsulated by this verse. In explaining further, the Midrash makes a link that God made both Jacob and Esau (Pesikta D'Rav Kahana Chapter 28).

It is fascinating that the quintessential example brought to illustrate that both righteousness and evil are from God is none other than the case of Jacob and Esau. We understand from this that, in a sense, good needs evil in order to exist, if for no other reason than to have something to reject. It is the contrast with evil which allows good to shine. 

Problems arise when man adopts the ways of evil, identifying with them instead of rejecting them. This path is a rejection of God and the image of God within us, as is illustrated by another detail of the Yom Kippur service: Lots were drawn to determine which of the two identical goats will be sacrificed in the Sanctuary and which will be for Azazel. 

The idea of drawing lots is apparently a concession to the "random" element of human existence. And yet this attitude that life is randomly determined, rather than orchestrated by God, is considered evil and associated with the nation of Amalek, whom Israel was commanded to obliterate from the face of the earth. 

Remember what was done to you by Amalek on the way as you left Egypt. When they happened upon you... (Deut. 25:17-18)

Rashi explains "they happened upon you" as "by coincidence." In his brief comment, we can discern the difference between Judaism and the philosophy of Amalek. We believe in a God who is involved in history, while for Amalek life is no more than a series of coincidences. Haman, one of the most famous descendants of Amalek, used lots to determine the best day to attack and destroy the Jews. The Jews, in response, turned to God and put their faith in His involvement in history (and were saved). Similarly, Moses lifted his hands heavenward in prayer while the battle against Amalek raged around him, signaling to the Jews that faith in God is the only ammunition against Amalek.

When the Jew has sinned and has begun to act like Esau, forgetting God Who is constantly involved in history, God invites him to enter the Sanctuary, represented by the High Priest.

The drawing of the lots forces us to examine our behavior and the underlying philosophy of chance or coincidence. The breeding ground for sin is in this forgetfulness. Therefore, on Yom Kippur, nothing can be forgotten, every detail is important.

Every detail is recognition of God's involvement in our lives. The day is filled with awe and fear, a fear which can only spring from the understanding that God is intimately involved in our lives. This fear, in turn, gives birth to the joy which can only spring from the understanding that the same God whom we fear is the God of forgiveness and unlimited love.

The 10 days between Rosh Hashana and Yom Kippur are part of the High Holidays, too. Chickens: read no further. 

The period between Rosh Hashana and Yom Kippur are called the Ten Days of Teshuva (Repentance). 

On Rosh Hashana, the righteous and the wicked receive their judgment. One should not see himself as wicked or be so presumptuous as to consider himself righteous. Therefore we have 10 days to improve and tip the scales to the side of righteousness. Yom Kippur is the culmination of this period.

During the Ten Days of Teshuva, Jews engage in intense introspection for the purpose of self-improvement. We become more scrupulous in the observance of mitzvot.

THE CUSTOM OF KAPAROT

If God ruled the world by strict justice, then every time a person would do something purposely wrong, a giant 100-ton weight would fall from the sky and squash him. Fortunately for us, God also rules by mercy and allows us to gain atonement.

One of the methods of atonement is through the ritual of Kaparot. This is done by taking a chicken, or money, and waving it around your head three times. The chicken is then slaughtered and given to charity (as is the money if used in place of the chicken).

The point of using a chicken is to show us the volatility of life. One minute the chicken is alive the next minute it's not. And if God had ruled by strict justice, our lives might have gone as fast as the chicken's!

This will certainly help a person understand the severity of the Ten Days of Teshuva. 

While swinging the chicken (or money) above your head, say:

"This is my exchange, this is my substitute, this is my atonement. This rooster is going to die (or this money will go to charity), but I am going to a good long life and to peace."

The full text can be found in any siddur or Yom Kippur Machzor.