Day of Atonement

I'm eagerly looking forward to this Yom Kippur. Many Christians have thrown out the holy days of Israel all together. I don't think this is a problem, but sometimes I enjoy the appointment days. I've actually never successfully celebrated Yom Kippur. It is the only true fast from the Biblical holy days, though several others have been added to Jewish tradition (the day before Purim: celebrating Esther and some others).
The last time I attempted to celebrate Yom Kippur, I was out on a camping trip, and while walking and thinking (I was in the process of losing a friend, and processing that), I came upon some blackberries and mindlessly ate a whole bunch before realizing I was supposed to be fasting.  I've managed a number of different fasts and find the meditative aspects and discipline of fasting useful for me in my faith. I have not, as yet, successfully celebrated Yom Kippur as a fast.

The day is considered to be the holiest day of the year for the Jewish peoples, although if you ask a Jewish person what the holiest holy day is, they may very well say "the Sabbath". It is the day where the entirety of God's people was atoned for, and was accompanied by much praying as the gravity of sin was upon the nation of Israel. I will not be going to a Synagogue for this (I've actually never been to a Synagogue service, in my recollection. My Jewish relatives are not very devout). I actually let it creep up on me, and didn't even take the day off of work, though I should have. It will also mark the day, I believe, of my 100th post. I think there is a landmark there, a finality.

I think with Yom Kippur, it has always felt like a very heavy holiday. Whereas Yom Teruah (Feast of Trumpets) is a celebratory feast, full of fellowship and fun, and passover, however intense, is my favorite holiday ever, Yom Kippur carries a strain with it, as though a weighty holiday, a dark one. Is that strange? It is the day of atonement? I think, perhaps, it felt like a duty. Like a failure meant that you were not atoned for the year, that you were cursed. It seems like so much more depends on obedience on this day, and there is no accompanying celebration. Perhaps fasts have always carried that somber disposition for me, as they seem... lonely. You can feast with friends, but fasting seems so solitary. Part of this stems from the passage in scripture where Christ says that if you fast, don't broadcast it. This was due, in large part, to the overzealous pride of the Pharisees in their good works. I do not think a collective fast is without merit.

I think this is a finish line, and hopefully a successful one. I've run a race, and though I did not win, did not, in fact, even do well, I'm still going to cross the line with dignity. I was the only one running this invented marathon, and the only one playing this imaginary game. I finished, and even though I know I lost, at least I tried. It was worth the try. I'm not sure what God has in store for me next. I only pray, with faith, God will lead me through unto green pastures beside still waters. Though perhaps I'm more ready for the spiritual warfare analogy right now than the lambs metaphor. My sword is sharpened, my shield lifted on wobbly arms, and I'm girded with truth. No weapon formed against me shall prosper? Sounds like a winning game.