A spirit of forgiveness towards others - such as in the first place, and certainly one of retrospect - is very complex for most of us.
It conflicts with our dignity, with the ego, sometimes with the principles.
Sometimes, "it's time to forgive" is as ridiculous as telling our child "sleep fast".
To forgive requires much more than setting a time.
Need a completely different state of mind than the one we are in most days.
This demand is my first puzzlement.
Yom Kippur is the holiest day of the year.
While the Temple existed, the High Priest was our messenger on this day, carrying the yoke of our sins and asking Him to atone for us, to forgive us.
The climax of the day is the moment when the priest enters the Holy of Holies, before and before, and burns incense.
The priest who does not burn the incense exactly according to the protocol - will die, like the two sons of Aaron.
There is a great wonder here: how can it be that the incense, that ancient air purifier raises smoke, is the essence of the day ?!
And another chilling question arises from the reading of the Mishnah in Tractate Yoma (which deals entirely with the laws of Yom Kippur).
In the description of the High Priest who enters the Holy of Holies, carries the censer in his hand and it raises smoke, the Mishnah navigates for the apostle the route he must take in that holy room, because the smoke does not allow to see clearly: "Walking between them, until he reaches the north. "He walks to his left with the curtain until he reaches the closet.
And everything could have made sense, only this text was written after the Second Temple and refers to the Second Temple, where there is no Ark in the Holy of Holies and no fabrics.
The room is empty.
The Ark was discovered with the Babylonian exiles and never returned.
No other cabinet has ever been built in its place.
And these three perplexities come together in one solution: in order to reach a place of forgiveness, of compassion, of forgiveness, of kindness - you need incense.
We are most of the day, most of the days, in Dean's state of mind.
Of clear good and evil.
Of "he stole my parking," "he overtook me in line."
Of the fast-track to the mistakes and iniquities of others (always others!).
In order to allow room for forgiveness, one must obscure consciousness, the one that creates sharp boundaries between right and wrong, the one that defines sin.
These two consciousnesses are incense - the one that changes the air and the atmosphere (let's tell the truth: the abattoir in the Temple is a place with very little compassion), and obscures the vision, allowing us to imagine that there is a possibility, a possibility for repair, hope for something better, for improvement Self or general.
And we pray that just as it obscures our propensity for judgment, so it does for the consciousness of the Supreme Judge.
As Shuli Rand claims, relying on Exodus 20: "It is time to step into the mist, for her name is G-d."
Because otherwise everything is law.
Because otherwise - the room is empty.
I hope that even on this Yom Kippur God will have her name, in the mist, in a place that does not see exactly all our sins, because we have no chance of getting out of it well;
And may He have mercy on us and send us health, peace and love.
May you be signed and sealed in the book of life.
