Hatimah Tovah, Everyone!
Tractate Yoma deals with various technicalities of Yom Kippur, and it is only in its last chapter, Chapter 8, that it turns to some of the deeper heart practices of the holiday. I’ve collected a few stories and famous sayings from this chapter, and I hope they’ll add to your spiritual journey this holiday.
A classic mishnah (cited in b.Yoma 82) tells us that anyone walking into the holiday with the wrong spirit does not receive the benefits. Such wrong approaches are, “I’ll just sin and repent, sin and repent,” or, “I can sin as much as I want and wait for Yom Kippur to cleanse. We must remember also that Yom Kippur is there only to atone for offenses against God; offenses against other humans call for reconciliation. Rabbi Akiva compares God’s forgiveness to the cleansing experience of dipping in the mikveh.
Indeed, Rabbi Yitzhak explains, if you tease someone, you must ask them for forgiveness. But don’t overdo it: you must seek forgiveness three times and then let it go. God might be more forgiving than people: the Gemara observes that, if you ask for forgiveness for teasing, the person might or might forgive you, but God not only forgives you but even forgives the whole world on your behalf.
The chapter continues to share a few forgiveness/reconciliation anecdotes, in which, rather than being lovely role models, the protagonists are revealed as the imperfect people they are, with ego getting in their way.
In one of these ,Rav had a grievance with a certain butcher. The butcher stayed away for the whole twelve months of the year and did not come. When the eve of Yom Kippur arrived and he still hadn’t come, Rav said, “I will go and appease him.” Rav Huna met him and said, “Where is the Master going?” Rav said, “To appease so-and-so.” Rav Huna said, “Whoa! Abba is going to kill a man!” Rav went and called out at the door. The butcher, who was splitting a head, said to him, “Are you Abba? Go, I have no grievance with you.” Just then a bone slipped free, struck the butcher on the head, and killed him.
In another one, which is covered in Yaniv Fraenkel’s awesome book, we have some beit midrash ego/importance issues. Rav was reciting the lesson before Rabbi. R. Hiyya came in, and Rav went back to the beginning (presumably so that R. Hiyya wouldn’t miss anything). Bar Kappara came in, and he went back to the beginning. R. Shimon, Rabbi’s son, came, and he went back to the beginning. Then R. Hanina son of R. Hama came and said to him, “Whoever comes in, do you say ‘back to the beginning’?” R. Hanina then bore a grudge against him. Rav went to him on twelve Yom Kippur eves, and R. Hanina was not appeased.
As Fraenkel mentions in his analysis of this story, it’s unclear how Hanina knew this was going on if he was the last to arrive. Was he told later that Rav went back to the beginning for each and every newcomer except for him? Or maybe the others would’ve been pissed with one more return to the beginning? And why couldn’t these guys get to the beit midrash on time? These are all left unclear. But the gemara itself does ask two questions. First, why did Rav try to appease Hanina twelve times, given that R. Yose bar Hanina said that whoever asks his fellow for forgiveness should not ask more than three times? The answer is that Rav is different. And second, as to Hanina, why did he not let go of his grudge? Here we get a disturbing explanation: apparently, Hanina had dreamed about Rav, that they were hoisting him up on a palm tree. And it was a received tradition that whoever is hoisted on a palm tree will become a head (of the academy). So the answer, apparently, is petty jealousy.
In our next story, humbling oneself gets as real as possible. Rabbi Yirmeya had a grievance against Rabbi Abba. He went and sat at Rabbi Abba’s doorway. The maidservant was spilling out water from a basin—I’m guessing, dirty water or urine from the bedpans—drops of water landed on Yirmeya’s head (yucko!). He said, “they have made me a dunghill!” (this is from Psalms 113:7, “He raises the needy from the dunghills”). Fortunately, Rabbi Abba heard and went out, and said something to the effect of, “now it is I who should ask for forgiveness from you.”
Last, we have Rabbi Zeira, who we already know as a bit of a weirdo. Apparently, if someone was pissed off with him, Rabbi Zeira would parade back and forth in front of that person, repeating his studies in his presence, so that the person would eventually come around and forgive him. Some of the interpretations of this story praise Rabbi Zeira who, like Rav from the beit midrash story, took the initiative to reconcile with others; but to me, repeatedly pestering people to forgive you by being in their face is asking for forgiveness for fairly selfish reasons and in a selfish way, which is in line with Rabbi Zeira’s piety in other Talmudic contexts.
May your own reconciliations with others go well; may you find harmony in your relationships. It’s not too late! Go on, do it now. You’ll feel much better, and so will your family member or friend.