Yom Kippur
Before I write some reflections on Yom Kippur, I will list the Torah readings for this week. From here on out I will post the coming week’s readings on Friday and post a reflection on them the following week.
Gen. 6:9-11:32
On the evening of Yom Kippur, I did some thing which I have never done before. I listened to an Orthodox Jewish rabbi give a shiur (teaching) on the parsha (Torah reading.) I stumbled across the video as I was looking for commentary on the reading from Leviticus. I do not remember the rabbi’s name, and I know nothing about him personally, but I was moved by one particular idea which he emphasized - namely the glory and danger of drawing near to the Living God, and God’s reciprocal vulnerability in drawing close to humans.
I did not realize until listening to the shiur that Jews think of Yom Kippur, in its historical context, as a response to the Golden Calf Apostasy. The atonement ritual was a gift given by God to repair Isarel’s relationship with Him. Of course, God knew that the nation would sin again; thus the Day of Atonement was instituted as an annual ritual of repentance and mercy. But that first day of Atonement was a day of great grace - like a husband reaffirming his wedding vows after his wife has been unfaithful.
It seems strange to me that Israel would stray so quickly. Had they forgotten the plagues and pillar of fire and the Egyptians crushed in the waves? Or did it all seem like a dream? The smoking mountain was still within view when they cried out for a new god to lead them, but it had been many days since Moses ascended into darkness. Had their leader been consumed in the fire? Had God taken Moses from them? I imagine that Israel felt lost, perhaps abandoned. They did not yet (or perhaps ever) grasp the fierce love YHWH held for them. It made no sense in their own minds that God should prefer them over the Egyptians; that He would bind Himself to a nation of slaves; that they would carry a covenant destined bring salvation to the world.
Most importantly, they could not comprehend that the the Living God had become vulnerable because of His affections for them. The Almighty loved them as a husband loves a bride. Thus, Israel’s idolatry wounded His heart. I doubt it caught Him by surprise, but it hurt nonetheless. And in His anger, God threatened to wipe out the Israelites and make a nation from Moses.
But Moses interceded and this pleased the Lord. God still send a plague to punish the people, but He relented in mercy. Then He told Moses that He would no longer accompany the nation. It was too dangerous. The people were stiff-necked, prone to provoke Him to anger. Instead of traveling with Israel, YHWH would send an angel to go before them. They would succeed in their battles. The covenant would stand. But God had decided to maintain a distance from His people. He would not be present in their midst.
Upon hearing this, both Moses and the whole nation went into mourning. Moses refused to go without the Lord. The people put off their ornaments and pleaded for God to come with them. Despite the heartache, despite the danger, they knew the glory of God’s presence could not be replaced with an angel. Israel had been undone by hearing the Lord’s voice; and the Lord, likewise, had been given His heart to them.
As I heard the rabbi recount this story, I realized that the Lord continues to make Himself vulnerable - more vulnerable, in fact, than He did with the nation of Israel. He has sent forth His own Spirit to dwell in the tabernacles of human flesh. He lives within those who have been atoned by the blood of His Son!. His glory is within us - and yet we fail to be awed by this truth. We often fail to recognize the holiness of His presence within us.
I remember several Christians I knew as a child - people who awed me with their testimonies of healing and deliverance from drugs, people who had encountered the power of the Holy Spirit. Their witness was crucial in forming my own faith. Yet many of them went on to have extra-marital affairs. Many were embrolied in scandal. Others simply began to live worldly lives and lost their passion for the Lord. I wonder how that must wound the heart of God who made Himself so vulnerable?
At times, I shudder to think how we must provoke the Lord to jealousy! I wonder at His continual outpouring of love. I cannot help but pray for younger generations, that they would see the glory of God in their days - that they would know the wonder of the Holy Spirit filling the temples of their bodies. I long for that gift knowing that some will spurn it to their own harm. Such a prayer makes both parties vulnerable - God and the one who loves Him - and yet, without His presence, how can we go forth?