The Price of Peace: Yom Kippur Reflections in Uncertain Times
There were no sirens in Haifa last night, and so far, the day remains quiet.
This year, the silence of Yom Kippur is different from other years. Usually, at least a few cars can be heard, offending the ears of those who honor the sanctity of this most holy of days. Today, birds’ songs are the accent notes to prayers and songs flowing and rising like precious scent into the air – outward and upward.
Grief for peace
I find myself giving thanks for the peace of this morning and praying for those who had an interrupted night, others who remain shuttered inside in fear, and the countless nameless ones paying the price of our enemy’s hatred in a prison of borders, war, and need.
I look at a photograph of my godson, his pensive face reflected in the mirror of an army truck. Yesterday he was headed for an unknown destination in the north. It is too much for him and these other young men and women to carry. They are called upon to leave behind partners, children, aging parents, siblings, and friends. They are placing their lives on the line while I enjoy this peace of Yom Kippur.
The machinations of war designed by enterprising engineers have also provided amazing defense systems. Defenses on land and in the air aimed at keeping the people of this land safe – not just Jewish people – but all of us – a multicultural diversity of friends and foes who have sought to somehow live together in peace. Until now, for the most part, we have succeeded.
Every day I pray for fewer widows and orphans. But in the north and south, people are dying so that I can live in relative peace. And my nation is undone by the toll: grief for peace.
The price of hatred
I try to imagine what life is like in the camp of our enemy. I can’t comprehend waging a war against others without making sure your own people have some type of shelter or protection. How can it be that here in Israel, a missile lands and the number of dead and wounded is so few, whereas bombs (albeit heavy payloads, but not close to that of a missile) take out whole neighborhoods and devastate hundreds in “enemy” territory?
This hatred has deep roots and is ultimately spiritual. The desire to destroy Israel and the Jewish people is a blind, illogical, unthinking one – the hatred of the fools of Proverbs. Behind the politics and human rights (not to negate the latter or support the former) is a spirit that bombs and missiles cannot destroy. Hatred breeds more hatred – within both the defender and attacker.
The power of love
Last night, during the Chinese Yom Kippur service, I was deeply touched by the prayer of a student. A bit of background: his research field relates to a theoretical topic with only one application in the real world – the development of advanced weaponry or defense technologies. He wasn’t a believer in Jesus when he entered the field and now finds himself deeply conflicted. His prayer last night cried out to God for love to overcome the cycle of destruction, and for the Lord to open men’s hearts to see that love is the only power strong enough to defeat our enemy.
My heart joins with his heart in that cry, “O Lord, how long before all mankind finally bows before you and realizes that love is the only way?” As much as I long for the soon return of Jesus, over and over, I am reminded of the passage in 2 Peter…
“Dear friends, don’t let this one thing escape you: With the Lord one day is like a thousand years, and a thousand years like one day. The Lord does not delay His promise, as some understand delay, but is patient with you, not wanting any to perish but all to come to repentance.”
2 Peter 3:8-9 HCSB
I am in awe of God’s love. The tension with which He maintains righteousness and justice with love and mercy is beyond our comprehension. I don’t come close to appreciating the depths of His love expressed through the atoning and purifying work of Jesus on the cross. God Himself paying the price for the wickedness of all humanity in all time? Is it even possible? I know it is, because He did it through Jesus. But I do understand the Jewish perspective that views this as impossible. From a human perspective, it is.
Jesus – Yeshua – Scapegoat and Sacrifice
All the above thoughts converge in my consideration this year of Yom Kippur – the Day of Atonement. I am more thankful than ever for my Lord, my Savior, and my God. I ponder the meaning of this day and the special requirements of that day: both a scapegoat and a sacrifice. Of all the appointed times of the Lord, only Yom Kippur has this requirement. Why?
Rabbi Lord Jonathan Sacks points out that the aim of Yom Kippur was not just atonement (via the sacrifice) but purification (via the scapegoat) – cleansing of the character of those who sin. (You can read his thought-provoking article on the AISH website.)
He didn’t mean to, but in his explanation, he provides a beautiful perspective of just exactly what Jesus did for us through His blood shed for us on the cross. He brought us both atonement and purification. When we accept that final sacrifice, once and for all, we finally experience true peace. God’s love enters our hearts and we learn from Him how to love others as He has loved us.
In a strange way, God’s love is evident through this conflict. I know this because judgment has not yet come, and His love powers my prayers for my enemies and for my nation.
About the Featured Photo (not viewable via email notifications)
A friend of mine took this picture of the missiles flying over Haifa last week. As I looked at it, I thought, this looks like a Star of David that is morphing into a dove, which is dragging the missiles and danger away! I shared these thoughts with a friend and she did some “kish kush”. The original and edited photos are shown below. In a way, this photo symbolizes the hope I have in God’s love for His own and all peoples during this war.
