Yom Kippur 5787 (Yiddish) "And he would make it a Yom Tov upon his safe departure from the Holy" - the Kohen Gadol and his home

00:00 One of the stories the Rebbe told several times is about something that happened with the Alter Rebbe. Once, on Yom Kippur, the Alter Rebbe was in the middle of davening with great dveikus. The Alter Rebbe always davened with dveikus, all the more so on Yom Kippur. The entire congregation was davening. Suddenly, the Alter Rebbe took his tallis and left. No one knew where he had gone. Only afterward did they learn that in Liozna, the town where the Alter Rebbe lived at the time, a woman lived alone in an outlying house at the edge of town. She had just given birth, and no one was at home—whether because everyone had gone to shul or because, perhaps, she lived alone without any family. Either way, she was a woman who had just given birth. The Alter Rebbe arrived and saw that she needed food. The Alter Rebbe himself, on Yom Kippur, the holy day, chopped wood and cooked a dish, a soup, so she would have something to eat. Then he returned to shul to finish davening. And as related elsewhere, in the Reshimos, in a diary, which the Rebbe

01:37 had recounted many years earlier, people asked at the time—the story was already known then—and some who were not chassidim began asking why he had done it. The Alter Rebbe said that according to the laws of the Shulchan Aruch, when a life is at risk, saving that life overrides Shabbos, Yom Tov, and every other consideration; and as the wording goes, “It is a mitzvah for the greatest person to do it.” Since he could not find anyone greater, he did it himself. That is the story. As the Rebbe related several times, including in his first maamar, when he accepted the leadership on Yud Shvat 5711, the Rebbe told this story in the maamar Basi Legani 5711. He told it in the course of explaining that to bring the Geulah, we must transform the acacia wood—the folly of the opposing side—into holy folly. This is emphasized because, to make the world a dwelling place for Hashem, to make the world a Beis Hamikdash, the Mishkan was built of acacia wood, atzei shittim. In our service of Hashem, “shittim” is connected with “shtus,” folly, and the folly of the opposing side must be transformed into holy folly. Holy folly means that every aspect of serving Hashem must have an element of going beyond reason and understanding. On this, the Rebbe

03:09 remarks that we find Ahavas Yisroel among our Rebbeim: through their conduct, they showed that Ahavas Yisroel was, for them, a matter of holy folly, beyond reason and understanding. One of the stories—the first story the Rebbe cites—is of the Alter Rebbe himself leaving in the middle of davening, setting everything aside, and going to help a Jew who needed something, in a matter of saving a life. As the Rebbe discusses in one of the sichos, the Tzemach Tzedek said [unclear] about the Alter Rebbe that all the dveikus the Alter Rebbe experienced—his service of Hashem was with mesirus nefesh, without any limits. As is known, the Alter Rebbe’s davening and dveikus—if that was how he davened on an ordinary day, all the more so on Shabbos, and still more on Yom Kippur—were filled with boundless dveikus and love. As is known, when the Alter Rebbe was in a state of dveikus, he would say, “Whom have I in heaven? And besides You I desire nothing.” I do not want Your Gan Eden; I do not want Your World to Come; I want nothing but You Yourself.

04:33 Such was his dveikus and love for Hakadosh Boruch Hu, with such intensity in his soul, that he expressed it in these words: “I want nothing; I want only You Yourself.” In other words, this was love at its greatest, to the point of pouring out his soul, his soul yearning to expire, without any limits. The Tzemach Tzedek said that all the love, mesirus nefesh, and dveikus he experienced did not compare to the mesirus nefesh it took for him to tear himself away from that love, from “besides You I desire nothing,” to leave behind all those spiritual heights and that dveikus, and come down to do a simple Jew a favor with a physical need. After all, Yom Kippur is the holiest day of the year. Yom Kippur is the time of the yechidah of the soul. This is especially so as explained in Chassidus, in the Alter Rebbe’s maamarim, that the service of Yom Kippur is a time when the yechidah of the soul is revealed. As is known, [unclear] repeated a teaching he had heard from the Alter Rebbe while he was still in [unclear]. That is, before Petersburg, in the Alter Rebbe’s early years, when he would deliver short teachings, short maamarim. The Alter Rebbe spoke then about what the Gemara says in tractate Rosh Hashanah: “Who is like Hashem our G-d whenever we call to Him?” In one place this is said to refer to communal prayer, while elsewhere it says of an individual’s prayer:

05:59 “Seek Hashem when He is to be found; call to Him when He is near.” And the Gemara there, in Rosh Hashanah, says, “Here it speaks of an individual; here, of a community.” Throughout the year, Hashem is with us “whenever we call to Him,” and a community is needed. During the Ten Days of Teshuvah, “Seek Hashem when He is to be found; call to Him when He is near”—“here it speaks of an individual”: an individual’s prayer can accomplish what requires a community throughout the rest of the year. The Alter Rebbe then asked: What does “here it speaks of an individual; here, of a community” mean? Throughout the year, the service of davening is a matter of a community. A community means ten; this refers to the ten faculties of the soul. Throughout the year, we serve Hashem with the ten faculties of the soul: intellect, emotions, contemplation, love of Hashem, and awe of Hashem. But when the Ten Days of Teshuvah arrive, “here it speaks of an individual,” which the Alter Rebbe explains as referring to the “yechidah.” In other words, during the Ten Days of Teshuvah, the service is with the yechidah of the soul. This is a whole different kind of service: revealing the yechidah of the soul and serving Hashem with it. This is dveikus in its fullest sense, unity in its fullest sense, the innermost heart—“My heart says to You, ‘Seek My face.’” As the Alter Rebbe explains, the innermost heart means that its entire desire is devoted to Hashem, without any limits. That is the service of the Ten Days of Teshuvah. How much more so on Yom Kippur, when this is even more pronounced, as Chassidus explains concerning

07:22 “the day on which five prayers are required”: the five prayers correspond to the five levels—nefesh, ruach, neshamah, chayah, and yechidah. On Yom Kippur there are five prayers, the fifth corresponding to the yechidah. Throughout the day, and especially during Ne’ilah, it is a time when the yechidah is revealed. And yet we are told that the whole point of all the service of Yom Kippur is to tear ourselves away from it and come down here to do a simple Jew a favor with a physical need. I remember being with the Rebbe as a child in 5742. I was a young boy then, not yet bar mitzvah. My father took me to the Rebbe for the month of Tishrei, Tishrei 5742, and I was there with the Rebbe as a child. Yes, I remember various events and things that happened. One thing I remember: on Yom Kippur that year, 5742, the Rebbe came in very late for the morning Shacharis service. He came in very late, and the congregation found it very strange. We know that the Rebbe was generally very precise and particular about davening times. So even I, as a small child, knew that the Rebbe came in at exactly the appointed minute for Shacharis or Minchah. The Rebbe’s arrival for davening was always timed very precisely, whether on weekdays, Shabbos, or Yom Tov. But that Yom Kippur, the Rebbe came in late for davening.

08:50 As a child, I did not understand what had happened. The congregation stood there waiting and waiting, and the Rebbe did not begin davening. Only afterward did we learn that there had been especially intense crowding in the women’s section at the time. People were pushing, and there had even been an argument there, or some other disturbance. One of the girls had apparently fainted, or something had happened to her. Hatzalah personnel had to attend to one of the women affected, take her to the hospital, and see what needed to be done. When the Rebbe heard about it, before davening, as soon as the news reached him, he said he would not come in to daven until he knew in detail what was happening with the girl and what her medical condition was. He also wanted the two girls involved, who were friends, to have one ask the other’s forgiveness. Only after all of that did the Rebbe come in to daven. Only when word reached the Rebbe that all these matters had been settled peacefully did he come in. As a child, that story was etched in my memory. You could see it clearly in the Rebbe: precisely on Yom Kippur, the holy day, when he needed to go and daven, and so on.

10:10 But the Rebbe cared about the condition and well-being of one Jewish girl. He wanted to make sure there had been forgiveness, pardon, and atonement in every respect. Only then did he go to pray for all the Jewish people. I remember a sicha of the Rebbe from about forty years ago. The Rebbe spoke about something interesting we find concerning Yom Kippur. It appears in the Rambam, based on the Mishnah—but the Rambam brings it as halachah. In his Laws of the Yom Kippur Service, the Rambam lists all the details of the laws of Yom Kippur and everything done during the ten days. He details everything concerning the Kohen Gadol: how, seven days before Yom Kippur, they would separate him from his home; and after describing all the preparations and the service on Yom Kippur itself, the Rambam goes on at length, explaining every detail of the Kohen Gadol’s service. Then, at the end of it all, the Rambam concludes with what happened afterward, on the night following Yom Kippur: he put on his ordinary clothes and “went home.” The entire congregation, “all the people,” accompanied him. They went with him in great joy. “And he would make a Yom Tov because he had emerged safely from the holy place.” That is what

11:44 the Rambam writes in the Laws of Yom Kippur. The source of the Rambam’s words is the Gemara, and the Gemara in Yoma gives all the details. But the question the Rebbe asked at that farbrengen was: The Rambam is not a book of stories. The Gemara contains Midrash, exposition, stories, and Aggadah. But the Rambam is a halachic authority, and these are the laws of Yom Kippur. Why, at the end of those laws, does he tell us that the Kohen Gadol returned home? It is not just that the Gemara recounts what happened. The fact that he went home seems like a technical detail; surely we understand that he did. What place does it have in the laws of Yom Kippur? In particular, the Gemara says “went home,” and the Rambam is precise in saying that he returned home. And “he would make a Yom Tov because he had emerged safely from the holy place”—what is the significance of that? What halachah does it teach? Looking at the commentators, we find several explanations for the Yom Tov the Kohen Gadol made, including explanations from the Chida and earlier authorities. But broadly speaking, there are two reasons for this joy, for his “making a Yom Tov.” Why did the Kohen Gadol

13:15 make it? One reason is that the Kohen Gadol’s entry into the Holy of Holies on Yom Kippur involved danger. Every year there was great concern about whether he would enter and emerge safely. We know that, particularly in the Second Beis Hamikdash, some Kohanim Gedolim, may Hashem protect us, did not come out alive. It was a real danger. He had to be on an exceptionally high level and be pure, without any improper thoughts and so on, to enter the Holy of Holies and emerge safely. That is what the Gemara in Yoma relates. So every year there was tremendous trembling and tension: what would happen? Would the Kohen Gadol come out safely? According to this version, that is the meaning of “because he had emerged safely from the holy place.” The very fact that he came out safely, healthy and unscathed, was itself cause for joy. Thank Hashem, the Kohen Gadol had made it through; he was a Kohen Gadol who could enter and leave safely. The second reason is very simple: “And he would make a Yom Tov upon emerging safely from the holy place.” The joy was over the fact that they had succeeded in completing the entire Yom Kippur service. They were confident that Hakadosh Boruch Hu had accepted the prayers, and that “before Hashem,” Hakadosh Boruch Hu had atoned for our sins, and

14:44 for that itself they made a Yom Tov, thanking Hakadosh Boruch Hu for His kindness, wonders, and mercy. The fact that He atones for all our sins is itself cause for joy. The Rebbe points out that perhaps this is the difference between the two versions in the Gemara: “he would make a Yom Tov upon emerging safely from the holy place,” or “because he had emerged safely from the holy place.” If we say “because he had emerged safely,” it means the joy was over the very fact that he had come out unharmed and had not, may Hashem protect us, been hurt by the danger. “Upon emerging,” on the other hand, refers to the whole Yom Kippur service, and the joy that he had been able to complete it safely. In any case, those are the two reasons. But when the Rambam says that he returned home and then adds, “he would make a Yom Tov upon emerging safely from the holy place,” we need to understand what he means. In particular, why does he add that the Kohen Gadol returned home? What is the point of these details, which seemingly are not matters of halachah? The Rebbe points out that this is actually a very important halachah, directly relevant to the laws of Yom Kippur. Why? In Yoma, based on the verses in Parshas Acharei that we read on Yom Kippur, we find that the Kohen Gadol had to be married. There is a law that “they arrange a wife for him,” along with all the related laws: a Kohen Gadol must be married,

16:23 he must have a wife. And this is not merely a requirement for performing the service. Why? Because when the Kohen Gadol prayed and recited the confession, the offering he brought, the sin-offering goat for himself, was for him and his household. “His household—this means his wife.” His atonement had to include himself and his household, his family. “His household—this means his wife.” In other words, first and foremost the Kohen Gadol must be a private individual, and as a private individual he must be “a man and his household.” Only afterward can he be the representative of the congregation and recite the confession for all the Jewish people, in the prescribed order. First came the service for himself and his wife, his household. Only then did it come for all his brethren, the entire family of Kohanim. And only after that came the service for all the Jewish people, in which he prayed and recited the confession for them as well. The point is that on Yom Kippur we emphasize that the Kohen Gadol must be a private individual, and as a private individual he must be a complete person, not just himself alone. As the expression goes, on his own he is half a person. To be complete, he needs to be “a man and his household,” and he must include “a man and his household” in his confession, his prayer, and his atonement. That is the central point emphasized by separating the Kohen Gadol from his wife and home seven days before Yom Kippur. In other words, on Yom Kippur the Torah emphasizes—

17:53 his home. The Kohen Gadol begins with himself, his home, and his immediate surroundings. From there he goes out to represent the congregation and pray for all the Jewish people. Therefore, when the service ends, the halachah says—and this is the halachah in the Rambam—that he returned home. For the entire foundation of the Kohen Gadol’s service begins with his home. So when the service reaches its culmination, when he has finished and completed everything, he must immediately return home. As soon as he finishes the service, he returns home, emphasizing that only now, upon returning home, has he completed it fully. Why is it so important on Yom Kippur to emphasize his home: that he needs to have a home, that he leaves his home, that “they separate him from his home,” and that during the service itself the main point is “his household—this means his wife”? Throughout Yom Kippur he must remain connected to his home, and the atonement must be for his household. And when the service ends—he returns home. The reason for this, first of all, on the level of the plain halachic meaning, as the Rebbe explained, is that the atonement of Yom Kippur is not only for the Jewish people as a whole, but for every individual Jew. That is what is distinctive about Yom Kippur: it is “a time of teshuvah and atonement for all.” On Yom Kippur, every Jew has the power to obtain atonement for his own personal matters. And as

19:33 There is a well-known saying attributed to the Baal Shem Tov: the difference between Rosh Hashanah and Yom Kippur is that Rosh Hashanah is general teshuvah, while Yom Kippur is individual teshuvah. That is why we say all the confessions, with all their details. In other words, the purpose of Yom Kippur is for the atonement to reach each and every person, every detail of their lives, down to daily life. Therefore, the Kohen Gadol, who is the representative of the community, must make this central to his own service as well. Although the Kohen Gadol is a public figure who must carry all of the Jewish people with him, he has to remember the individual. There is your family and there are your own concerns, and that is where everything begins. So the Kohen Gadol himself has his home, and that is where he starts: first comes his home, his personal concerns, himself as an individual, and he atones for that. As is known, halachah requires that the offerings come from his own money; it is all personal. Only afterward can he serve as the community’s representative and bring about atonement for all the Jewish people, and for each Jew individually. That is why the Rambam says in Hilchos Teshuvah that when Yom Kippur arrives, the Kohen Gadol also represents the community, and through his confession he brings about atonement for all the Jewish people. But the Rambam also rules that every individual must do teshuvah. As he famously puts it, “The day itself atones”—but “for those who repent.” In other words, there must be a movement of personal teshuvah so that the atonement, the general teshuvah of Yom Kippur, has an effect on each person. Therefore, the Kohen Gadol himself must be aware

21:18 that his home is part of that teshuvah. And so, when he returns home and all the people go with him—“all the people escort him to his home”—and he makes a Yom Tov celebration at home, it demonstrates this point: the goal of all the service of Yom Kippur is for teshuvah to affect a person’s personal concerns, home, and private life. This leads to the explanation the Rebbe gave based on Chassidus. As is known, Chassidus explains that the whole purpose of serving Hashem with self-sacrifice and devotion, and of the loftiest aspects of that service, is for them to be brought down afterward into the particulars of daily life. Here we come to the explanation of what our Sages say about Rabbi Akiva. Rabbi Akiva is connected with Yom Kippur in what follows. As is known from the Gemara, Rabbi Akiva is connected with Yom Kippur. His passing was on Yom Kippur or on the eve of Yom Kippur, as brought in the Midrashim. And when we come to Rabbi Akiva, what does the Gemara say? What do our Sages say? As is known, “Four entered the Pardes.” Four Tannaim entered the Pardes, into the inner dimensions of Torah, its secrets and its lofty matters, and each underwent what he underwent. But of Rabbi Akiva the Gemara says, “He entered in peace and departed in peace.” He entered in peace and departed in peace. That is, he entered the Pardes, the deepest secrets of Torah, the garden of Torah’s inner dimension, and he entered in peace and departed in peace. When he came out, he did so in peace and whole. And it is very interesting—the wording is truly precise. The phrase “he entered in peace and departed in peace” closely resembles “He would make a Yom Tov celebration upon emerging in peace from the holy place.” It is very much like the words of our Sages. Chassidus explains what was distinctive about Rabbi Akiva. After all, our Sages specifically say “he entered in peace”—but as for entering, they all entered the same place. What was distinctive was that he departed in peace. What does “he entered in peace” mean? The explanation is: no, the reason Rabbi Akiva departed in peace is that he entered

23:41 in peace. That means the other three, his companions who entered the Pardes, did not enter in peace. In other words, they entered and were devastated. From the outset, they entered in a manner [unclear] that led to their downfall. Terrible consequences followed, as the Gemara recounts there. With Rabbi Akiva, his purpose in entering from the very beginning was peace. That is, when he entered the inner dimensions of Torah, the Pardes, its deepest matters, he knew from the outset that the ultimate purpose was not to remain within his own four cubits and soar away from the world. He knew that the Torah was meant to bring peace. The purpose of entering that garden, the Pardes of Torah’s inner dimension, was afterward to bring those teachings down into the world and make the world a dwelling place for Hashem. And so, because he not only entered in peace but entered with that intention—not to flee the world, because he knew there was a deeper purpose, that afterward he had to take what he had gained and bring it down into the world—he also departed in peace. Rabbi Akiva was then able to come back down into the world, and after all, “the whole world follows Rabbi Akiva’s view,” and to reveal the Mishnayos, the Oral Torah, as the Gemara says about Rabbi Akiva. The same applies to the service of the Kohen Gadol: “He would make a Yom Tov celebration upon emerging in peace from the holy place.” Returning home is not incidental. It is itself the culmination of the service of Yom Kippur. And the Rebbe explains what is brought in the Gemara [unclear]. What does the service of Yom Kippur tell us? Yom Kippur is a day of closeness to Hashem, a day of fasting, a day when a Jew

25:14 sits in shul all day, completely detached from worldly matters, ascending from one level to the next, higher and higher, until reaching Ne’ilah, when the yechidah of the soul is revealed and he calls out “Hear, O Israel” along with the verses declaring Hashem’s oneness. He is told that the purpose of all this is to bring it all down below. “He would make a Yom Tov celebration upon emerging in peace from the holy place”—coming down from the holy place is the purpose. To bring all the holiness of Yom Kippur into worldly life, into the world, into “his home—meaning his wife,” into the home, into peace in the home, into daily life; so that even at home, amid physical concerns, it is evident that “Hashem is G-d.” As the Frierdiker Rebbe explains in maamarim for Yom Kippur, we say “Hashem is G-d” seven times: Elokim has the same numerical value as hateva, “nature,” and the seven repetitions correspond to the seven days of creation, the seven days of the week, so that on every day of the week it will be evident that “Hashem is G-d,” that nature itself is above nature. Bringing G-dliness into daily life—that is the ultimate fulfillment of the service of Yom Kippur. All that fervor, those levels of inspiration and closeness to Hashem, the fervor of “with all your might,” and the yechidah of the soul that shines on Yom Kippur must afterward be brought into nature; not to shrink back from physical concerns, but to seek out a Jew who needs help, as it says

26:36 in the haftarah of Yom Kippur: “Surely you should share your bread with the hungry and bring the poor and homeless into your home.” Give him clothing, give him tzitzis, give him tefillin, give him food, give him bread, and so on. And as the haftarah continues, “Then your light will break forth like the dawn”—then Hakadosh Boruch Hu will illuminate the souls, illuminate the world, and we will indeed merit, as we say in the Yom Kippur prayers after all the service, “Next year in Jerusalem”: may we merit to see the service of the Kohen Gadol in the Beis Hamikdash again, in its fullest perfection, and “He would make a Yom Tov celebration upon emerging in peace from the holy place”; may we merit to see the entire world become a dwelling place for Hashem. May it indeed be a radiant Yom Kippur, a bright and joyful year, and a year of Geulah and salvation for all the Jewish people.