A couple of days before Yom Kippur

 A couple of days before Yom Kippur.

If you're Jewish you'll know exactly what's coming next or will be in a couple of days time. For the whole year you've observed the daily rituals of eating, drinking, sleeping and then going about your daily life in the way that you normally lead it. You wake up in the morning, yawning and stretching your arms in gradual stages before proceeding to the bathroom and toilet doing what comes naturally before embarking on the eating and drinking expedition. Now here's the interesting bit. Breakfast for most of course is optional and certainly not compulsory but a cup of coffee or tea accompanied by several slices of toast and jam followed in turn with a bowl of cereal does more than enough to satisfy your ravenous appetite.

But what if somebody told you that you had to go without eating, drinking, watching the TV, listening to the radio or doing anything that might be considered constructive or conducive to your health? You'd tell them that of course this is the most important meal of the day and you wouldn't dream of going without. You would tell them that you can't eat lunch or take several tea breaks during the day nor could you  eat bars of chocolate, contentedly snack on crisps or just polish off several packets of biscuits.

If truth be told Yom Kippur is not a picnic and certainly not metaphorically. In fact Yom Kippur is the day of the yearly Fast which this year begins this forthcoming Sunday evening and eventually finishes at almost 8pm the following Monday evening. No problem, no sweat, a piece of cake also ironically. But then again why? Why does the global Jewish population subject itself to 25 hours of denial, abstinence, discipline, starvation, repentance, physical discomfort and general unpleasantness? There is a sense that we may be experiencing what seems like the most traumatic ordeal that any human can go through. 

There is a feeling here that an air of martyrdom and sacrifice will be hanging over the Jewish population. The implication is that if we go to synagogue( shul) all our sins will be cast into the local lake or pond and everything in the world will be fine and dandy. If we sit in the said shul for the requisite 25 hours bedecked with talit(shawl) and kippa( skull cap) contemplating our gratitude for good health then we'll be cleansed and sanctified, virtuous in the extreme, law abiding and respectable citizens of humanity.

But hold on. Let's consider Yom Kippur in all of its religious beauty. Yom Kippur is essentially all about the intimacy of family life, the close knit harmony of being among our loved ones, singing and chanting those immensely melodious hymns and prayers, the devout worship and the sense that nothing will ever intrude on those special moments of contemplation and reflection. Here we are simply being at one with family and friends while both reminiscing and looking forward to the year ahead.

There are several schools of thinking and learned thoughts from the Torah which answer all of the questions on the subject of Yom Kippur. We devote a wonderfully satisfying day to rejoicing in Judaism. Then again what's the point in just depriving ourselves of the pleasures of the palate when the rest of the Christian, Muslim, Islam, Hinduism, Greek Orthodox and any other denomination simply continues to tuck into three meals a day without a single pang of remorse? Oh questions, questions.

Still, you were told by your lovely, now sadly late and wonderful mum and dad that fasting did no harm at all whatsoever. You were never jeopardising your health and besides it was good for you. Just forget about food, drink, TV, radio or any other activity we blithely take for granted. Just look around the rest of the world and be grateful for who we are and stop thinking about chocolate, chips, crisps, fish and chips, fruit juices, Coca Colas, pizzas, cakes, alcohol and anything else that resembles a cholesterol party. Besides all of that gorging and feasting can't be good for you. Everything in moderation my parents would insist.

So on Sunday evening my wonderful family will once again be converging on Saracens rugby union club for the perennial High Holy Day of Yom Kippur. This is not a day for fripperies or frivolities, no indulgence whatsoever because this is the time for being deeply respectful, serious, solemn, thoughtful with no time for any kind of wit or humour. You may sing to your hearts content but only spiritually. This is 25 hours of self restraint, spartan living, appreciation of the self  and just living our lives in a civilised fashion.

The personal memories of Kol Nidre the night before Yom Kippur are legion. You remember going to your local Kol Nidre service with your wonderful dad with umbrella in one hand and gusts of wind to follow our journey. Suddenly my dad found himself wrestling with the umbrella that seemed to have a mind of its own, blowing vigorously, folding inside out and then just giving up. You simply never forget such glorious moments of family life.

Growing up you were reliably informed that after your Bar mitzvah you would have to Fast every year for the rest of your lives. It was the worst statement you'd ever heard. This was no idle warning but a stern command,  the law of the land, rules and regulations implemented by the great Hebrew scholars, a story told over and over again. Now of course you don't have to fast since if  you've got a long term medical condition which would render any Fast totally forbidden then this is the way it should be.

As a kid you can still hear yourself grumbling your grievances, complaining about the prospect of going without food or drink for 25 hours. But from early adolescence it has become now second nature and if you're well enough on the day of  the Fast there are no objections from yours truly. Going without food and drink for such a remarkably lengthy period of time is now hard wired and conditioned into your soul.

At your childhood local Valentines Park in Ilford, Essex, large groups of families, friends and teenagers would gather outside a cafe, spending the whole afternoon chatting together and exchanging pleasantries. This is supposed to be the one moment of the year when the Jews of the world do penance, casting our transgressions into water but then referring to their grumbling stomachs, headaches and how they'd give anything for a cup of tea. It is ritualistic, traditional and totally understandable.

Meanwhile you'll be settling down at your seat on both Sunday evening and then the whole of Monday and become transported into another world entirely. You will sit with your wonderful family, smiling at rows of the Finchley Reform congregation members, embracing the splendid religious significance and symbolism of  Yom Kippur. It feels as though time will stand still and become suspended for quite a while but then it is only 25 hours after all.

You notice the gorgeous paintings including one depicting a crowd at a rugby union match. Here a father wearing a cap is seen with his son. All around us are uplifting trophy cabinets with the sum total of Saracens glittering trophies. Somewhere there are souvenirs from England's 1966 World Cup Final victory among which is the ball, programme and much else. You pinch yourself for a while and then realise that this is a rugby union club and not a synagogue(shul). There are homages to cricket legends such as Don Bradman and those lasting garlands of victory that sport prides itself on. It is a highly improbable but utterly beautiful setting for a religious service. Fantastic.

So here we are days away from Yom Kippur and the vast magnitude of the occasion will move us deeply because you remember your late and always affectionate parents, the now enduring sadness and mourning that will live in your subconscious, lovely memories from another time of your life. And those emotions will always be uppermost in the minds of all Jewish families. We will shed a tear or two and remember those we have lost but then remember that my lovely wife and I are now grandparents and how proud we are of our family. Well over the Fast everybody.