5 Things You Didn't Know About Yom Kippur
Most people know it as a solemn day of self-denial and synagogue services, but there’s so much more to this holy day.
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Yom Kippur, the Day of Atonement, is often described as the holiest day on the Jewish calendar.
For 25 hours, Jews around the world fast, pray, and reflect, seeking forgiveness and renewal. Most people know it as a solemn day of self-denial and synagogue services — but there’s much more to the story. From ancient Temple rituals involving a mysterious scapegoat, to Napoleon’s astonishment at Jewish resilience, to the surprising reason the fast lasts 25 hours instead of 24, Yom Kippur is full of hidden layers of history, symbolism, and drama.
In fact, Yom Kippur has shaped Jewish life for thousands of years not just as a religious obligation, but as a cultural and historical touchstone — a day when Jews have been both most vulnerable and most enduring.
Here are five things you probably didn’t know about Yom Kippur that reveal just how rich, surprising, and inspiring this sacred day truly is.
1) Why Jews Fast
Jewish tradition teaches that on Yom Kippur, the holiest day of the year, people aim to rise above their ordinary human condition and live for a brief time as angels do. Angels, after all, have no physical needs; they exist only to serve God. In this spirit, Jews set aside eating, drinking, and other bodily pleasures for a full day, devoting themselves instead to prayer, reflection, and spiritual renewal. The idea is not to reject the body, but to elevate the soul, reminding oneself that human beings are more than physical creatures; they are spiritual beings with eternal responsibilities.
The Torah itself commands fasting, but rabbinic tradition deepened this by adding four additional restrictions: refraining from bathing or washing, avoiding the wearing of leather shoes, abstaining from marital relations, and setting aside ointments, perfumes, or lotions. Together, these five forms of self-denial create an atmosphere of humility, removing the distractions of comfort and luxury so that the day feels different from all others. Even the simplest acts, like walking barefoot or feeling the pangs of hunger, serve as constant reminders that Yom Kippur is not about the body, but about the soul.
Importantly, this abstinence is not intended as punishment or needless suffering. The fast is a tool, a way to sharpen the mind, clear the heart, and focus all attention on the inner work of repentance. Freed from the routine of meals and daily habits, Jews are given the space to confront themselves honestly, seek forgiveness from others, and stand in vulnerability before God. The hunger of the body becomes a mirror of the hunger of the soul — a longing for renewal, cleansing, and closeness with the Divine.
In this way, Yom Kippur’s self-denial is paradoxically life-affirming. By stepping back from the material for just one day, Jews are able to return to it afterward with a sense of clarity and gratitude. The fast is not about escaping the world, but about pausing long enough to re-enter it with purpose. For one day each year, the community lives like angels, so that for the rest of the year, they can live more fully as human beings.
2) Yom Kippur During the Temple Period
In biblical times, Yom Kippur was unlike any other day of the year. It revolved entirely around the High Priest’s elaborate service in the Jerusalem Temple, a ceremony so dramatic that the entire nation awaited its outcome with bated breath.
The ritual began with sacrifices: a bull offered to atone for the High Priest’s own sins and those of his household, a ram for the people, and two goats chosen by lottery. One of the goats was sacrificed as a sin offering, while the other was designated la’Azazel — the scapegoat.
Over this goat, the High Priest would confess the sins of the entire nation before sending it into the wilderness, symbolically carrying away Israel’s transgressions. This vivid ritual gave the world the very word “scapegoat,” now part of everyday language to describe someone who bears the blame for others.
The most awe-inspiring moment came when the High Priest entered the Holy of Holies, the innermost chamber of the Temple, which was off-limits to everyone else for the entire year. Clad in plain white linen instead of his usual golden vestments, he approached with incense and blood from the sacrifices, praying for forgiveness on behalf of the people.
According to tradition, the suspense was immense — if he had not properly purified himself, he risked dying in the presence of God. Only after he emerged safely did the people breathe a collective sigh of relief, rejoicing that their sins had been atoned for.
Everything changed in 70 CE, when the Second Temple was destroyed by the Romans. With the Temple gone, the High Priest’s central role vanished, and the elaborate rituals ceased. Yet Yom Kippur endured, transformed from a day centered on a single man into a day belonging to the entire people. Fasting, prayer, confession, and repentance replaced sacrifices and scapegoats, shifting the burden of atonement from the High Priest alone to every Jew, no matter where they lived.
In this sense, the destruction of the Temple “democratized” Yom Kippur. What was once the dramatic service of a single priest in Jerusalem became a deeply personal and communal day of reckoning for all Jews. The focus moved from the physical Temple to the synagogue, from the sacrificial altar to the heart. Today, every Jew who stands in prayer on Yom Kippur is in some way reenacting the ancient ritual, stepping into the role of the High Priest — responsible for their own repentance, but also bound to the fate of the community as a whole.
3) Violent Attacks on Yom Kippur
Everyone knows that the 1973 Yom Kippur War erupted when Egypt and Syria launched a surprise attack on Israel on the holiest day of the Jewish year, catching the country off guard while most Israelis were fasting and synagogues were full.
But this was not the first time Yom Kippur had been exploited as a moment of Jewish vulnerability. Again and again across history, enemies chose this day precisely because Jews were physically weakened, spiritually immersed, and gathered together in large numbers. The very holiness that made the day sacred often made it dangerous.
During the chaos of the Russian Civil War in 1919, Cossack bands swept into Jewish neighborhoods in Ukraine on Yom Kippur, massacring hundreds. Pogroms frequently coincided with Jewish holy days, when families were together and unarmed. Yom Kippur, when Jews were fasting and withdrawn from daily life, made for a particularly brutal opportunity. Survivors remembered bloodshed staining the day of atonement, transforming solemn prayers into cries of terror.
In Nazi-occupied Europe, the pattern continued with chilling deliberateness. German forces often staged “aktions” — mass roundups, deportations, or shootings — on major Jewish festivals to deepen the psychological trauma. In ghettos such as Vilna and Warsaw, Yom Kippur became a day not only of fasting and prayer but also of sudden loss, when families were torn apart and communities decimated. The Nazis understood the symbolic cruelty of striking on the day when Jews most hoped for mercy and renewal.
Even further back, in both Christian and Muslim lands, Yom Kippur was sometimes singled out for humiliation or violence. Forced debates between rabbis and priests, expulsions from towns, and mob attacks were deliberately staged to coincide with the High Holidays, amplifying the shame and fear. In 1391, mobs swept through Spain’s Jewish quarters during the season of repentance, killing and converting by force. What should have been a day of solemnity instead became a day of catastrophe.
The recurring pattern is haunting: Yom Kippur, the day when Jews sought to transcend their bodies and draw closest to God, was repeatedly targeted by those who sought to break their spirit. Yet the very survival of Yom Kippur as the centerpiece of Jewish life testifies to an opposite truth — that even in the face of violence, Jews clung to their prayers, their rituals, and their covenant. The day that enemies tried to turn into a symbol of Jewish weakness has endured instead as a symbol of Jewish resilience.
4) Why Yom Kippur Is a 25-Hour Fast
Yom Kippur is famous for its fast, but many don’t realize it’s not a strict 24 hours — it lasts about 25. This tradition comes from the Torah’s command to observe the day “from evening to evening” (Leviticus 23:32). To ensure no one eats too early or too late, the rabbis introduced the practice of tosefet Yom Kippur — “adding to Yom Kippur.” In practice, this means beginning the fast a little before sundown and ending it a little after nightfall, so the boundaries of the sacred day are safeguarded.
The result is a fast of roughly 25 hours. That extra time isn’t just about caution; it carries symbolic weight. By extending the day, Jews show eagerness to hold onto its holiness, as if reluctant to let the moment of atonement slip away. It’s the same instinct seen on Shabbat and festivals, which are also observed a little beyond their technical limits, but Yom Kippur amplifies the practice. On this day, every minute feels heightened — prayers more urgent, intentions more focused.
The final stretch is especially powerful. As the fast nears its conclusion, worshippers enter Neilah, the closing service. Jewish tradition imagines this as the moment when the “gates of heaven” are swinging shut. The added minutes create a sense of dramatic urgency: prayers offered now are the last chance to tip the scales of judgment. Physically, it is the hardest hour of the fast, but spiritually it’s considered the most potent, when people are closest to God.
This extra hour is more than endurance; it’s devotion. The willingness to fast beyond what’s technically required expresses a deep desire to stretch the experience of renewal as long as possible. Yom Kippur is not just endured; it is embraced, even extended, as though the people themselves cannot bear to see the day of forgiveness end.
5) Napoleon’s Yom Kippur Surprise
One of the most striking Yom Kippur stories comes not from Jewish tradition itself, but from European history.
According to legend, Napoleon Bonaparte once passed by a synagogue in Paris on Yom Kippur. Hearing the sound of Jews wailing, he assumed some terrible tragedy had just taken place. Curious, he asked what disaster had befallen them. To his surprise, he was told they were not mourning a recent event at all, but the destruction of the Temple in Jerusalem — a calamity that had taken place nearly two thousand years earlier.
Napoleon was said to be stunned. He remarked that any people capable of remembering and mourning a loss for so long must also be destined to see that loss reversed. His famous words — “A people who can mourn for Jerusalem so long will one day see it rebuilt” — captured a truth about Jewish memory and resilience.
Unlike many nations, which forget and move on after centuries, the Jewish People never let Jerusalem slip into legend or myth. It remained alive in prayers, rituals, and the longing of each generation.
In '73 My Army 8th ID unit in Mainz, Germany was prepared to deploy to Israel because the Soviets were making serious noises about coming to help their Arab proxies and President Nixon had us in US Army Europe prepare to counter the Soviets. Ultimately, the Soviets or Sovs as the Brits called them decided NOT to interfere so we stood down from our loadout. I do remember all the C-5As coming in and out of Rhein-Main AFB in Frankfurt passing over loaded with M60 tanks to replace the IDF losses. The Arabs attacked during this High Holy period and while the IDF losses were heavy they were eventually able to defeat their enemies. Unfortunately, history says Golda Meir had to resign, as a result.
To all the family. May you be sealed…G’mar tov. 🕎