Yom Kippur’s Torah reading presents us with a very puzzling combination: the zenith of lofty heavenly holiness right along with the nadir of the lowest.

The Torah reading (Leviticus chapters 16-18) is basically divided into two sections. The first part deals with the spiritual cleansing and healing of the Day of Atonement, leading up to the rare special moment when the High Priest enters the Temple’s inner sanctum, the "Holy of Holies," to present an incense offering before the Ark of the Covenant.

The level suddenly drops precipitously from there, as the Torah moves on to more earthly matters, warning us against immoral and degenerative behaviors.

“Do not follow the ways of Egypt where you once lived, nor of Canaan, where I bring you,” the Torah states, enumerating a long list of perversions and aberrations, including incest, extramarital relationships, concluding, “Do not perform these detestable perverse acts….Do not defile yourself …Don’t cause the land to disgorge you by defiling it, as it disgorged the people before you.”

Why juxtapose such opposite extremes, the highest of the high with the lowest of the low?

What a drastic change of subject! On the morning of this awe-inspiring day, we rise to the occasion as we read about the purity and sanctity of the Yom Kippur services. But as the holiest day draws to a climax, we are subjected to a long repetitive list of profane and forbidden relationships.

We stand in the Synagogue on the holiest day enveloped in white and purity. We haven't had a morsel of food or any drink for twenty-four hours. On this day we rise beyond the physical to the level of angels, as we attempt to transcend our bodies. Yom Kippur is an island in time, an oasis of transcendence.

Is this what we must hear during these most spiritual moments? Not to commit adultery, incest and bestiality! Should such gross matters even enter our thoughts on Yom Kippur in Shul?!

The Moment After

An answer to this question is alluded to in the name of these readings’ Torah portion, the opening word “Acharei,” which means “after.”

Judaism attaches great significance to a name. Each Torah portion’s name embodies the very soul and inner message of that section. Here, however, the name "After" seems to be only a reference to something that already receded into the past?

It is here that we observe a most meaningful lesson in the Jewish approach to personal purity, morality and spirituality. You may be flying high in heaven; your soul may be ablaze with a sacred fire and your heart may be swelling with inspiration. Yet you must remember that only one day from now, you may find yourself in the muck, tempted by profane and immoral behavior. At this critical moment of inner spiritual quest, you must stock up the resolve and commitment to retain your integrity during your lowliest moments that lie ahead.

By juxtaposing lofty holiness with grotesque evil, the Torah teaches us that no matter how sublime we may feel at a particular moment, we must remember the moment "after," the brute and beastly temptations that may emerge later, under different circumstances. The feelings we have now may not be ours forever. The awesome holiness of Yom Kippur is only real if it will affect the "after," if it will leave its mark on the days that follow with their abominable urges and cravings.

The Torah teaches us that holiness is not reserved only for those extraordinary individuals who transform their hearts into heaven's mirror. As Judaism sees it, it is that very same human being who is capable of engaging in repulsive promiscuity and must be warned against it, yet who can discover the Divine light in the depth of his consciousness, and enter into his own "Holy of Holies."

Ascending the Ladder

This is also the symbolism of Jacob’s Ladder, “A ladder standing on the ground, and its top reaches heaven.” Judaism is not so impressed with a soul that hovers and resides in the heavens. It is far more moved by a grounded human ladder, deeply entrenched in the grit and gravel of earth, yet it still looks up toward heaven. Even when we feel down, low and depressed, remember that we are forever linked with heaven.

Conversely, even when we stand on the highest heaven, we must never forget that part of us is still very earthy. This ensures that when we fall, a little piece of heaven will still remain with us even in the abyss.

Photo Caption: Inside the Bialystocker Synagogue, New York City