Mishneh Torah, Rest on the Tenth of Tishrei 3

The Big Question

Imagine stepping into a space where time seems to slow down, and the normal rules of human existence are temporarily suspended. You look around, and instead of the usual hum of daily life—the clinking of coffee cups, the rustle of shopping bags, the scent of expensive perfumes—there is a profound, shared stillness. People are dressed in simple white garments. On their feet, instead of leather boots or polished dress shoes, they wear basic canvas sneakers or soft slippers. For twenty-five hours, they will not eat. They will not drink. They will not wash their skin, apply lotion, or embrace their spouses.

To an outsider, this scene from Yom Kippur—the Day of Atonement—might look like a exercise in self-punishment. It resembles the severe asceticism found in some monastic traditions, where the body is treated as an enemy to be subdued, an obstacle to spiritual purity.

But is that what is actually happening here?

In introductory Judaism, one of the most common stumbling blocks for adults is reconciling the intense physical restrictions of Yom Kippur with the rest of Jewish tradition. Throughout the year, Judaism is a religion that passionately celebrates the physical world. We do not achieve holiness by escaping the earth; we achieve it by elevating the earth. We make blessings over fine wine; we sanctify marital intimacy as a holy act; we are commanded to care for our bodies, to feast on holidays, and to find God in the material reality of our lives.

Why, then, on the tenth day of the Hebrew month of Tishrei, does the Torah command us to "afflict our souls" (Leviticus 16:29)? Why does Maimonides (the great 12th-century philosopher and codifier of Jewish law, known as the Rambam) dedicate an entire section of his legal code, the Mishneh Torah, to the minute details of what we cannot do to our bodies on this day?

This brings us to our big question: Is the self-denial of Yom Kippur about self-loathing, or is it about reclaiming our ultimate human dignity?

To answer this, we have to look past the surface of these restrictions. We must ask why the Sages of the Talmud and codifiers like Maimonides spent centuries debating whether a king may wash his face, whether a person may walk through a rushing river to study Torah, or why some communities light candles while others sit in the dark.

As we dive deep into the legal text of the Mishneh Torah (specifically, Rest on the Tenth of Tishrei, Chapter 3), we will discover that these laws are not a rejection of the body. Rather, they are a profound, empathetic guide to a temporary "angelic state." For one day a year, we are invited to step out of the constant cycle of physical maintenance and consumption. We step into the realm of pure soul, not because the body is bad, but because the soul occasionally needs a quiet space to remember who it is when it isn't busy being fed, washed, and shod.

Let us explore this together, recognizing that every legal detail in Jewish law is a window into a deeper spiritual reality.

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One Core Concept

To understand the laws of Yom Kippur, we must master one core concept: Inuy (Affliction) as Transcendent Recalibration.

In the Hebrew Bible, the physical restrictions of Yom Kippur are referred to as Inuy Nefesh, literally translated as "the affliction of the soul" (Leviticus 23:27). In the Rabbinic tradition, this "affliction" is broken down into five specific abstentions:

1. Eating and drinking
2. Washing or bathing (Rachitzah)
3. Anointing the skin with oils or lotions (Sichah)
4. Wearing leather shoes (Ne'ilat HaSandal)
5. Marital relations (Tashmish HaMitah)

If we think of "affliction" as a form of penance designed to make us suffer, we miss the entire genius of the day. The Sages of the Talmud explain that on Yom Kippur, we are compared to the Malachim—the ministering angels. Angels do not eat, they do not need to wash, they do not wear leather shoes, and they do not reproduce. They are beings of pure, conscious connection to the Divine.

Therefore, Inuy is not about making ourselves miserable; it is about suspending our biological needs to reveal our spiritual essence.

Think of it as a spiritual recalibration. Throughout the year, we are highly dependent on our external shells. We spend vast amounts of time, energy, and money on feeding our bodies, grooming our skin, styling our footwear, and projecting an image to the world. On Yom Kippur, the Torah says: Pause. Let go of the physical maintenance. Discover that even when you strip away the food, the leather shoes, and the cosmetics, you are still fully alive, fully present, and deeply connected to the Divine.

By understanding Inuy as a temporary suspension rather than a permanent rejection of the physical, we can appreciate the exquisite sensitivity of the laws we are about to study.

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Breaking It Down

We will now examine Maimonides’ text in detail, unpacking its legal, psychological, and spiritual layers. We will see how the Rambam balances the absolute holiness of the day with an extraordinary level of empathy for human nature, vulnerability, and dignity.

Mishneh Torah, Rest on the Tenth of Tishrei 3:1
It is forbidden to wash on Yom Kippur, whether using hot or cold water. One may not wash one's entire body [at one time], nor any individual limb. It is even forbidden to immerse one's small finger in water.

The Prohibition of Washing: Pleasure vs. Cleanliness

Maimonides begins with a sweeping prohibition: washing is entirely forbidden on Yom Kippur. To understand the depth of this restriction, we must look at how the Sages arrived at it. The Talmud in Yoma 77a notes that King David, during a time of deep distress, went without washing, which was described as a form of affliction (I Kings 2:26).

But there is a crucial distinction in Jewish law between the restrictions of the Sabbath and those of Yom Kippur. On Shabbat, we are forbidden from heating water to wash, but we may wash with cold water. On Yom Kippur, however, Maimonides emphasizes that washing is forbidden "whether using hot or cold water." He cites a beautiful verse from Proverbs 25:25: "Like cold water on a wearied soul."

Why this verse? Because cold water is immensely refreshing. It brings physical pleasure (Taanug). The goal of Yom Kippur is to refrain from physical indulgence, and because cold water provides a distinct sensory pleasure to a tired body, it is included in the prohibition.

The Rambam is so strict here that he notes, "It is even forbidden to immerse one's small finger in water." This teaches us a fundamental principle of Jewish law (Halacha): when the Sages draw a boundary, they draw it clearly. If we were permitted to wash "just a little bit" for comfort, the human mind would naturally justify washing a bit more, and then a bit more, until the boundary dissolved entirely. By forbidding even the immersion of a pinky finger for pleasure, the law creates a complete psychological break from our daily habit of using water for comfort.

Mishneh Torah, Rest on the Tenth of Tishrei 3:2
A king and a bride may wash their faces: a bride so that she will not appear unattractive to her husband, and a king so that he will appear splendorous, as [Isaiah 33:17] states: "Your eyes shall behold the king in his splendor." Until when is a wife considered to be a "bride"? For thirty days.

The Exceptions: King, Bride, and Human Dignity

Here, Maimonides introduces a fascinating and highly debated leniency. A king and a bride are permitted to wash their faces on Yom Kippur.

To the modern ear, this might sound like elitism. Why should royalty get a pass? And why does a bride get special treatment?

The answer lies in the deep Jewish commitment to human dignity and relationship.

Let's look at the king first. The Rambam quotes Isaiah 33:17: "Your eyes shall behold the king in his splendor." In ancient times, and indeed throughout history, the king was the living symbol of the nation’s dignity, sovereignty, and order. If a king appeared in public looking unwashed, disheveled, and haggard, it was not merely a personal embarrassment; it was a degradation of the entire society he represented. The Sages understood that leadership carries a burden of dignity.

But what about the bride? The text explains: "so that she will not appear unattractive to her husband." The Talmud specifies that a woman is considered a bride for thirty days after her wedding (Ketubot 4a). During this initial month of marriage, the bond of attraction and intimacy is being carefully woven. The Sages, with incredible psychological sensitivity, feared that if a new husband saw his bride looking dirty and unkempt on Yom Kippur, it might introduce a note of distaste or rejection into their nascent relationship.

Think about the revolutionary nature of this law. Yom Kippur is the most awesome, solemn day of the Jewish year. It is the day when our spiritual destinies are sealed. Yet, the Sages were willing to relax a rabbinic restriction on washing simply to protect the emotional connection and mutual attraction between a newly married couple! This tells us that in the hierarchy of Jewish values, preserving love and preventing resentment in a marriage is of cosmic importance.

The Seder Mishnah’s Deep Dive: Why Only the Face?

In his commentary Seder Mishnah, the great rabbinic analyst offers a brilliant question on this passage. The Mishnah in Yoma 73b and Maimonides himself state that the king and the bride may wash their faces. Why only their faces? Why are they not permitted to wash their hands as well? After all, hands are also visible and can become dirty or dry.

The Seder Mishnah answers with a beautiful analogy about clothing and dignity:

"It seems to me, with heaven's help, that hands are forbidden to be washed even for a king and a bride... For regarding the hands, it is not necessary to permit washing under the rubric of 'the king in his splendor' or 'so she will not appear unattractive,' because it is entirely possible for them to cover their hands. They can wear beautiful gloves made of fine silk or embroidered with gold, which actually adds to their splendor and beauty! Thus, their hands are hidden from sight in a dignified way. But the face cannot be covered without hiding their identity and beauty entirely."

This commentary reveals a profound insight into how Jewish law operates. We do not grant blanket exemptions. A leniency is only granted when there is absolutely no other way to preserve dignity. If the king and bride can maintain their splendor by putting on elegant gloves, the law expects them to do so, leaving the strictness of Yom Kippur intact for their hands, while permitting washing only for the face, which must remain uncovered.

The Rabbinic Dispute: Rabbi Eliezer vs. The Sages

The Seder Mishnah also unpacks the historical and textual debate behind this law. This ruling is actually a classic dispute in the Talmud between Rabbi Eliezer and the Sages (Yoma 73b). Rabbi Eliezer permitted the king and the bride to wash, and permitted a woman who had recently given birth (chayah) to wear leather shoes. The Sages, however, forbade all of these.

Why did Maimonides and the Rif (Rabbi Isaac Alfasi) rule in accordance with Rabbi Eliezer, against the majority of the Sages? Usually, Jewish law follows the majority.

The Seder Mishnah explains that when the Talmudic text itself spends significant effort explaining the underlying reasons for Rabbi Eliezer’s view—explaining why a bride needs this leniency and why a king requires splendor—it indicates that the mainstream opinion ultimately accepted his logic.

Furthermore, the Seder Mishnah connects this to a remarkable story in the Jerusalem Talmud (Yerushalmi Sanhedrin 2:6):

"Rabbi Hanina went to visit the Nasi (the prince/leader, Rabbi Yudan). The Nasi came out wearing simple, unadorned linen garments. Rabbi Hanina said to him, 'Go back and put on your royal robes, for it is written: Your eyes shall behold the king in his splendor.' Later, Rabbi Yohanan visited the Nasi and found him in simple linen. He said, 'Go back and put on your woolen robes!'"

The Seder Mishnah notes that Rabbi Hanina and Rabbi Yohanan were not just giving fashion advice. They were enforcing a religious duty. Looking dignified is a mitzvah (commandment) for a leader.

Because looking splendorous is a mitzvah for a king, and looking beautiful is a mitzvah for a bride, their washing on Yom Kippur is not considered "washing for pleasure" (Rachitzah shel Taanug). Rather, it is washing for the sake of a mitzvah (Rachitzah shel Mitzvah). And as we will see, Jewish law consistently permits physical acts on Yom Kippur if they are done for the sake of a commandment or essential health, rather than personal indulgence.

Mishneh Torah, Rest on the Tenth of Tishrei 3:2 (continued)
When a person is soiled with filth or mud, he may wash off the dirt in an ordinary manner without reservation. [Similarly,] a woman may wash one hand in water and give a piece of bread to a child.

Cleanliness vs. Indulgence

Here, Maimonides establishes the vital distinction between pleasure and hygiene. If you walk outside on Yom Kippur and slip in the mud, or if you accidentally get dirt on your hands, you are absolutely permitted to wash it off with water.

Why? Because your intention is not to soothe your body with the cool sensation of water; your intention is simply to remove dirt. In Judaism, physical cleanliness is highly valued. We are not expected to walk around looking or feeling filthy on a holy day.

Similarly, Maimonides rules that a mother (or any caregiver) who needs to feed a child may wash her hand to handle the food. In the ancient world, there was a belief that a spirit of impurity (shibta) rested on the hands after sleep, which could be harmful if transferred to a child's food (Yoma 77b). To protect the child’s health and spiritual purity, washing the hand was permitted.

This teaches us that halacha is deeply pragmatic. It never demands suffering for the sake of suffering. If water is needed for hygiene, health, or childcare, it is permitted. It is only the use of water as a luxury or a sensory escape that we set aside.

Mishneh Torah, Rest on the Tenth of Tishrei 3:3
A person who is ill may wash in an ordinary manner even though he is not dangerously ill...

The Sick Person and the Priority of Life

This is a foundational principle of Jewish law: the preservation of health overrides almost all ritual prohibitions. If a person is ill—even if their life is not in immediate danger—they are permitted to wash on Yom Kippur if it will help them feel better or aid in their recovery.

We see this same compassion in how Maimonides addresses ritual purity (Taharah). In ancient times, when the laws of ritual purity were active, people who were required to immerse in a ritual bath (Mikveh) were permitted to do so on Yom Kippur. However, the Rambam notes that "in the present age," since we are all ritually impure due to the absence of the Ashes of the Red Heifer, we do not immerse on Yom Kippur.

He then addresses a highly sensitive and potentially embarrassing situation: a man who has a nocturnal emission on Yom Kippur.

Mishneh Torah, Rest on the Tenth of Tishrei 3:3 (continued)
...in the present age when a man has a seminal emission on Yom Kippur: If it is still moist, he should wipe it off with a cloth; this is sufficient. If it is dry, or he has become soiled, he may wash the soiled portions of his body and pray...

The Rambam handles this with exquisite delicacy. He does not shame the individual. He recognizes that this is a natural, involuntary bodily function. However, Jewish law dictates that a person cannot stand in prayer before God while physically soiled. Therefore, the Rambam provides a clear, step-by-step guide: if possible, simply wipe it away. If that is not sufficient, wash only the soiled areas so that you can pray with dignity. But do not use this as an excuse to wash your entire body, which would violate the spirit of the day.

This passage is a beautiful example of how halacha balances spiritual idealism with human reality. It meets us exactly where we are, even in our most vulnerable physical moments.

Mishneh Torah, Rest on the Tenth of Tishrei 3:4-6
It is forbidden to sit on mud that is moist... A person should not fill an earthenware container with water and use it to cool himself... It is permitted to cool off [by holding] fruit [against one's flesh]...

The Psychology of Temptation: Cooling Off

In these halachot, Maimonides explores the creative ways humans try to bypass rules, and how the Sages closed those loopholes to protect the integrity of the day.

If you are fasting and hot, you might be tempted to sit on wet mud to cool your body down. The Rambam forbids this if the mud is so wet that it can transfer moisture from one hand to another (a halachic measure known as Tofeach al menat lehatfeach—"wet enough to make something else wet").

Similarly, you might think of filling a porous clay vessel with cold water and holding it against your body. Because clay sweats, the water would seep through and cool your skin. The Rambam forbids this. He even forbids holding a metal container of water, out of fear that some water might spill onto your skin, giving you the pleasure of washing.

But look at the leniency he does allow: "It is permitted to cool off [by holding] fruit."

Why fruit? Because holding a cold apple or melon against your forehead cools you down, but there is no fear that you will end up "washing" yourself with it.

This distinction shows us that the Sages were not trying to make us overheat. They were trying to prevent us from accidentally engaging in washing. They understood human psychology: if you get too close to the water, you will eventually use the water. By redirecting us to fruit, they allow us to find relief without crossing the legal boundary.

Mishneh Torah, Rest on the Tenth of Tishrei 3:7
A person who is going to greet his teacher, his father, or someone who surpasses him in knowledge, and similarly, a person who is going to study in the House of Study, may pass through water that is neck-high without any reservation.

Walking Through Water for a Mitzvah

This is one of the most striking leniencies in the entire chapter. Imagine it is Yom Kippur. You are forbidden from dipping your pinky finger into water for pleasure. Yet, if you need to cross a river to visit your Torah teacher, your father, or to go study in the synagogue, you are permitted to wade through water up to your neck!

How do we reconcile these two laws?

This brings us back to our core concept: intention is everything.

When you wade through a river to perform a mitzvah (honoring a parent, showing respect to a teacher, or studying Torah), your mind is completely focused on the sacred task ahead. You are not thinking, "Ah, how wonderful this cool water feels on my legs!" You are thinking about the destination. Because the act is entirely driven by a mitzvah, it is stripped of its character as a "pleasure."

Even more beautiful is the next line:

Mishneh Torah, Rest on the Tenth of Tishrei 3:7 (continued)
...[Moreover, after] he performs the mitzvah that he intended to perform, he may return to his home via the water. For if we did not allow him to return, he would not go, [and with this restriction, we would] thwart [his observance of] the mitzvah.

The Sages possessed a profound understanding of human nature. They knew that if a person had to cross a river to study Torah, but was told, "You can cross to get there, but you have to stay there all day because you can't cross back," they would simply choose to stay home.

To prevent this "thwarting of the mitzvah," the Sages permitted the return journey as well. This is a powerful lesson in religious leadership: do not create restrictions that are so burdensome that they discourage people from doing good in the first place.

Mishneh Torah, Rest on the Tenth of Tishrei 3:8
It is forbidden to wear a [leather] shoe or a sandal, even on one foot. It is, however, permitted to wear a sandal made of reeds, rushes... similarly, a person may wind cloth over his feet... for his feet remain sensitive to the hardness of the ground and he feels as if he is barefoot.

The Prohibition of Leather Shoes: Grounding and Empathy

Next, Maimonides addresses the prohibition of footwear. In the biblical and rabbinic mind, "shoes" specifically meant leather shoes. Leather was the only material strong and durable enough to completely shield the foot from the terrain.

When you wear high-quality leather shoes, you are insulated from the earth. You can walk over sharp rocks, cold pavement, and rough dirt without feeling a thing. You are, in a sense, a master of your environment.

On Yom Kippur, we divest ourselves of this protection. The Rambam notes that we may wear shoes made of reeds, straw, or cloth, because when you wear these materials, "your feet remain sensitive to the hardness of the ground."

By feeling the hardness of the earth beneath our feet, we achieve a state of physical humility. We remember that we are vulnerable, earthly creatures. We literally "ground" ourselves.

Furthermore, going barefoot or without leather shoes was a sign of mourning and affliction in the ancient world. When King David fled from his rebellious son Absalom, he walked barefoot and wept (II Samuel 15:30). By stepping out of our leather shoes, we step into solidarity with those who suffer, and we stand before God stripped of our pride and armor.

Mishneh Torah, Rest on the Tenth of Tishrei 3:9
Although children are allowed to eat, drink, wash, and anoint themselves, they should be prevented [from wearing] shoes and sandals...

Educating Children with Sensitivity

Maimonides notes that children are exempt from fasting, washing restrictions, and anointing because their growing bodies need nourishment and care. If we forced a young child to fast or go unwashed, it could harm their health.

Yet, the Rambam writes that we do prevent them from wearing leather shoes.

Why this distinction?

Because refraining from eating or washing can make a child sick, but running around in cloth shoes or socks will not harm them. In fact, children often love being barefoot! By keeping them out of leather shoes, we introduce them to the unique atmosphere of Yom Kippur in a way that is safe, healthy, and physically tangible to them. It is a beautiful example of age-appropriate Jewish education (Chinuch).

Mishneh Torah, Rest on the Tenth of Tishrei 3:10
There are communities where it is customary to light a candle on Yom Kippur, so that one will be modest with regard to one's wife and thus not be prompted to engage in sexual relations. There are, by contrast, other communities where it is customary not to light a candle, lest one see one's wife, be attracted to her, and be prompted to engage in sexual relations.

The Mystery of the Candles: Two Paths to Modesty

We now come to one of the most fascinating cultural and psychological discussions in the Mishneh Torah: the question of whether or not to light a candle in the bedroom on Yom Kippur night.

As we noted, marital relations are forbidden on Yom Kippur. The goal of both customs mentioned by the Rambam is exactly the same: to prevent a couple from accidentally violating this prohibition. Yet, they use completely opposite psychological strategies!

• Custom A (To Light): This community lights a candle. Why? Because in Jewish law, marital relations are strictly forbidden in the presence of light. It is considered immodest. Therefore, by keeping a candle burning in the room, the couple is visually reminded that they cannot engage in intimacy. The light acts as a physical barrier.
• Custom B (Not to Light): This community sits in the dark. Why? Because they believe that if there is light, the husband will look at his wife, find her attractive, and be overcome by desire. By keeping the room dark, they eliminate the visual stimulation that leads to temptation.

The Talmud in Pesachim 53b applies a beautiful verse to these two opposing customs: "And your nation are all righteous" (Isaiah 60:21). Both communities are praised because their intentions are entirely pure; they simply understand human psychology differently.

Seder Mishnah’s Liturgical and Halachic Analysis

In his commentary on this section, the Seder Mishnah dives deep into the halachic implications of these candle-lighting customs.

He notes that the Rosh (Rabbi Asher ben Jehiel) and other major authorities ruled that we recite a blessing over the Yom Kippur candles, just as we do on Shabbat, because lighting candles brings Shalom Bayit (peace in the home) and honors the day.

However, the Seder Mishnah points out that Maimonides does not mention a blessing over Yom Kippur candles in his code. Why?

The Seder Mishnah explains that Maimonides views the Shabbat candle as a strict, rabbinic obligation (Chovah) derived from the biblical command to call the Sabbath a "delight" (Isaiah 58:13). Because it is a formal obligation, we recite a blessing over it.

But Yom Kippur is a day of Inuy (affliction), not physical delight. Therefore, the lighting of candles on Yom Kippur is not a formal obligation of "delight," but rather a community custom (Minhag) designed to prevent sin or honor the day. In Maimonides' legal system, we do not recite a blessing over a custom that is not a formal rabbinic obligation.

This distinction shows us how carefully Maimonides categorized Jewish life. He did not let the beauty of a custom blur the lines of formal legal obligation.

The Shabbat Override

But what happens when Yom Kippur falls on the Sabbath?

Mishneh Torah, Rest on the Tenth of Tishrei 3:10 (continued)
If Yom Kippur falls on the Sabbath, it is an obligation to light [a candle incumbent on the members] of all communities. For lighting a candle on the Sabbath is an obligation.

Here we see a classic clash of values. On one hand, we have the community custom not to light candles on Yom Kippur to prevent temptation. On the other hand, we have the absolute, binding obligation to light candles on Shabbat to ensure peace and light in the home.

When these two values collide, the formal obligation of Shabbat wins.

Even if you belong to a community that historically sat in the dark on Yom Kippur night, if that night is also Shabbat, you must light candles. The Sages did not allow a precautionary custom to override a fundamental commandment of Shabbat joy and safety.

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How We Live This

Now that we have explored the rich textual, historical, and philosophical layers of Maimonides' text, let us translate these ancient laws into a practical, modern guide. How does an adult beginner actually live these concepts on Yom Kippur?

1. The Transition: Erev Yom Kippur (The Day Before)

Living Yom Kippur begins long before the sun sets. In Jewish tradition, the day before Yom Kippur is actually considered a holiday in its own right. The Talmud states that anyone who eats and drinks on the ninth of Tishrei is credited as if they fasted for two days (Yoma 81b).

• The Pre-Fast Meal (Seudah Hamafseket): We eat a beautiful, festive meal in the late afternoon. This meal is designed to give us physical strength for the fast, but it is also a psychological transition. We eat with joy, thanking God for the physical world, before we consciously step out of it.
• The Handkerchief Leniency: Maimonides mentioned a fascinating practice: on the day before Yom Kippur, you can soak a handkerchief in water, wring it out slightly, and hide it under your clothes. On Yom Kippur, you can use this cool, damp cloth to wipe your face.
  • Modern Application: While Maimonides permitted this, the Rama (the great Ashkenazic codifier, Rabbi Moses Isserles) noted that in later generations, we stopped doing this. Why? Because of the fear of Sechitah (wringing out water). If you squeeze a wet cloth on a holy day, you violate a forbidden labor of Shabbat. Therefore, today, we generally do not use damp cloths to cool off, choosing instead to fully experience the dry heat of the day.

2. Navigating the Five Afflictions in Modern Life

When Yom Kippur begins, we step into our "angelic" state. Here is how we navigate the practical details:

Washing (Rachitzah)

• The Knuckle Limit: When you wake up on Yom Kippur morning, your hands must be washed to remove the sleep impurity (shibta). However, instead of washing your entire hand, you pour water over your fingers only up to the knuckles (where the fingers meet the palm). This fulfills the hygiene requirement without crossing into the pleasure of washing.
• After the Restroom: Similarly, after using the restroom, you do not wash your entire hand with soap and water for comfort. You wash only the tips of your fingers to ensure cleanliness.
• Getting Dirty: If you are preparing food for your children and get peanut butter or jelly on your hand, do not hesitate! As Maimonides ruled, you are fully permitted to wash that dirt off with water. Just focus the water on the dirty spot, not your whole hand.

Leather Shoes (Ne'ilat HaSandal)

• The Shoe Check: Before Yom Kippur, check your shoes. Many modern running shoes or sneakers look like fabric but contain small strips of real leather on the sides or soles. To be safe, look for shoes that are certified as 100% synthetic, canvas, rubber, or plastic.
• The Aesthetic Shift: Walking into a beautiful, formal synagogue dressed in your finest holiday clothing, but wearing cheap canvas sneakers or bright blue Crocs, is a powerful experience. It immediately levels the playing field. In the eyes of God, there is no wealth or status represented by expensive leather shoes. We all stand equal, simple, and grounded.

Anointing (Sichah)

• No Creams or Perfumes: We do not apply lotion, moisturizer, cologne, perfume, or makeup on Yom Kippur. Your skin may feel dry or tight as the fast progresses. This is part of the experience—learning to accept our physical bodies as they naturally are, without trying to artificially smooth, scent, or beautify them.
• Medical Exception: If you have severe eczema, a painful skin condition, or a wound, you are fully permitted to apply medical creams. As the Rambam wrote, "When a person is sick... he may anoint himself in an ordinary manner."

Marital Relations (Tashmish HaMitah)

• Physical Distance: To prevent accidental intimacy, couples practice a degree of physical distance on Yom Kippur night, avoiding sharing a bed. This temporary pause in physical touch serves to heighten our appreciation for our partners, preparing us to reunite with deeper spiritual and emotional alignment after the holiday.

3. The Ultimate Priority: Caring for the Vulnerable

One of the most important aspects of living Yom Kippur is knowing when not to fast or restrict yourself.

In our text, Maimonides repeatedly emphasizes that the sick, postpartum women, and children are treated with immense leniency. In Jewish law, if a doctor (or the patient themselves) feels that fasting or refraining from washing will endanger their health, it is a mitzvah of the highest order for them to eat, drink, or wash.

The Torah states regarding its commandments: "You shall live by them" (Leviticus 18:5)—to which the Sages add, "and not die by them" (Yoma 85b).

If a person has diabetes, is pregnant with complications, or is struggling with a severe illness, and they insist on fasting because they want to be "pious," they are actually committing a sin. True piety means submitting to God's will. And God's will is that we choose life.

For those who must eat or drink on Yom Kippur for health reasons, they can do so in small, measured quantities (known as Shiurim) to minimize the violation of the fast while fully protecting their health. Even as they eat, their day is holy.

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One Thing to Remember

If you carry only one insight from this deep dive into Maimonides’ laws of Yom Kippur, let it be this:

Yom Kippur is not a day of punishment; it is a day of coronation.

We do not step out of our leather shoes, put away our fine soaps, and close our kitchens because we are bad, dirty, or sinful. We do these things because we are incredibly holy. We are, for twenty-five hours, walking among the angels.

By temporarily suspending our physical maintenance, we prove to ourselves that we are not merely physical beings who happen to have a soul. We are souls who temporarily inhabit a physical body.

When Yom Kippur ends, and we hear the long, piercing blast of the Shofar, we do not return to the physical world with a sense of relief that the "torture" is over. We return with a renewed sense of dignity. We put our leather shoes back on, we wash our faces, and we sit down to eat, realizing that we can now bring the purity, humility, and love of our "angelic self" back into the beautiful, messy, and holy work of daily physical life.