“HOLINESS”

A few weeks ago, we read in the Torah "You shall be holy for I, the Lord your God, am holy." It is a passage we read twice a year - once during the regular cycle of the Torah readings, and again on the afternoon of Yom Kippur. This portion, known as "K'doshim" is often referred to as the Holiness Code. Although I've heard these words many times, this time it started me thinking about the dichotomy and challenges of holiness.

The Hebrew word for holy, "kadosh," carries with it the implication of separation. Something that is holy is special and set aside from common use. When we say a short blessing before consuming food, we are not sanctifying what we are about to eat, but actually de-sanctifying it. We are acknowledging that the food is a sacred gift from God, and we say the blessing to bring it from its holy state to a common one so that we may consume it. For similar reasons, we are taught not to touch the parchment of the Torah scroll. The parchment is holy and by touching it, that holiness would be transferred to us - and the separateness that that would confer upon us would make it impossible for us to go about the ordinary work of our lives.

Another type of separation comes on Saturday evening. The ritual of Havdalah helps us separate "bein kodesh l'chol" - between the sacred and the ordinary: separating the holy Sabbath day of rest from the ordinary work days of the week. Yet part of the Havdalah ceremony is to smell the fragrant spices. The sense of smell carries with it the strongest memories; the memory of the lingering aroma helps us carry over the holiness of Shabbat into the week. In fact, Jewish ritual tells us that our task is to bring holiness into the ordinary moments of our lives.

Judaism has a blessing for many events which we may consider routine or which might go unnoticed. We say blessings after meals to remind ourselves that this common but life-giving act should not go unappreciated. When we are sick, we lament the fact that our bodies aren't functioning normally. But how often do we remember to be thankful for our health when we wake up in the morning feeling good? The morning service contains a prayer of thanksgiving that our internal plumbing still works - a reminder that the blessing of health can never be taken for granted. There are blessings to say when we see the ocean or a rainbow, for we are surrounded by the wonders of God's creation every day, if we would only open our eyes and minds and hearts to the world around us.

We sometimes get so preoccupied with the hectic pace of our lives that we miss opportunities for creating holiness. This was not the case with a bar mitzvah student of mine. He and his mother had a fairly long drive to the Temple each week for his lessons. For many families, getting the children to their many weekly activities becomes a challenging and burdensome set of logistics. But for this mother and son, it was an opportunity for sharing and bonding - a holy time in a routine day.

As I thought more and more about this challenge of infusing the ordinary with holiness, I became very discouraged. Like most of you, my life is so hectic that, more often than not, I find it difficult to remember to focus on that which is holy. But as I re-read the words of the Torah, I found hope. For God doesn't tell the Israelites that they are holy, but that they shall be holy. For us, holiness is a process of becoming.

In the story of creation, God declares the world and all its creatures "good." Even humans, created in God's own image, are only deemed "very good." It is only a moment in time, the Sabbath Day, that God declares "holy." But being created in God's image, each of us has a spark of the divine within us. When we strive to work for the best that is in us, we nurture that spark so that it might burn steadily, illuminating the ordinary world around us with the light of holiness.

May each of us set aside the time to nurture the holiness that lies hidden in all the ordinary moments of our lives. And may we become holy as the Lord, our God, is holy.

B’shalom,
Andrew Bernard
Cantor