What is the "holiness" that the Torah demands of us?

The opening verses of yesterday’s Torah reading contain a commandment to “be holy” – a fundamental religious concept whose nature is extremely difficult to define. Holiness tends to conjure up images of detached and other-worldly men with white beards performing spiritual meditations and acts of intense piety. But how true is this of the Torah’s idea of holiness?

In his commentary to this passage, Rashi highlights a negative dimension of holiness: “in every place one finds a barrier against immorality one finds holiness”. Also noteworthy in this context is Rambam’s theory that Biblical Hebrew is referred to as Lashon Hakodesh (the holy language) specifically because it contains no explicit terms for sexual practices or organs.

A more positive depiction of holiness emerges from the writing of Ramban who instructs: “Sanctify yourself in what is permitted for you”. For Ramban holiness implies moderation – and requires a person to avoid excesses even when enjoying pleasures which are not subject to a prohibition.

Building upon these explanations, Rabbi S. R. Hirsch offers a profound analysis of what the concept of Kedusha - holiness truly represents within Judaism.

“Kedusha is attained through mastery over all of one’s powers and faculties and over all the temptation and inclinations associated with them – to be ready to do God’s Will.

Self-mastery is the highest art a man can practice. Self-mastery does not mean neglecting, stunting, killing or destroying of one’s powers or faculties. In and of themselves, the powers and faculties – from the most spiritual to the most sensual – that have been given to man are neither good nor bad…The Torah sets for each of them a positive purpose and negative limits. In the service of that purpose and within those limits, all is holy and good. But where a person strays from that purpose and exceeds those limits, coarseness and evil begin.”

Such holiness is not easily attained, however, and this is where some degree of abstention from physical pleasures may be in order.

“As in any other art, virtuosity in this, the highest moral art can be attained only through practice – training one’s moral willpower to master the inclinations of the heart. But this training is not to be undertaken in the realm of the expressly forbidden, where any slip would result in wrongdoing. Rather, moral resolve must be tested and strengthened in the realm of the permitted.”

To give one example, it would not be wise to test one’s resolve by arranging a delicious-smelling non-kosher feast for a time when one will be ravenous. A more advisable method to train oneself in self-control would be, for example, to leave the final mouthful over from one’s favourite food, or to forgo that final piece of pizza that one doesn’t really need – but would normally crave all the same! In this way, concludes R’ Hirsch, by learning to overcome inclinations that are permitted but related to the forbidden, “one gains the power of self-mastery and thus makes all his powers and faculties subservient to the fulfilment of God’s Will”.

What is striking is how, in the common perception, holiness is so strongly associated with self-deprivation and conspicuous acts of piety.

To what extent might such conceptions of holiness – particularly among Northern European communities – have been influenced by Christianity with its idealisation of renouncing all worldly pleasure for a reclusive monastic existence? Or is perhaps the Christian view itself – which is also found in Eastern religions – merely an embodiment of a natural human assumption that association with the spiritual realm involves the negation of physicality rather than its elevation and refinement?

While these two notions of holiness may at times appear to overlap and share some common elements, the fundamental distinction between them lies in their contrasting goals. The Christian version seeks to renounce worldly pleasures as an end in and of itself, believing that by being less physical, one automatically becomes more spiritual and therefore more connected to God. Judaism, by contrast, demands total mastery and control over all aspects of one’s personality. Temporary deprivation is not idealised but is at most a stepping stone – a means through which a person can be trained to achieve that mastery and self-control. Furthermore, as R’ Hirsch points out, the commandment of holiness is very clearly addressed to the entire nation rather than to an elite monastic class. A very real goal that every individual can pursue – and to some extent attain – which their lifetime.

First posted to Facebook 1 May 2022, here.