What does it mean to be holy? It seems like such a simple little question, but it doesn't really have a simple answer; if it has any answer at all. Even the Torah avoids offering a straight-forward solution! We are told in this
week's parashah, "You shall be holy for I, the Lord your God, am holy" (Leviticus, 19:2). Ok, great. But what does THAT mean?? We aren't given an explanation of the word 'holy,' and we aren't told what it is about God that is holy, or what aspects of that holiness we could and should emulate. Once again, that is the brilliance of the Torah. No easy answers; just invitations to search for meaning in each of our own lives. Yet in light of the vicious attack on the finish line of the Boston Marathon, this question is more important to us than ever.
It's easy to get bogged down and distracted by the Temple-related topics of our Torah portion. You might be tempted to say that holiness is (limited to) sacrifice, cleanliness, adherence to ritual laws and customs, mitzvot, and all manner of ancient verbiage that we
associate with the Bible. But we're kind of letting ourselves off the hook then, aren't we? If 'holiness' is an outdated term, then I don't have to worry about things like holy behavior, holy speech, and holy relationships; when, in fact, they are perhaps more current now than ever before. We NEED to answer the question, 'what does it mean to be holy?', because it can reshape how we live our lives. The Book of Leviticus offers us this quandary, having to interpret holiness, and the Book of Deuteronomy does this to us as well. There, we are told to walk in God's ways, but again, what does that mean? Rabbi Shai Held, in an incredibly beautiful article in Tablet Magazine, offers us an answer.
Rabbi Held says: "If you want to really serve God, and not just go
through the motions, then learn to care for people in moments of
profound pain." Walking in God's ways, and engaging in holy behavior, they are both about accepting the discomforts in life, and actually leaning into the pain. Especially the pain of others. Life isn't all about joy and happy endings, and we need to challenge ourselves to stay in those moments of tension, and provide empathy, support, and love to the people around us.
And in the case of the Boston Marathon bombings, we saw this with the first responders who ran TOWARDS the injured and the dead, not away from them. Now, not everyone can do that, at least not with regards to a terrifying explosion. However, again, let us not be distracted by the specifics of this scenario - as we were with the sacrifices and impurities of our Torah portion - and let's instead focus on the lesson we must learn. Rabbi Held gives it to us straight: "Faced with a situation that makes us stare the
depth and extent of out vulnerability in the face, most of us want to
flee. Here, then, is Judaism’s message: You want to serve God? Run
towards the very people and places you most want to run away from. You
want to be religious? Learn to be present for other people when they are
in pain. All the rest is commentary."
We can all be first responders. Maybe not in the midst of a terror attack - God forbid - but in everyday life. Lean into the discomfort.
Don't run away from people in pain or in the midst of a life crisis. Don't try to talk about the weather or baseball or the Senate. Be present for one another and seek out opportunities to walk in God's ways with incredible holiness and meaning. The tragedy in Boston has left us all devastated and searching for answers. But at least there is one lesson we can learn from this. We can learn to be first responders to life, and to thereby live with greater holiness each and every day.Photos in this blog post:
3. CC image courtesy of The Israel Project on Flickr
4. CC image courtesy of HarshLight on Flickr
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