The Questions Everyone's Afraid to Ask About Jews
7 min read
What comes to mind when you hear the word "holiness"?
Most religions present holiness as separation from the physical world – the monk isolated on a mountain, the priest in his austere abbey. This view seems so universal that we rarely question it. Yet Judaism offers a radical alternative that turns this concept completely upside down.
In this week’s Torah portion, God commands, "You shall be holy (kedoshim tihiu) for holy am I."1 Rashi, the greatest Torah commentator, explains, "Separate from sexual misconduct and idolatry - wherever you find a fence against lewdness, you find holiness."
At first glance, this confirms our assumptions – holiness means renunciation, asceticism, detachment. But this understanding completely misses Judaism's revolutionary approach to spiritual life.
The most powerful evidence against this misunderstanding comes from our marriage tradition. The very act of betrothal in Judaism is called "kiddushin"—literally "holification." When a Jewish man places a ring on his bride's finger, he declares "Harei at mkudeshet li" - "I am making you holy (kadosh) to me." If kadosh means separate, he'd essentially be saying "Get away from me!" But we know that on the contrary, he's declaring, "Let's connect in the most powerful way imaginable! Let's become 'one flesh!'"2
We find further confirmation in Tosafos—the Talmudic commentary authored primarily by Rashi's grandchildren—which defines Kedushin—betrothal— as “The act of prohibiting your wife to everyone else by designating her uniquely and specifically to you.'3 This reveals the true essence of kedusha: not mere separation, but sacred, exclusive connection.
So where did we go wrong in interpreting Rashi? Let's look carefully at his comment - "wherever you find a fence against lewdness, you find holiness." Wait - is the fence the holiness? No! Holiness is the result of putting up the fence! The fence doesn't create holiness directly; it clears away the obstacles that block true connection. Kedusha, holiness, is the passionate connection enabled by removing all impediments to oneness.4
But it gets even better. Just as a man and woman who come together in physical unity achieve the highest level of physical pleasure, the unity of man and God - kedusha - produces the highest spiritual pleasure. Whereas physical pleasure is subject to limitation and impermanence, spiritual pleasure is infinite and eternal. Kedusha—oneness with the Divine—is therefore the greatest pleasure of all.
Now that we've established the true meaning of holiness, let's revisit Rashi's emphasis on separation. Why does achieving kedusha require separating from improper behavior? Imagine two perfectly smooth surfaces. When completely clean, they naturally meld into one when brought together. Yet even the smallest dust particle creates a rift between them. For two to become one, there must be nothing blocking the connection.
Interestingly, Rashi highlights two specific sins that, by refraining from them, lead to kedusha - sexual misconduct and idolatry. Why these two out of hundreds of sins in the Torah?
As we’ve explained, kedusha is fundamentally about relationship - two becoming one. The two most important relationships in our lives are with our spouse and with God. Our Sages teach that the spousal relationship serves as our training ground for how we're meant to relate to God. Both relationships demand complete dedication - cutting off distractions to fan the flame of love for what we hold most precious.
Sexual misconduct directly attacks our relationship with our spouse. Idolatry directly attacks our relationship with God. While other sins certainly damage these relationships, these two strike at their very foundation. By refraining from what destroys our most vital connections, we create the space for holiness - for passionate connection - with those we are meant to love most deeply.
When I first started connecting to Judaism, I remember reaching my hand out to greet the Rabbi's wife at a Shabbas meal. She politely declined, explaining: "In our tradition, we keep physical contact reserved for our spouse alone—it's our way of honoring the special bond we share." The story again illustrates that way to kedusha—to passionate connection—is by maintaining boundaries that strengthen and protect our most meaningful relationships. Think of putting your thumb over the top of a hose, turning a lazy stream into a powerful blast.
Unlike other religions where "holy men" renounce marriage, Judaism's approach embraces and elevates the physical world. Our greatest sages marry and raise families—this isn't a concession to human nature but the essence of Jewish holiness.
In the ancient Temple, the Torah calls the innermost chamber the "Kodesh HaKodashim"—the Holy of Holies. Paralleling this, our sages call the marital bedroom the "Kodesh HaKodashim" of the home. True holiness doesn't reject the physical; it infuses it with spiritual purpose.
Judaism teaches that kedusha isn't about escaping the material world but about revealing God's presence within it. Consider Shabbat—our holiest day. We separate from mundane weekday activities, yet we sanctify this day with wine and delicious food—vehicles of physical pleasure and joy. This process of sanctification applies to all facets of life. When we eat mindfully, conduct business ethically, or unite in intimacy as husband and wife, we become partners with God in connecting heaven and earth.
The Path of the Just, Rabbi Moshe Chaim Luzzato’s foundational guide to character development, culminates with its highest level—Kedusha. There, the Ramchal reveals what makes kedusha unique: unlike other traits requiring solely our efforts, with kedusha, as we draw close to God, He draws equally close to us—we invest effort and He completes the rest.
Rabbi Aharon Lopiansky elaborates: God constantly seeks closeness with us, but we pursue fulfillment in all the wrong places. Therefore, to reconnect with God, we need only to return to our true nature. The pathway back to Him is already within us—He's simply waiting, longing for us to remember the connection that has always existed. In our verse, God tells us, "You shall be holy because I am holy"—I am always passionately connected to you; you need only remove the blockages and turn your focus back to Me; I'll be waiting with open arms.
To make kedusha practical, try this exercise:
By bringing this consciousness into prayer times, quiet moments, and even routine activities, we open ourselves to experiencing the profound joy and genuine serenity that flows naturally from living in connection with the Divine.
Shabbat Shalom!
Avraham
Inspiration for this essay comes from the teachings of my Rabbi and mentor, Rabbi Beryl Gershenfeld
