This week’s Parsha speaks about Kiddush and Chillul Hashem – sanctifying and desecrating Hashem’s Name in public and private. The Torah tells us, “Do not defile my Name of kedusha [separation], and I will be made kadosh among the Jewish people – I am Hashem Who makes you kadosh” (Vayikra 22:32). According to Rashi, “do not defile…” refers to abstention from intentional transgression, while “I will be made kadosh …” constitutes a command to the Jews that they give their lives to advance God’s Name. These two options sound like the farthest extremes of dedication to Hashem. In the first case, a person is doing the absolute minimum possible in his service to Hashem—refraining from sin—while in the second case, the individual is willing to give up all for Hashem. Do our lives as Jews need to fit into one extreme or the other? Where does the “ordinary Jew” fit in?
The word “Kedusha” being repeated three times in the same verse, we must seek to understand this elusive concept. Rashi (to 19:2) notes that the Torah’s descriptions of the worst transgressions are always juxtaposed with the idea of kedusha. In this vein it is noteworthy that “kadeisha” is the term used for a prostitute, although a prostitute’s actions would appear at a surface level to be the antithesis of kedusha, of holiness. This seems to suggest that kedusha can be used both to reach the greatest of heights and sink to the lowest of lows.
How do we use kedusha in the right way? The Rambam (Hilchos Yesodei HaTorah, Chapter 7) notes that kedusha, an exalted state of spirituality, requires a certain amount of separation from the material world—a concept known as hafrasha. However, the Rambam clarifies that this only works if the hafrasha is part of a carefully planned spiritual diet. Randomly starving oneself will yield great danger, but carefully denying certain foods can be most beneficial. Too great a separation from the material world, even with the right intentions, could lead one not to spirituality, but to those transgressions described in the Torah which are the exact opposite of kedusha.
Rashi’s reading of our verse gives us a challenging but attainable spiritual ideal. The two “extremes” of divine service, distance from transgression and willingness to give one’s life for Hashem, are not so different after all. Kedusha can allow for both, depending on how one understands the nature and function of his separate identity as a Jew. If one views his having been born a Jew as the chance to live his life on autopilot and reap the benefits at the end, he could easily slip into a life of sin. Conversely, if he views his life as an opportunity to accomplish great things, he can reach the exalted level of giving up his life for Hashem.
A Jew must realize that his kedusha is not merely genetic. Rather, kedusha is endowed to a Jew to allow him to accomplish a specific function and attain certain goals. At the beginning of the Parsha, there is an interaction which demonstrates this point. Hashem tells Moshe to talk to “the kohanim – the sons of Aharon.” We know that the kohanim are the sons of Aharon—why is there a need to specify their lineage here? The Kedushas Levi explains that it is important for the Kohanim to remember that their exalted status is not an automatic endowment due to their lineage alone. Rather, they have to live up to their reputation as the “sons of Aharon.” Aharon’s own status was achieved through hard work, and it is the kohanim’s responsibility to uphold Aharon’s name and not rely solely on their pedigree.
In life, we constantly have the opportunity to raise objects from the mundane to the spiritual. Reciting a blessing turns an ordinary apple into a “holy” object, one newly separated for a special Divine function. Our task in life is to achieve the same for ourselves. Through keeping the Torah, we too have the potential to elevate ourselves and become holy. As we strengthen ourselves by separation from negative influences, we must also use the tools Hashem has given us to become holy. It is upon our shoulders to strike this balance through a lifetime of work. It is our greatest task—a mission we choose to accept.