Beloved Friends,
There is a directness, almost a moral clarity, in the opening words of Parashat Kedoshim: Kedoshim tihyu, ki kadosh ani Adonai Eloheichem, you shall be holy, for I, the Eternal your God, am holy. This is not a private spiritual aspiration. It is a communal charge. It is given to all of us, together. And this year, we feel just how much that matters.
We are living through a time of deep fracture within the Jewish community around Israel and our connection to it. For some, there is fear and fierce protection. For others, anguish and moral questioning. For many, it is all of this at once. These are not abstract debates; they are deeply personal, touching identity, family, memory, and hope. At the same time, we are witnessing a dramatic rise in antisemitism, here at home and around the world. There is a vulnerability many of us feel, sometimes quietly, sometimes sharply. It can leave us guarded, reactive, and uncertain about where we are safe and where we are not.
And layered on top of this is a broader culture of polarization, where disagreement so quickly becomes disconnection. Into all of this, the Torah demands: you shall be holy. Why this command, and why now? The Sifra, (1st or 2nd century rabbinic commentary), teaches that holiness means to walk in God's ways. Just as God is compassionate, we are called to be compassionate. Just as God creates space, we are called to make space. In a moment when our instinct may be to close in, to protect our own perspective, holiness asks us to widen the circle just enough to hold another voice, another experience, another pain.
Rashi, (Rabbi Shlomo Yitzchaki, 1040–1105), reminds us that holiness requires boundaries. Not every word needs to be said. Not every criticism needs to be delivered in a way that wounds. In a time when conversations about Israel can become sharp and unforgiving, holiness calls us to speak with care, to challenge without demeaning, to hold strong views without diminishing the humanity of those who see differently.
Nachmanides, (Rabbi Moses ben Nachman, 1194–1270), pushes us further. He teaches that holiness lives even in what is permitted. We can be justified in our anger, and still allow it to consume us. We can be certain in our position, and still close ourselves off to learning. Torah asks more of us. It asks for humility, anavah, the ability to say, I see part of the truth, but not all of it.
The Mussar tradition, especially in Mesillat Yesharim written by Rabbi Moshe Chaim Luzzatto (18th C Italy), reminds us that this work is ongoing and intentional. Holiness is cultivated through daily practice. Through savlanut, patience, when conversations become tense. Through nedivut lev, a generous heart, when fear would have us withdraw. Through the quiet discipline of returning again and again to who we want to be, even when the world pulls us in another direction.
And the rabbis in Midrash Rabbah, (5th or 7th century rabbinic commentary) remind us that this command is given to the entire community. Holiness is not about uniformity. It is about covenant. It is about remaining bound to one another even when we disagree, even when we struggle, even when we do not fully understand one another.
Abraham Joshua Heschel taught that the goal of a spiritual life is not simply to know more, but to encounter the sacred within the flow of our lives. In God in Search of Man, he writes, "The higher goal of spiritual living is not to amass a wealth of information, but to face sacred moments." In a time when we can easily become consumed by headlines, arguments, and fear, Heschel gently redirects us. Holiness is found in how we meet this moment, with awareness, with responsibility, with a sense that even now, we are being called to respond in ways that honor the image of God in ourselves and in one another.
Kedoshim tihyu. In a time of fracture, let us be a community that holds together. In a time of fear, let us be a source of strength for one another. In a time when voices pull us apart, let us do the sacred work of staying in relationship. This is not easy work. But it is holy work. And it is ours to do.
Shabbat Shalom,
