A version of this sermon was delivered on Erev Rosh HaShanah 5783 at Temple B'nai Torah - A Reform Congregation in Wantagh, NY.
The Aleppo Codex, written in Tiberias over 1100 years ago, is one of the oldest surviving Hebrew manuscripts of the Hebrew Bible. It contains the most accurate transcription of the traditions of the Masoretes, whose customs of pronunciation and chanting, inherited from the generations before them, we still use to this day. The Codex, which looks more like a book than a Torah scroll, traveled to Jerusalem from Tiberias, and then to Egypt. In Egypt, it was used by none other than Moses Maimonides, The Rambam, one of our people’s greatest scholars and philosophers, whose work we still consult to understand Jewish law and thought. In his Mishnah Torah, written in the 12th century, he even remarks about this particular volume, referring to it as the Codex he relied upon while formulating his laws. This is the book he used to look up verses and to cite sources in the Bible.
After Egypt, the Codex made its way to Aleppo, Syria, where it gets its name. There it was kept by the Jewish community for centuries, until the 1950s, when it was smuggled to Israel. Sadly, the Jewish community of Aleppo is all but no more, and their glorious synagogue has been destroyed, another casualty of the war.
The Codex now rests at the Shrine of the Book in Jerusalem at the Israel Museum, alongside the Dead Sea Scrolls, which were written and hidden almost 1,000 years before.
I have been to the Israel Museum a few times. It doesn’t always make the list of sites that fit into a cramped itinerary. It wasn’t until the last time I was there, however, that I saw, or maybe better, noticed the Aleppo Codex in the Shrine of The Book.
Gazing upon those pages, those words, in deep dark ink, still legible and comprehensible today, still transmitting the same messages and commandments as 1100 years ago. In many ways, the Codex is a representation of the Jewish people surviving through the generations.
As a rabbi, standing above its thick glass case, peering into the words of Torah that I know well and remembering all that this book has lived through, was overwhelming and exciting for me. It was clear, I came to understand, that the Codex was imbued with the holiness of the generations. A holiness that was present as it was written with devotion and dedication to a divine obligation. A sought-after holiness that was the impetus for Maimonides to do his work, clarifying our obligations. A holiness that comes from an object that brings together divine purpose and the human action. A holiness that has been passed down to us through the inheritance of our tradition.
It’s not often that we feel or experience such a definite sense of holiness. We may seek it out. We may try to fill our lives with it. Yet it often remains elusive, internally and outside of ourselves. Part of that elusiveness is because holiness is neither easy to define nor easy to understand, even if sometimes it may be easy to experience.
Holiness surrounds us our entire lives: from the kiddush at a bris or a baby naming to the blessings of kiddushin at a wedding as the rings are exchanged, to the mourners’ kaddish at the gravesite. Declarations of holiness punctuate the most powerful and important moments of our lives and the lives of those we love. Yet, holiness is not meant to be a momentary blessing or prayer. It is an endeavor, an act of emulation, a state of being.
When spouses under a chuppah speak the words of the vow of kiddushin to each other, they are declaring that their partner is set apart and special, different from all others on Earth from now on. These events of generational and familial connection are indeed holy moments. A soaring rendition of Avinu Malkeinu, as we heard tonight with thanks to our Cantor and our Choir, moves our souls and becomes for many of us a holy moment. These Days of Awe, especially, call us to come face to face with the holiness presented to us, outside of ourselves, in order that we commit to the obligations which can lead us to reach the holiness within ourselves.
Linguists tell us that the root kadosh means separate and set apart, often for special purpose. As Rabbi Adin Steinsaltz explains it: “To be holy is, in essence, to be distinctly other.” Yet we also know that holiness is ethereal and ephemeral. It’s a feeling as much as a designation. It’s an obligation and a gift. It’s internal and external. It’s a part of us, yet we seek it. For something we talk about so often, kedushah could use some clarity. And so, this year, as a congregation, we will be studying, exploring, and working to understand holiness. Holiness as a gift from God and holiness as our obligation from God. And we’ll start at the beginning.
The first declaration of holiness takes us all there. As Creation concludes, God proclaims it very good, tov me’od. God has done a lot of separating and declaring purpose over the last six days, as water, earth, and sky are each given their own distinct and separate space and as each is filled with unique creatures. Once creation is done, God ceases from working on the seventh day. Then, וַיְבָ֤רֶךְ אֱלֹהִים֙ אֶת־י֣וֹם הַשְּׁבִיעִ֔י God blesses the seventh day וַיְקַדֵּ֖שׁ אֹת֑וֹ and God sanctifies it. God doesn’t just say it’s holy. Well, actually God does, because that is how God works, speaking equals creating. In speaking the holiness of Shabbat, God makes it holy by separating it from the week, by assigning it special rules and regulations, by preventing creative work. God also makes it holy for all time. We are gifted the holiness of Shabbat from God. We are commanded to remember and observe Shabbat lekodsho, in order to make it holy. Shabbat, the holy day, is our gift and our obligation.
On Shabbat and other holy days, we make that holiness literal through the blessing of kiddush. A few minutes from now, we will hear the special kiddush for Rosh HaShanah. The kiddush tonight includes the root kadosh four times. Our English translation masks the repetition by using synonyms. We bless the sweet wine for a sweet year. Twice we announce that God has chosen us from all other peoples to sanctify us, to make us holy, through service to God and the mitzvot. The mitzvot, our obligations themselves, are our inheritance. Our holiness through their observance is a gift from God.
When we lit the candles earlier, ushering in the new year, we recited the blessing that reminds us: asher kiddishanu bemitzvotav, that we are made holy through God’s commandments, that which God calls us to do. When we start to look for it, we see that holiness, kedushah, is the heart of our covenantal project.
We are chosen by God for special purpose. The holy words we will chant from our Torah when we arrive at Yom Kippur afternoon, from the Torah portion Kedoshim instruct us as such. In the longest hours of the fast, as we await sunset and see the finish line ahead of us, we make the deliberate choice to announce God’s words to the entire community of the children of Israel: Kedoshim Tihiyu. You shall be holy! We are obligated to be holy, God tells us, for I the Eternal your God am holy.
What could that mean? How is our holiness related to God’s? God meets the criteria for holiness. God is separate and apart. There is only one God. We call God the Holy One of Blessing, HaKadosh Baruch Hu. We’re supposed to mimic that!? We’re supposed to mimic that. As our Shabbat rest emulates God’s rest, our holiness mirrors God’s. According to Rabbi Yitz Greenberg, God possesses consciousness, power, love and freedom. “Humans are instructed to become more like God. They become more holy by developing their consciousness, by creating and applying more power for life and good, by deepening their capacity for love and relationship, by exercising free will to choose life and do good.”
We emulate God when we utilize those gifts we have because we are made b’tzelem Elohim, in the divine image: those gifts of consciousness, power, love, and freedom. As a holy nation, we are called, as Martin Buber writes, to “not withdraw from the world, but rather radiate a positive influence on it through every aspect of Jewish living.” Holiness is manifest when our Judaism, our Jewish values, our Jewish commitment to Torah, Worship, and Deeds of Kindness, are felt by the world around us.
The Midrash teaches that God’s holiness is above us. A Chassidic teaching reframes the language to understand this midrash as God saying that the holiness that is above is the same as our own. In this way, the holiness we create here on earth, the generational lessons, the customs, the recognition of and dedication to the special purpose, the accepting of the gift and the fulfillment of our obligations, all of that leads to holiness below and holiness above. Our actions have a direct effect on the heavens. It’s not just mimicking the divine, it’s the effect we have on the divine. Our seeking holiness feeds the divine holiness. We become partners with the divine in not just creation, but in bringing about God’s holiness. What a gift we are given, if only we follow through with our obligation!
Holiness is not situational or momentary; it’s ongoing. Kedoshim tihiyu is in the future tense Rabbi Chayyim Ibn Attar highlights, because: “The implication is that this is a commandment which is an ongoing process.” We don’t just become holy once or experience it once; we constantly engage with it. We seek ways to imbue our lives and our surroundings with it. We are asked to constantly accept the gift and agree to the obligation.
Kedoshim tihiyu is an odd commandment. On the one hand, we’re commanded to be special and set apart, distinguished. On the other, we’re asked to do so as a part of our community. Each of us seeks out holiness based on the communal obligation. We are each called individually to honor our parents and keep Shabbat. We are called communally to holiness. Moses is to speak these words, declaring the people’s holiness, to the entire community of the children of Israel. This formulation in the Torah stresses that everyone was to hear. The gift is communal. The obligations more often individual.
Being in the presence of holy words, as I was at the Israel Museum those few years ago, I sensed a holiness outside of myself. Together, we will have opportunities over this year to come closer to holy words in a powerful and meaningful way, and I don’t just mean by studying them and hearing them. By now I’m sure you’ve seen save-the-date information for our Torah Restoration weekend in early December. We will all, as a community, participate in the writing and the restoration of holy words. We will welcome our Torah scribe to teach us about the scrolls and the words and about their writing. Those who choose will have the opportunity to write in a Torah scroll.
When we gather in December, to write with dark black ink on parchment, with a feather pen, we will emulate our ancestors, who did it just the same way. We will write and fix the same words that appear in the Aleppo Codex from 1100 years ago and the Dead Sea Scrolls of 2,000 years ago. We will write and fix the same words handed to Moses on Sinai. The holiness of the generations will be evident. We will restore our holy sefer Torah, and we will ensure that the letters are bright and clarion for the next generation. I encourage everyone to participate in this powerful and meaningful opportunity to come face to face with the holy words. To ensure that the gift of holy words we have been given is passed down to the next generation.
Holiness is always around us and a part of so much of our tradition. We may take it somewhat for granted. We’re in a sanctuary, a holy room. We have a holy ark, holy Torahs. Clergy are referred to as klei kodesh, vessels of holiness. There’s no getting away from it! At the same time, we are also always in pursuit of it, seeking it, looking for ways to fill our hearts and souls and our world with it. The Kabbalists inspire us in this endeavor: “Be persistent in learning how to sanctify what you do. In the end, the Blessed Holy One will guide you on the path that wishes to impart holiness to you, so that you become holy” We seek holiness so God can gift us holiness.
Let us therefore dedicate our year of study to seeking out a deeper understanding of kedushah, of holiness, for ourselves and our community. And thereby may we instill within each of us and all of us that holiness which is our inheritance and our calling, our obligation and our gift.
Shanah Tovah!
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