“Speak to all the congregation of the children of Yisrael, and say to them, You shall be holy: for I am holy.” (Vayikra 19:2)

The generally accepted meaning of being “holy” is to separate oneself, as it seems from the Ramban at first glance. The following question is asked, “If holiness means to separate oneself, what is the meaning of the rest of the verse ‘…For I am holy’? Does Hashem have an issue and struggle that He needs to separate from other things?” I think it is obvious that unlike people, Hashem is naturally Kadosh and separated. So what is the meaning of Hashem’s demand that we separate ourselves like He is separated?

I would like to explain it based on something I saw from Rav Baruch Mordechai Ezrachi (1929-2023). There is an expression in English “Once an alcoholic, always an alcoholic.” This means that even if a person goes through a 12-step program to cure his alcoholism, his natural tendency to seek alcohol will always be there. The only difference is that he will be able to control himself around alcohol. The 12-step program did not actually “cure” his disease of alcoholism, but rather it gave him tools so that he can live with it and overcome the drive, which relieves the pressure on him.

Rav Yisroel Salanter is quoted as saying that it is easier to learn all of Shas than to change one middah (personality trait). I believe that he is telling us that in the world of Torah, success is not keeping the beast at bay, but rather success is eradicating the beast, creating a reality where we have no desire for that illicit feeling or conduct. This is accomplished through learning mussar, gaining an appreciation of what is good, until we naturally understand and are repulsed by that which is not good. By working on our middos, we can create a different appreciation of the world.

There is another way to accomplish this. This is by actually abstaining from certain things. Rav Ezrachi explains that the idea that the Ramban teaches us, separating ourselves from certain physical activities, is not referring only to the physical separation, but rather it is a step in separating ourselves from the desire itself.

I would like to share with you an experience that I once had, which illustrates this idea. I was watching a child eat an ice cream cone and I was mesmerized by his elation as he was totally absorbed in this pleasure. My initial reaction was, “Boy, I wish I could enjoy an ice cream like him!” But after having that thought, I had a feeling of revulsion, and I said to myself, “I hope I NEVER enjoy an ice cream like that!” While it may be perfectly fine for a five-year-old child to be totally consumed with a particular pleasure, this type of behavior is inappropriate for an adult.

I recall that after that incident, eating ice cream just wasn’t the same as before. I am not saying that it is not tasty or that I don’t enjoy it, but I actually removed myself, to a degree, from that pleasure.

A successful “kadosh” would not feel deprived. Instead he would feel elated, but not just because he overcame (though that is not a bad reason to be elated, in its own right), but rather because he understands that he is “better than that.”

Similarly, we might see children in an intense fight over something they both desire, yet when we discover the object of the fight we might respond, “That is so petty! Aren’t you embarrassed to be fighting over that!?” That viewpoint comes from being removed from that desire.

In short, to be holy does not mean having to fight the battle, rather it means to achieve a level where there isn’t even a battle.

That is truly G-dly and it starts with our accepting those abstentions with a smile on our face.