Nothing Is Beneath Us, Everything Can Be Made Holy

For the Hasidic rabbis everything has the potential for holiness.  There is no such thing as the everyday and ordinary.   The twentieth century philosopher Martin Buber comments,

In life, as Hasidism understands and proclaims it, there is, accordingly, no essential distinction between sacred and profane spaces, between sacred and profane times, between sacred and profane actions, between sacred and profane conversations.  At each place, in each hour, in each act, in each speech the holy can blossom forth. (Hasidism and Modern Man)

Everything is laden with potential sparks.  Holiness does not remain in the synagogue’s sanctuary.  It travels with us wherever we go.   Every task offers us an invitation to encounter the divine. 

In ancient times the priest not only attended to the sacrifices but had to do the messy work of removing the ash from the altar.  The priest was even charged with tending to the fire.  The Torah commands, “The fire on the altar shall be kept burning, not to go out: every morning the priest shall feed wood to it.” (Leviticus 6)

These tasks are not left to an assistant or groundskeeper.  They are obligations of the priest.  The behind-the-scenes work is just as important as the public work.  We tend to lavish praise on those who stand in front of the crowds but forget about those who tend to the arduous details before and after the event. 

Recently, as I was leaving a concert late one evening and I noticed two men arriving to the venue wear safety harnesses and carrying heavy ropes.  They were there to take down the lighting and stage works to move the concert to its next city.  They received no applause and no accolades.  That was reserved for David Byrne and his fellow musicians.  The work of these stagehands is a forgotten piece behind the events we so enjoy. 

Jackson Browne sings, “Now the seats are all empty.  Let the roadies take the stage.  Pack it up and tear it down.  They're the first to come and the last to leave.  Working for that minimum wage.  They'll set it up in another town.”

The Torah does not leave such tasks to roadies.  It instead assigns them to the lead performer.  It’s as if to say taking out the trash is just as important as every other chore.   It is not to be denigrated.  And it is not to be taken for granted.

It too can be infused with holiness. 

Next time when faced with a menial task, rather than dismiss it or suggest it is for others, embrace it and ask, “How can this elevate my life?  How can this seemingly mundane task lead to holiness?” 

There is nothing beneath us.  Everything can be made holy.

At each place, in each hour, in each act, in each speech the holy can blossom forth.