Holiness in Time
Holiness in Time
Holiness in Time
We are often blind to the dimension that lacks physical substance, and that can
lead to enslavement to things.
In this excerpt from his classic book on the Sabbath, Professor Heschel argues that Judaism
shows a bias for the dimension of time over space as the realm in which we seek to imbue our
lives with holiness. His point is arguable, but his influence is felt in the writings of many Jewish
thinkers of the late twentieth century and beyond. Reprinted with permission from The Sabbath:
Its Meaning for Modern Man, published by Noonday Press.
We are all infatuated with the splendor of space, with the grandeur of things of space. “Thing” is
a category that lies heavy on our minds, tyrannizing all our thoughts. Our imagination tends to
mold all concepts in its image. In our daily lives we attend primarily to that which the senses are
spelling out for us: to what the eyes perceive, to what the fingers touch. Reality to us is
thinghood, consisting of substances that occupy space; even God is conceived by most of us as a
thing.
The result of our thinginess is our blindness to all reality that fails to identify itself as a thing, as
a matter of fact. This is obvious in our understanding of time, which, being thingless and
insubstantial, appears to us as if it had no reality.
Indeed, we know what to do with space but do not know what to do about time, except to make it
subservient to space. Most of us seem to labor for the sake of things of space. As a result we
suffer from a deeply rooted dread of time and stand aghast when compelled to look into its face.
Time to us is sarcasm, a slick treacherous monster with a jaw like a furnace incinerating every
moment of our lives. Shrinking, therefore, from facing time, we escape for shelter to things of
space. The intentions we are unable to carry out we deposit in space; possessions become the
symbols of our repressions, jubilees of frustrations. But things of space are not fireproof; they
only add fuel to the flames. Is the joy of possession an antidote to the terror of time which grows
to be a dread of inevitable death? Things, when magnified, are forgeries of happiness, they are a
threat to our very lives; we are more harassed than supported by the Frankensteins of spatial
things.
It is impossible for man to shirk the problem of time. The more we think the more we realize: we
cannot conquer time through space. We can only master time in time.
The higher goal of spiritual living is not to amass a wealth of information, but to face sacred
moments. In a religious experience, for example, it is not a thing that imposes itself on man but a
spiritual presence. What is retained in the soul is the moment of insight rather than the place
where the act came to pass. A moment of insight is a fortune, transporting us beyond the confines
of measured time. Spiritual life begins to decay when we fail to sense the grandeur of what is
eternal in time.
Our intention here is not to deprecate the world of space. To disparage space and the blessing of
things of space is to disparage the works of creation, the works which God beheld and saw "it
was good." The world cannot be seen exclusively sub specie temporis [under the aspect of time].
Time and space are interrelated. To overlook either of them is to be partially blind. What we
plead against is man's unconditional surrender to space, his enslavement to things. We must not
forget that it is not a thing that lends significance to a moment; it is the moment that lends
significance to things.
Rabbi Abraham Joshua Heschel, Ph.D. (1907-1972), born in Warsaw and educated in Poland and
Germany, was Professor of Ethics and Mysticism at the Jewish Theological Seminary of
America. Among his books are Man Is Not Alone, God in Search of Man, The Earth is the
Lord's, and Israel: Echo of Eternity.