It’s a strange thing. We bury our loved ones once their bodies cease functioning. And Jews bury Torah books once they’ve lost their function. How did this come about?

After commanding us to destroy all traces of idolatry, the Torah cautions, “Do not do so to the L-rd your G‑d.”1 While we’re told to destroy and obliterate the altars and even the “names” of false gods, we’re simultaneously warned not to act similarly toward that which bears holiness.

From this juxtaposition, the Sages derive that it’s forbidden to damage or erase anything that contains G‑d’s name, such as Torah texts. The Talmud teaches that one who erases even a single letter of the Divine Name (or who destroys parts of the Holy Temple or its vessels) transgresses a Torah prohibition.2 This prohibition also includes the destruction of holy writings or objects used for the service of G‑d.3

The Sefer HaChinuch sheds light on the underlying purpose of this commandment. Our physical actions, he writes, shape the state of our hearts. When we treat holy objects as something elevated and precious, we train ourselves to perceive holiness in the world around us. By honoring that which is sacred, we cultivate within ourselves a deeper awe of G‑d.4

This is why, when a sacred text (such as a well-worn siddur, a Torah study notebook, or pages containing G‑d’s Name) can no longer be used, we don’t simply throw it out. Instead, we put it in a genizah (“storage”) and bury it. Just as the human body, which once served as the vessel for the soul, is returned to the earth with honor, so too a page that once bore the words of Torah is laid to rest respectfully.

It seems as though we extend some of the mourning and burial practices from those who pass away to holy books and objects. But interestingly, the opposite is actually true—we learn how to mourn our loved ones from how we mourn a Torah scroll. In the words of the Talmud:

Rabbi Shimon ben Elazar says: One who stands over the deceased at the time of the soul’s departure is obligated to rend his clothes. To what may this be likened? To a Torah scroll that is burned, for which anyone present is obligated to rend his clothes.5

By honoring these remnants of holiness, we remind ourselves that the Divine is not confined to heaven above. The words we write and the Torah we learn infuses holiness into physical paper and ink, just as the soul gives life to the body and makes it human.

For more on which objects need to be buried and how to go about it, see Disposing of Sacred Items.