The cry from so many corners after the disaster in Meron and during the horrible week in Israel has been for unity. There can be no quibble with that. But what kind of unity? We can all agree about the unity that should override petty differences and which will remain elusive until the divisive political culture both here and in Israel has a lesser claim on our attention or passion.
But when we speak of unity in Torah terms, it has to be multi-dimensional. There is a unity between us and Hashem, a unity between Jews, and a unity in oneself. The first depends on a real sense of trust and steadfastness in our relationship with Hashem. The second emphasizes that which binds us as Jews over what divides us. The last is a more unitary purpose to our priorities. There are two very different ways to these goals. We have been dominated of late by one path but Shavuot gives us a chance at another.
Just before the attack of Amalek after the splitting of the sea, there is a well-known episode with a lack of water. After the water starts to flow again, the place is called Masa U’Meriva. As the verse explains, the name comes from the Reev, the argument, and the Nisayon, the testing of Hashem. The pithy expression of that strife was in a simple question: “HaYesh Hashem Bi’kirbeinu Im Ayin,” whether Hashem is amongst us or not.
What is Ayin? We quickly understand it to mean “a lack,” or something missing, as in, was Hashem there or was He not. But a teacher of mine once told us that it referred to something beyond that, a question that spurs greater anxiety. The Netziv says that it is a question of whether Hashem is with us only when Moshe Rabenu is leading us or will He be here even if Moshe is not here? Another way to say it is, “Is Hashem here in a dependent way or is it unconditional?”
We often engage with Hashem along the lines of a system of reward and punishment that depends on rules. But does Hashem have a relationship to the Jewish people that goes beyond rules? That is relevant because of course we do fail, and we have to know that He is there even if we do. That is what the question was in the desert. Is Hashem within us in terms of reward and punishment or is there a realm beyond the rules, which is referred to as “Ayin,” where he is with us no matter what? The answer to that is unequivocally yes, but it also depends on a sense of trust.
In the desert, the answer to that breach, the commentators say, is the attack of Amalek. Nothing attaches the Jewish people to Hashem more than physical danger; nothing brings out as much of a visceral connection to Hashem, or to each other, as crisis. The Tehillim are fervent and they are plentiful. Over the last few weeks, the tears have been real. As a result, people straighten out their priorities, forgive differences, and call out to Hashem.
But at Shavuot we are reminded that there is another way that unites. The Jewish people are described at the bottom of the mountain in the singular, which Rashi calls “K’Eesh Echad b’lev Echad,” like a single individual with one heart. Commentators compare that to the Egyptians, who just chapters before were described as having one heart and therefore being united. Only common cause unites the Egyptians while the Jews are seen as innately united. We are one nation, after all, meant to reflect in the world the indivisible unity of Hashem. On the other hand, the Jews are only intermittently able to manifest their unity in reality. Har Sinai was one of those instances.
Was Har Sinai a crisis? Did we unite because of a crisis? No. In the Davening on Shavuot we will call it “Matan Torah” and not “Yom Kabalat Torateinu.” We all know that we received the Torah. If so, why is the emphasis on the “giving of our Torah”? I believe that we call our Kabala, our reception, of the Torah the giving of the Torah because that is what receiving truly means. Simply receiving is too passive. The Midrash describes Moshe Rabenu overcoming Hashem in wrestling the Tablets from Him. We were united at Har Sinai in an active way from our side. Active learning does not have to be a matter of skills. Active learning means engaging with the text or the teacher, asking questions, actively chewing on Torah until it yields its taste. Jews united in this will find their differences slide away, unified with Hashem, with each other and within themselves.
Chag Sameach!
Congregation Emek Beracha 4102 El Camino Real Palo Alto, CA 94306
