There is no joy like the unraveling of doubts

It’s a paradox: Ask a believer of another faith whether it is necessary to eat matzah in order to celebrate freedom, to fast in order to atone, or to turn off the TV in order to observe the Sabbath, and the chances are the answer will be no. It’s the spirit that counts, the Jew will be told.

Many Jews will say the same.

Yet, when we have a Jewish holiday primarily dependent on spirit, watch what happens: nothing. Shavuos is the least observed of the major Jewish holidays. It’s because Shavuos has no rituals. No matzah, no fasting, no sukkah, no tefilin for Shavuos.

It’s just us, and G-d.

Just spirit.

Just the study of Torah and . . . nothing else.

OK, we add in a little cheesecake.

We make a big deal out of eating milk foods.

Which, admittedly, presumes a certain ritual sensitivity, since the milk foods on Shavuos are not eaten with meat; i.e., the focus on milk presumes a sensitivity to kashrut.

Pardon me, but . . . big deal. The fact is that if one does not eat any milk product on Shavuos, one has not violated any Jewish law.

It’s a holiday empty of ritual.

Granted, all night Torah study sessions are much more popular than they used to be; but still, essentially unobserved, for one reason: They’re not required.

So it is that out of the tens of thousands of Jews in metro Denver, a few hundred (at best) stay up all night studying Torah on Shavuos.

Visit our Community Calendar for details of learning events happening on Shavuot

That is silent testimony to the power of ritual — of a seder, a bris, a broken glass at a wedding. Ritual pulls us in, even if we say the opposite.

The anonymity of Shavuos is silent testimony to the difficulty of plugging into the central pillar not just of Shavuos, but of Judaism: the Torah.

The truth is, the Torah is hard to access. It’s complex. It’s comprised of narratives, and laws, and argumentation, and ethics, and admonition. It’s for a literary scholar, a lawyer, a debater, a moralist, a preacher — the student of Torah must be all of these, wrapped into one.

The Torah is both black-and-white and endlessly subtle.

Not to mention, it’s not in English.

Is it any wonder, then, that in the freest culture in human history, the Torah generally and Shavuos particularly have a tough time competing for Jews’ loyalty and time?

And yet, here we are.

Shavuos commemorates the revelation of the Divine will to the human being.

That happened, in the direct and dramatic way described in Exodus, only once in history.

According to Jewish tradition, it will never happen that way again. Ever.

Herein, perhaps, lies the redemption of Shavuos.

Why will revelation not recur? Because G-d has given over the Torah to the human being. Yes, the Torah has its well defined rules of interpretation, and only the person capable of transcending his own self-interest can apply those rules authoritatively, but still: It’s man.

It’s us. It’s people.

We are the final arbiters of the Torah.

The Torah is “not in Heaven” anymore, as the Torah itself puts it.

Yes, we look to the intellectually rigorous and honest interpretation of the Torah to apply it in our own day and age, and we tremble before G-d as we do so, but again, it’s us.

The religion is in our hands.

That is the motivation to study the Torah.

To learn enough to see how it applies to our lives.

Either to learn enough ourselves, or to establish a mentor-disciple relationship with someone who has learned enough.

That’s the pull of Shavuos: Call it “spirit” or “ritual” or both, but the final arbiter of Jewish life is the community of Torah masters we ourselves build.

There’s no matzah on Shavuos because the Torah itself can liberate us.

There’s no fasting on Shavuos because the study of the holy text itself atones.

There’s no TV (or any other electronic device) on Shavuos because the competition from the Torah outshines them, hands down.

There’s no sukkah on Shavuos — it’s unnecessary.

And no tefilin — equally unnecessary.

Shavuos is sort of like swimming. At first, it’s boring and confining. You don’t move. In fact, you sink. But the buoyancy of the water, not to mention the sight of others gliding through it, gives you a clear message: Stick with the swimming lessons. They definitely lead you to a unique motion not available any other way on earth.

Some have a fear of the water. Even they know it’s worth trying to get over it.

Shavuos is worth it.

It’s the best spiritual investment.

It’s black-and-white: uniquely powerful.

It’s also subtle, disclosing unseen levels of joy as it finally yields its clarity.

The Talmud says, “there is no joy like the unraveling of doubts.”

Shavuos inspires Torah study, which unravels doubts, which fills one with joy.

There’s a reason for the phrase, simchas Torah, the joy of Torah. That’s the end return on the investment in Shavuos.

Good yontiv!

Copyright © 2013 by the Intermountain Jewish News