The mountain climbers of the world dream about and work toward scaling the highest mountain in the world—Mount Everest in Senegal. This is the greatest mountain peak any human being can reach if he or she fantasizes about such an endeavor. Its peak is the height at which most commercial aircrafts cruise—about 30,000 feet.
This week, Jews around the world have our very own mountain to climb, and this one, by design, is the smallest of mountains—Sinai. This is where the people of Israel gathered shortly after the Exodus from Egypt 3,335 years ago.
Our commentators stated a few weeks ago—in Parashas Behar—that the idea of giving the Torah to Am Yisrael at this specific geographic location was loaded with meaning, communicating a whole host of messages for us to carry through the generations.
On the one hand, if the giving of the Torah that we celebrate this week was a definitive event in the history of the world, why was it given in a barren desert? Wouldn’t a busier, well-populated location—like Times Square or at least the Machane Yehuda shuk on a Friday—be more appropriate considering the impact that Torah has had on the world from time immemorial?
According to a commentary by the Lubavitcher Rebbe, the Torah was specifically given to the Jewish people in the desert and on Mount Sinai so that no preexisting societal prejudices or established customs of the area’s population might influence Torah on some level.
The Rebbe states that the location of the desert is meant to communicate another message as well. When you encounter people whose knowledge of Torah is non-existent, who have absolutely no Jewish education, and their vicissitudes result in a lack of knowledge on par with the emptiness and lack of growth in a desert, those are the people to whom you must reach out and teach Torah.
There’s another question about the location of Matan Torah that communicates still another message. And that is that the learning of Torah more than anything else transmits to those who study it a sense of humility. If that is the case, some commentators ask, why was the Torah given on a mountain—any mountain—at all?
The answer is that Torah study is not supposed to leave one meek or weak. The study of and the lessons of Torah teach us humility, which can be compared to one of the lowest mountains in the desert. But at the same time, along with the humility, we need the rock-solid strength of a mountain, and that is the message of Sinai.
On this yom tov we become mountain climbers, trudging our way up to hear the Ten Commandments (or at least the first two) from Hashem Himself. It’s a satisfying climb and the opportunity to reach the apex of Torah study that we know to be filled with splendor and infinity.
And finally Shavuot distinguishes itself by the fact that we make it our business on the first night of the chag to study Torah through the night. In some ways this is the high point (no pun intended) of the year. It is a unique opportunity to submerge ourselves in limud HaTorah until the sun begins to rise and a new day dawns.
The question our sages deal with is: What is the thought process involved in staying up all night? In case you are unaware, let’s review the fact that staying awake all night is, in a sense, a kapparah for the fact that when it came time to receive the Torah at Sinai, Klal Yisrael overslept. No, it was not that they were lazy or disinterested. The miscalculation was that they believed receiving Torah from Hashem entailed a level of the esoteric.
We learn that when we are asleep our spirit soars and in some way attaches itself to a heavenly loftiness. That is what the Jewish people at Sinai believed was the proper way to receive the Torah. But that was an error, so to make amends we stay up all night, once again attaching ourselves to our source. Chag sameach to all.
Read more of Larry Gordon’s articles at 5TJT.com. Follow 5 Towns Jewish Times on Facebook, Instagram, and Twitter for updates and live videos. Comments, questions, and suggestions are welcome at 5TJT.com and on Facebook, Instagram, and Twitter.