What Torah Are You Receiving This Shavuot?

 A Reflection on Worthiness, Revelation, and the Power of Listening

I love the Torah. I love Shavuot.

But there is something that perplexes me. Didn’t we already celebrate this holiday? Seven months ago, we danced with the Torah on Simchat Torah! What is the difference between these twin holidays? These holidays are so similar they are that they even share the same name—Atzeret, meaning the conclusion or cessation. Simchat Torah is celebrated on Shmini Atzeret, marking the conclusion of Sukkot, while Shavuot is referred to as Atzeret as it marks the conclusion of Passover and the counting of the Omer.

But how could it be? Twin holidays? No way!

And, of course, if we look deeper, you’ll see that, like most twins, these two holidays have a lot in common, but they also have distinct differences!

On Simchat Torah we dance with closed Torah scrolls. On Shavuot, we open them up and dive in. We immerse ourselves on Shavuot in what we call Tikkun Leil Shavuot, literally the “fixing” on the night of Shavuot. What must be fixed? Well, the Midrash teaches that when our people awaited revelation at Mount Sinai, we... got tired. Much like the exhaustion we feel after hiking three days up an ascent, the elevation change and the achiness got to us, and we overslept. Maybe we hit snooze 😴 one too many times. The journey had taken it's toll, and HaShem had to knock on our huts 🛖— and call out,“Yonati, Yonati, wake up!”

Since then, we stay up all night so we don't miss the giving of the Torah. But we are fixing much more than just the batteries in our alarm clocks. We are fixing the part of ourselves that wants to hide. The part that whispers: Who am I to receive something so holy? The part that still believes we’re not good enough, not ready enough, not whole enough to be in relationship with the Divine. Why do we metaphorically sleep away our lives? What are we scared to we will find when we meet HaShem? What are we running away from?

Maybe deep down, we wonder: Would G-d really choose me? Me—with all my doubts, all my imperfections, all my smallness? And yet, there it is: a voice in the thunder, saying yes.

Yes, you.

Not in spite of who you are, but because of who you are.

At Sinai, HaShem gave us one primary instruction: listen. 👂But we were terrified. We couldn’t imagine that G-d’s voice could be meant for us. We thought we would shatter under the weight of it. So we begged Moses to be our go-between.

You do it. You take the message. We’re going back to sleep.

During the counting of the Omer, we journey through 49 forms of divine emanation. We climb a mountain of sefirot, audaciously claiming that we have the potential for understanding of G-d. We claim to have surmounted the insurmountable. To have reached the infinite. To have drawn transcendence down.

And after having achieved the highest highs, we immerse ourselves in the scroll in order to remind ourselves how little we know—celebrating the depths of the mystery.

On Shavuot, we open the scroll.

We fix our fear and our slumber. We remember that, somehow, this mystery is my story—our story. A story that I can barely understand while I am living it. But nevertheless, a story that I am worthy to receive.

What about you?

What Torah are you receiving this year?

What story is unfolding in you that only you can hear, can tell, can carry forward?

Drop it in the comments, or bring it to your Shavuot table. We’re listening.

🌀 Chag Sameach. May your Torah be sweet like milk and honey.