Judaism
If Pesach tells us where we came from, Shavuot shows where we are going
How did the Israelites become the Jewish people? It is the story behind next week’s festival
May 30, 2025 09:00
How did the Israelites become the Jewish people? It is the story behind next week’s festival
May 30, 2025 09:00If you are a British Jew, what is your ethnicity? David Baddiel and others have compellingly argued that Jewish identity should be recognised as an ethnicity. Or is the fact that I can identify as “White British” while practising Judaism as my religion, part of the pride my family has carried being “British Jews” since coming to this country a century ago?
Our ethnicity and religion are interconnected but not identical. We see this played out through the festivals of Passover and Shavuot. Passover is the anniversary of our ethnicity; Shavuot of our religion. We became the Israelite nation when we were freed from Egypt; but at Sinai we entered into a covenant with God to be the Jewish people.
Shavuot commemorates the giving of the Torah at Sinai, which is arguably the most theocentric event in the history of the universe. As such, we would expect the narrative of the revelation at Sinai to be all about God. Yet curiously, the bookends of the narrative are totally homocentric.
The prelude to the Ten Commandments is a pedagogical instructive. Moses has ascended the mountain and God instructs him to speak with the nation. Uniquely, He says: “Thus shall you say to the house of Jacob and declare to the children of Israel”, distinguishing between the house of Jacob and the children of Israel.
Is the house of Jacob not synonymous with the children of Israel? The sages interpreted the double phraseology to refer to different groupings within the nation. Different groups require different teaching methods. “Saying” to the house of Jacob refers to teaching the Torah on a more general, macro level. “Declaring” involves a teaching style focusing on details and specifics. Judaism requires both; there can be no one-size-fits-all approach.
By preceding revelation with these words, Moses understands that in order for revelation to be received effectively, it needs to be bespoke. Good teaching requires more than just relaying information; the educator first needs to step into their students’ shoes.
The same theme of empathy runs through the epilogue to the Ten Commandments. Following a description of the miraculous thunder and fire, the Torah describes how the people approached Moses in distress.
“You speak to us,” they said to Moses, “and we will obey; but let not God speak to us, lest we die.”
In this utterance, it looks like the Israelites are rejecting revelation. What should be the apex of the Ten Commandments becomes its antithesis. While we, as readers, may skim these words with frustration, Moses shows no anger or disappointment, nor does he even attempt to persuade them to change their minds.
Rather he accedes to their request, stepping in as the intermediary between them and God. Moses may understand what it is like to feel overwhelmed by the presence of God and indeed by the mantle of responsibility.
In fact, he himself had tried to shirk responsibility when it was asked of him at the burning bush. Yet, God did not accept his refusal. He acknowledged his concerns, but ultimately pushed him to achieve his destiny. So why here, did Moses not do the same for his people? We see not one word of encouragement that with a little more grit and resilience they can overcome their fears!
When the Israelites relayed their fear, it was not just showing their weakness, but their self-knowledge. They knew that they could not cope with any more. In today’s psychological rhetoric it would be referred to as a jam-packed stress container. Or in the words of the 18th-century mystic Rabbi Chaim ibn Atar, they were questioning how effective it would be for them to continue to hear directly from God.
If revelation was about experiencing the Divine, they had now encountered that. But revelation also required listening and understanding, and they were unable to listen or understand in their current state. As much as it is a theocentric experience, its manifestation must be homocentric. How powerful is revelation if the people cannot withstand it?
Receiving the Torah was not just about being gifted with a treasure, but about entering into a covenant to become a treasure. It is a partnership, which will require unwavering faith, tireless activism and passionate love.
At Sinai God handed our nation a pathway to connect heaven and earth, a mechanism to fuse physicality and spirituality, a tool to dispel darkness with light. But for it to work, the human experience is paramount. Our engagement with the Divine is not despite our humanity but because of it.
It is remarkable that the most “religious” episode in the Bible is dominated by psychology. It tells us the importance of celebrating every individual on their own bespoke journey. It underscores the sacred task of understanding more and advocating for mental wellbeing in our communities. This is critical to generating vibrant and fulfilling Judaism.
Shavuot is the Festival of Weeks: weeks from Passover. It is the end of a process. Where Pesach commemorates our shared history, Shavuot commemorates our shared vision for the future. This is the critical relationship between ethnicity and religion.
Rabbi Sacks defined ethnicity as “where we came from”. In this spirit, religion can be seen as a compass for “where we are going”. And just as it was then, so may it be now: that our faith empowers us to stand together, united in our diversity.
Lauren Levin is rebbetzin of South Hampstead (United) Synagogue
Image: The giving of the Torah at Mount Sinai, Gustave Doré, 1870 (Getty Images)