Shavuos 5780: Torah and the Limits of Human Intellect

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Artwork: Mind Unbound, by Jason Felix

Shavuos 5780: Torah and the Limits of the Human Intellect 

The Mysterious Case of the Incomprehensible Haftarah 

The haftarah for Shavuos morning is the infamous first chapter of Sefer Yechezkel. Known as Maaseh Merkavah (the Work of the Chariot), this nevuah (prophecy) is considered to be one of the deepest and most cryptic passages in all of Tanach. Its meaning is so abstruse that there are halachos governing how and to whom it is expounded, as the mishnah in Chagigah 2:1 states: “One may not expound … on Maaseh Merkavah in the presence of [even] one [student], unless he is wise and intuitively understands with his own mind.” 

To appreciate just how incomprehensible this haftarah is, here is an excerpt: 

I looked and saw a stormy wind coming from the north, a great cloud and flashing fire, surrounded by a radiance and within it was something that looked like chashmal within the fire. Within it there were four creature-like shapes. This was how they looked: they had the shape of a human. Each had four faces, and each had four wings. Their feet were straight feet, and the bottoms of their feet were like the bottom of a calf’s hoof, sparkling like burnished bronze. [They had] human hands beneath their wings on their four sides, and the four had faces and wings; their wings were intertwined. They did not turn when they moved; each [could] move in the direction of [any of] its faces. Their faces were shaped like a man’s, with a lion’s face on the right of each of the four of them, an ox’s face on the left of the four of them, and the four of them had an eagle’s face. Their faces and wings were separated above; each had two [wings] linked to one another and two covering their bodies. Each moved in the direction of its faces. They went wherever the spirit drove them, and they did not turn as they moved. (Yechezkel 1:4-12)

Every Shavuos morning, upon the conclusion of this haftarah, someone inevitably makes a joke to the effect of, “Did you get all that?” or “Simple!” or “Crystal clear!” 

This raises a question that I have every Shavuos: If virtually nobody can understand this nevuah, and if even those who can understand it are forbidden to explain it, then why do we read it in public as the haftarah of Shavuos? And I don’t mean to ask: “What is the source?” or “What is the halachic rationale behind the selection of this haftarah?” I mean: “What is the point of reading something that is both intellectually and halachically inexplicable?” 

The Other Merkavah 

A couple centuries prior to Yechezkel’s nevuah, Yeshayahu ha’Navi also had a nevuah which is referred to as “the Merkavah.” Here it is in its entirety: 

In the year of King Uzziah’s death, I saw the Lord sitting upon a high and lofty throne, and its legs filled the Temple. Seraphim were standing above, at His service. Each one had six wings: with two it would cover its face, with two it would cover its legs, and with two it would fly. And one would call to another and say, “Kadosh, kadosh, kadosh [1] is Hashem, Master of Legions; the whole world is filled with His glory.” The doorposts moved many cubits at the sound of the calling, and the Temple became filled with smoke. (Yeshayahu 6:1-4) 

Yechezkel’s vision of the Merkavah is described in great detail over the course of 28 pesukim whereas Yeshayahu’s description is only four pesukim long. Nevertheless, Chazal maintained that Yeshayahu’s nevuah was the greater of the two, as the Gemara in Chagigah 13b states: 

Rava said: Everything that Yechezkel saw was seen by Yeshayah. To what can Yechezkel be compared? To a villager who saw the king [and for whom such a sighting was rare]. And to what can Yeshayah be compared? To a city-dweller who saw the king [and who was accustomed to seeing the king on a more frequent basis]. 

Rashi [2] explains: “a city-dweller who [frequently] sees the king isn’t bewildered and isn’t amazed, and [therefore] doesn’t care to report [what he saw in great detail].” The Radak [3] goes further, explaining the metaphor’s implications about the relative levels of these two neviim: 

In other words, Yechezkel reported the details of these phenomena because it was extremely novel to him … but Yeshayah only described them in general terms, since he was more perfected than Yechezkel and this vision wasn’t as novel to him. 

And yet, despite being the more profound of the two prophetic visions, Yeshayahu’s Merkavah is even more familiar to the average Jew than Yechezkel’s. Why? Because an embellished version of it was incorporated into the daily davening in the berachos of Krias Shema: 

[The angels] all accept upon themselves the yoke of heavenly kingship from one another, and grant permission to one another to sanctify the One Who formed them, with tranquility, with clear articulation, and with sweetness. All of them as one proclaim His kedushah and say with awe: “Kadosh, kadosh, kadosh is Hashem, Master of Legions, the whole world is filled with His glory!” (Yeshayahu 6:3). Then the Ofanim [4] and the Chayos ha’Kodesh with great noise raise themselves towards the Seraphim; facing them, they give praise, saying: “Blessed is the glory of Hashem from his place” (Yechezkel 3:12). 

Our question about the haftarah of Shavuos is even stronger if asked about this part of davening: Why did the Anshei Kneses ha’Gedolah (The Men of the Great Assembly) select one of the most recondite prophetic visions and make it a centerpiece of our daily davening? What did they expect us to understand? What Jew comprehends the distinction between Ofanim, Chayos ha’Kodesh, and Seraphim? Who understands what it means for angels to “accept upon themselves the yoke of heavenly kingship from one another” or “grant permission to one another to sanctify”? Who can explain what it means for angels “to praise” or even “to know”? 

I’m not the only one who is bothered by the inclusion of such incomprehensible statements in our davening. Ibn Ezra [5] excoriates ha’Kalir [6] and other paytanim (liturgical poets) for incorporating enigmatic statements, allegories, and sodos (deep ideas) into the prayer service. Ibn Ezra maintains that the language of tefilah should be straightforward. He writes: 

Why don’t we learn from Shlomo [ha’Melech], who was not surpassed by anyone wiser, and yet, his tefilah that he davened is readily coherent; anyone who knows Hebrew can understand it, and it contains no enigmas or metaphors. The same is true of the tefilah of Daniel, [despite the fact that he] was a “solver of riddles” (5:12). They only davened with clear statements, and they were wise men – all the more so regarding the masses of men who daven and are not wise! [7] … 

[Furthermore,] all of [ha’Kalir’s] liturgical poems are filled with aggados and midrashim [which are allegorical and contain statements that are not meant to be taken at face-value], but the Sages said: “no verse departs from its straightforward meaning.” If so, then it is not proper to daven with anything other than pshat (a straightforward meaning), [and it is not proper to daven] with something that contains a sode, or an allegory … 

Granted, Ibn Ezra’s criticisms were only directed at those paytanim who introduced their own compositions into the liturgy. He certainly wouldn’t object to the tefilos and berachos composed by the Anshei Kneses ha’Gedolah. Yet, in light of his objections to the paytanim for their use of esoteric material, one wonders why one of the most esoteric prophetic visions was made into the centerpiece of the berachos of Krias Shema for every Jew to say. What are we supposed to get out of this? 

An Answer to Our Second Question … 

I recall an answer to this last question that was given by my Rosh Yeshiva. [8] He said that the Anshei Kneses ha’Gedolah incorporated this description of the angelic host praising Hashem in order to remind us that the human intellect is not supreme. 

The Torah maintains that mankind is the greatest species on earth – the only creature with a tzelem Elokim (truth-seeking intellect capable of grasping abstract concepts). Yet, man’s mind is qualitatively inferior to that of the angels, as David ha’Melech states: “You have made [frail man] but slightly less than the angels, crowning him with soul and splendor” (Tehilim 8:6). 

Even Moshe Rabbeinu, the greatest human being who ever existed, was unable to obtain positive knowledge of Hashem, due to the limitations imposed by his physicality, as it is stated: “[Hashem] said, ‘You will not be able to see My face, for no human can see Me and live’” (Shemos 33:20). In contrast, the Rambam [9] writes about the angels: 

All of these immaterial forms (i.e. angels) are alive and comprehend the Creator, and know Him with a great and exceeding knowledge. And each and every immaterial form [knows the Creator] in accordance with its level, but not in accordance with His [true] greatness. Even the highest level [of angel] is unable to completely grasp the reality of the Creator as it really is, due to its deficient mind. 

But it comprehends and knows more than that which is grasped by the immaterial form beneath it; and likewise for each and every level, until the 10th level. And the 10th level also knows the Creator with a knowledge that human beings - who are comprised of a material body and an immaterial form - are not able to comprehend and know like it. But none [of these beings] knows the Creator as He knows Himself. 

In other words, there is a hierarchy of knowledge: animal intelligence is incapable of grasping abstract concepts; human intelligence can grasp abstract concepts, but cannot obtain positive knowledge of that which is purely immaterial; angelic intelligence can grasp that which is purely immaterial, but not fully; only the Creator truly knows Himself. 

Why is concept relevant to mention in the berachos of Krias Shema? I don’t remember what my Rosh Yeshiva said on this particular point, but I would say as follows. Krias Shema is referred to by Chazal as kabbalas ole malchus shamayim (lit. “acceptance of the yoke of heavenly kingship”), which is an acknowledgment of Hashem’s Oneness. [10] This may be the highest level knowledge we can have of the Creator, but we must not fall into the trap of thinking that it is the highest level of knowledge. By prefacing our kabbalas ole malchus shamayim with an acknowledgment of the kabbalas ole malchus shamayim of the angels, who “all accept upon themselves the yoke of heavenly kingship from one another,” we remind ourselves that as humans, our knowledge is imperfect, and we can’t even grasp what it means for the angels to have knowledge of Hashem and praise Him. 

… Which Answers Our First Question 

I believe that my Rosh Yeshiva’s answer to our second question also answers our first question. What is the point [11] of reading the Maaseh Merkavah, which almost nobody can understand, as the haftarah on Shavuos? To remind us that as much Torah we think we understand, a complete grasp of Torah is entirely beyond us. 

I wrote about this at length in my article, The Limits of Our Understanding of Torah, in which I cited the second paragraph of the Ralbag’s Introduction to Torah [12]: 

It is vital not to lose sight of the fact that it is impossible for us to completely apprehend the chochmah (wisdom) and chaninah (beneficence) which is manifest in the Torah’s existence. Rather, we have very little knowledge of this, and we are exceedingly ignorant – just as we have very little knowledge of the wisdom and beneficence which is manifest in the nature of all existing things; we apprehend very little of the chochmah in their design, as is evident to those anyone who has intensively studied the natural sciences, and who recognizes the gap between our theoretical models of the laws of the universe and their reality … It therefore follows from the fact that the Torah is divine – namely, that it is from Hashem, as is known to all people today – [that its nature will also be incompletely understood], even though it is the absolute truth. 

There is only one human being who completely understood Torah: Moshe Rabbeinu. And even his understanding was restricted by the limitations of his physicality, which prevented him from having positive knowledge Hashem. 

Shavuos is Zman Matan Toraseinu, a celebration of the giving of the Torah. [13] If we were to mistakenly think that our intellect is supreme, and that a full comprehension of the Torah is within our grasp – even theoretically, if not practically – then our view of Torah would be fundamentally flawed. Hashem set up boundaries around Har Sinai, “lest [the people] break through to Hashem to see, and a multitude will fall” (Shemos 19:21). At the event of Matan Torah there was a danger that Bnei Yisrael would overestimate their own abilities, push themselves beyond their limitations, and be irreparably harmed. The same is true in our own acceptance of Torah on a daily basis. 

On the celebration of Matan Torah we remind ourselves of our limited ability to grasp Torah by reading a passage of Torah which nobody but the most delusional and haughty individual could possibly think he or she fully understands. This reminder keeps our ego and our self-knowledge in check, which in turns, helps make us worthy to accept the Torah. 

So next time you hear Maaseh Merkavah being read in shul on Shavuos, and you find that you don't understand a single thing, remind yourself that that is precisely the point.

[1] The word “kadosh” is typically translated as “holy,” which is an anathema to me. Seeing as how ק.ד.ש. means “separate” and in relation to Hashem it means “separate from physicality,” I prefer to translate “kadosh” as “transcendent” – but if I translated “kadosh, kadosh, kadosh” as “transcendent, transcendent, transcendent,” then I’d get weird looks from people in shul.
[2] Rabbeinu Shlomo ben Yitzchak (Rashi), Commentary on Chagiga 13b
[3] Rabbeinu David Kimchi (Radak), Commentary on Sefer Yeshayahu 6:1
[4] “Ofanim,” “Chayos ha’Kodesh,” and “Seraphim” are types of angels. See Rabbeinu Moshe ben Maimon (Rambam / Maimonides), Mishneh Torah: Sefer ha’Mada, Hilchos Yesodei ha’Torah 2:7 for a comprehensive list and ranking.
[5] Rabbeinu Avraham ibn Ezra, Commentary on Sefer Koheles 5:1
[6] From Wikipedia: “Eleazar ben Kalir, also known as Eleazar HaKalir, Eleazar ben Killir or Eleazar Kalir (c. 570 – c. 640) was a Byzantine Jew and a Hebrew poet whose classical liturgical verses, known as piyut, have continued to be sung through the centuries during significant religious services.”
[7] I expect someone to object to my reading of the Ibn Ezra on the grounds that he’s referring specifically to using metaphors like referring to Hashem as a lion (based on Hoshea 11:10) or fire (based on Devarim 4:24). Yes, one can argue that his critique is limited to a specific kind of metaphor-usage. Nevertheless, one can also argue that this objection stems from the sort of nitpicking which misses the main point. That’s my argument.
[8] Regrettably, I do not recall where, when, or in what context I heard this explanation. I hope I am conveying it accurately, but it is entirely possible that I am not. Take it with a grain of salt.
[9] Rabbeinu Moshe ben Maimon (Rambam / Maimonides), Mishneh Torah: Sefer ha’Mada, Hilchos Yesodei ha’Torah
[10] See Rabbeinu Moshe ben Maimon (Rambam / Maimonides), Sefer ha’Mitzvos: Mitzvas Aseh #2. Incidentally, if anyone tries to claim that kabbalas ole malchus shamayim refers to the acceptance of mitzvos, this line from tefilah is a good disproof. The angels most definitely know God’s Oneness, but they do not “accept” His mitzvos.
[11 Again I will remind you that I am NOT answering the question, “What is the halachic rationale for this reading?” I am answering the practical question, “What are we supposed to get out of it?”
[12]Rabbeinu Levi ben Gershon (Ralbag / Gersonides), Commentary on Sefer Bereishis: Introduction to Torah
[13] Among other things. See my article Shavuos is NOT About Matan Torah for other views.

Shavuos 5779 / Bamidbar: Mishkan and Sinai

As you will soon see, this post did NOT come together in the end as I had hoped. I debated whether to share it publicly at all and decided that I might as well post it, in hopes that it might one day lead to the next step in the inquiry. I hope you find some value in it.  

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Artwork: Mountain (M10), by Nils Hamm

Shavuos 5779 / Bamidbar: Mishkan and Sinai

Ramban's Theory

In his introduction to Sefer Bamidbar the Ramban presents a theory about the relationship between the Mishkan (Tabernacle) and Har Sinai (Mt. Sinai). Here is the first paragraph of the Ramban's introduction, with my own paragraph breaks for clarity:

After explaining the system of korbanos (sacrifices) in the third book (i.e. Sefer Vayikra), He now begins, in this book, to arrange the mitzvos that were commanded in the matter of the Tent of Meeting. He has already warned for all generations against defiling the Mikdash (Sanctuary) and its sanctified objects, and now: 

He set boundaries around the Mishkan while it is in the Wilderness just as He set boundaries around Har Sinai when the kavod Hashem (Glory of Hashem) was there. 

He commanded [regarding the Mishkan]: "and any stranger who approaches shall die" (Bamidbar 3:38) just as He said there [regarding Sinai]: "[a hand shall not touch it] for he shall surely be stoned" (Shemos 19:13). 

He commanded [regarding the Mishkan]: "but they shall not come and look as the holy is inserted, lest they die" (Bamidbar 4:20) just as He warned there [regarding Sinai]: "lest they break through to Hashem to see, and a multitude of them will fall" (Shemos 19:21). 

He commanded [regarding the Mishkan]: "You shall safeguard the charge of the holy and the charge of the altar" (Bamidbar 19:21) just as He said [regarding Sinai]: "even the Kohanim who approach Hashem should be prepared ... but the Kohanim and the people - they shall not break through [to ascend]" (Shemos 19:22-24). 

Behold, He commanded further how the safeguarding of the Mishkan and its vessels shall be and how they shall encamp around [the Mishkan] and [how] "the people shall stand from afar" (cf. Shemos 20:18) and how "the Kohanim who approach Hashem" (cf. Shemos 19:22) shall conduct themselves when [the Mishkan] is at rest and being transported, and what they shall do for its safeguarding. All of this is a distinction and an honor for the Mishkan, as [Chazal] said: "a king's palace that has guards is incomparable to a palace without guards" (Sifrei Zuta, Korach 18:4).

The Ramban also introduces Sefer Vayikra with a summary of this theory:

This book is the law for the Kohanim and the Leviim. In it He clarifies the matters regarding all the sacrifices and the safeguarding of the Mishkan, for as the other book (i.e. Sefer Shemos) was concerning the [Egyptian] exile and the redemption from it and He completed it with the matter of the Tent of Meeting and the kavod Hashem that filled the Mishkan, [now] He commanded regarding the korbanos and the safeguarding of the Mishkan, so that the sacrifices should be an atonement for them so that their sins should not cause the departure of the shechinah. And He commanded regarding "the Kohanim who approach Hashem," that "they should be sanctified" (cf. Shemos 19:22) for He warned [them] against the defiling of the Mikdash and its sacrificial foods. And also that they should "not break through to ascend to Hashem" (cf. Shemos 19:24) as He said: "Speak to Aharon, your brother - [he shall not come at all times into the Sanctuary, within the Curtain, in front of the Cover that is upon the Ark, so that he should not die]" (Vayikra 16:2), which is comparable to the warning given [at Sinai]: "lest they break through to Hashem to see, and a multitude of them will fall" (Shemos 19:21). And He set boundaries around the Mishkan like the boundaries set for Har Sinai at the time that the kavod of the God of Israel was there.

The Ramban's theory is clear: the setup of the Mishkan (and the surrounding Camp) is designed to reflect and recall the setup of Har Sinai. Both the Mishkan and Sinai have boundaries. Breaching the boundaries results in death. In both scenarios the people are warned not to look at holy phenomena. The need for safeguarding applied to both the Mishkan and Sinai. The spacing in the Camp of the Kohanim and the Israelites parallels their spacing during the event at Sinai.

But there's more to the Ramban's theory than that. The crux of his theory was stated much earlier, in his introduction to Parashas Terumah (Shemos 25:1), where he explains the purpose of the Mishkan. He writes:

When Hashem spoke with Israel "face to face" (Devarim 5:4) [telling them] the Decalogue and commanding them through Moshe in some mitzvos as universal categories for the [rest of] the Torah's mitzvos - just as our Sages of blessed memory enacted as a practice with converts who seek to become Jewish - and Israel accepted upon themselves to do whatever He would command them through Moshe Rabbeinu, peace be upon him, He [consequently] made a covenant with them regarding all this. Now they had become a people unto Him and He had become their God, as He stipulated with them at first: "and now, if you hearken well to Me and you will observe My covenant, you shall be to Me the most beloved treasure of all peoples, for Mine is the entire world" (Shemos 19:5) and He said: "You shall be to Me a kingdom of kohanim and a holy nation" (ibid. 19:6). Thus, they were holy and worthy for there to be a Mikdash in their midst, [a place for Hashem] to rest His shechinah (indwelling) among them. Therefore, He first commanded regarding the matter of the Mishkan, so that He would have an abode among them sanctified to His Name, and there He would speak with Moshe and command Bnei Yisrael.

Behold! The main objective of the Mishkan is as a place for the resting of the shechinah, which was [atop] the Ark, as He said: "it is there that I will meet with you, and I shall speak with you from atop the cover [... on the Ark]" (ibid. 25:22) ... 

The esoteric significance of the Mishkan is that the kavod that rested upon Har Sinai [when the Torah was given] should rest upon [the Mishkan] in a concealed manner. And just as it was stated there [regarding Sinai:] "the kavod Hashem rested upon Har Sinai" (ibid. 24:16) and it is written: "Behold! Hashem, our God, has shown us His kavod and His greatness" (Devarim 5:21), and He mentioned twice regarding the Mishkan: "the kavod of Hashem filled the Mishkan" (ibid. and in 25:35), parallel to "His kavod" and "His greatness" [mentioned at Sinai]. And the kavod that was seen at Sinai remained constantly with Israel in the Mishkan, and whenever Moshe entered [the Mishkan] he would receive the same [type of] communication that was spoken to him at Sinai. 

And just as it was said regarding the Giving of the Torah: "from heaven He caused you to hear His voice in order to teach you, and on earth He showed you His great fire" (Devarim 4:36), so too regarding the Mishkan it is written: "he heard the voice speaking to him from atop the cover [that was upon the Ark of the Testimony] from between the two Keruvim (Cherubim), and He spoke to him" (Bamidbar 7:89). The words "and He spoke to him" are repeated [at the end of that pasuk] in order to convey what [the Sages] said by way of tradition that the voice would come from heaven to above the Ark-cover and speak to Moshe from there. For every communication with Moshe originated in heaven during the day and was heard from between the Keruvim in a manner similar to [the Giving of the Torah, of which it is written:] "and you heard His words from the midst of the fire" (Devarim 4:36). This is why [the Keruvim] were both made of gold. Likewise, Scripture stated: "[at the entrance of the Tent of Meeting, before Hashem,] where I shall meet with you to speak to you there ... and it will be sanctified with My glory" (Shemos 29:42-43) for that was to be the meeting place for communication, and it would be "sanctified with My glory."

There are many subtle points being made here, but the main idea is clear: the purpose of the Mishkan is to house the Ark, which is a resting place for the kavod - or shechinah - that descended upon Sinai; this kavod is also the place from where Hashem would speak to Moshe in the Wilderness, as it spoke to Bnei Yisrael at Sinai.

That, in a nutshell, is the Ramban's theory. Now we need to understand it.

[My Failure in] Understanding the Meaning of the Ramban's Theory

The Ramban's theory is adequately supported by the pshat (straightforward reading) of the pesukim he cited. The question is: What does he mean? What is his understanding of the kavod Hashem that descended on Sinai and filled the Mishkan? What is the relationship between the singular Divine communication at Sinai and the day-to-day communication with Moshe at the entrance of the Tent of Meeting during the 40 years in the Wilderness? What is the purpose of this parallel setup of Sinai and the Mishkan in the Camp?

When I set out to an answer to this question, I figured that the best way to find answers would be to look up the Ramban's commentary on the pesukim he cited. Much to my dismay, the vast majority of these pesukim contain scant commentary from the Ramban. The few pesukim on which he elaborated only added to my confusion. For example, on the pasuk: "The cloud covered the Tent of Meeting, and kavod Hashem filled the Mishkan" (Shemos 40:34) the Ramban explains:

"the kavod Hashem filled the Mishkan" - because the inside of it was filled with the kavod, because the kavod dwelled inside the cloud which was inside the Mishkan, as it was stated in regards to Har Sinai: "[Moshe approached] the thick cloud, where God was" (Shemos 20:18).

Similarly, when I looked up the Ramban's comments on the first pasuk of Sefer Vayikra in hopes that he'd clarify how Hashem spoke to Moshe from the entrance of the Tent of Meeting, this is what I found:

The pasuk here says: "He called to Moshe and Hashem spoke to him" but doesn't say this in other places, because [here] "Moshe was not able to enter the Tent of Meeting" (cf. Shemos 40:35) to approach the place "where God was" (cf. Shemos 20:18) except by means of a summons that [Hashem] called out to him, for it had already been said to Moshe: "[It is there that I will meet with you,] and I shall speak with you from atop the Cover, from between the two Keruvim [that are on the Ark]" (ibid. 25:22) "where I will meet with you" (ibid. 30:6). And since he knew that God is "enthroned upon the Keruvim" (cf. I Divrei ha'Yamim 13:6), he was fearful of entering the Tent of Meeting at all, until He would call to him, just as [He had done] at Har Sinai, where it says: "He called to Moshe on the seventh day form the midst of the cloud" (ibid. 24:16). 

The Ramban's cryptic comments like these only added to my confusion, while simultaneously reinforcing the prominence of his theory. The more I looked for explanations, the more questions and problems I encountered. 

These difficulties are due in large part to obscure and esoteric nature of subject matter here. The kavod Hashem at Sinai and over the Ark, the nature of the revelation at Sinai and Moshe's prophecy, the purpose of the Mishkan and its vessels - each of these topics is a metaphysical rabbit hole unto itself, and the Ramban's theory deals with ALL of them in conjunction! 

The Success of Failing to Understand

Just as I was ready to give up on this topic, it suddenly dawned on me: "I don't understand these topics ... but that's kind of the point here, isn't it?" All of these topics have one thing in common: they all reside at the outermost boundaries of human understanding, and force us to confront the limitations of our own mind.

This point is the most obvious with regards to the kavod Hashem at Sinai. The whole point of setting boundaries around Har Sinai was to prevent people from drawing near, "lest they break through to Hashem to see" (Shemos 19:21) - that is, to intellectually apprehend Hashem's kavod. The Rambam devotes an entire chapter of the Moreh ha'Nevuchim (1:5) to lauding the virtue of restraint in man's attempt to apprehend the Divine, as exemplified by the proper conduct of Moshe Rabbeinu at the Burning Bush, and condemning the improper conduct of the Atzilei Bnei Yisrael (Nobles of the Children of Israel) at Sinai: 

When the chief of the philosophers began to investigate very obscure matters and to attempt a proof concerning them, he excused himself by making a statement of the meaning of which was as follows. A student of his books should not, because of the subject of these researches, ascribe to him effrontery, temerity, and an excess of haste to speak of matters of which he had no knowledge; but rather he should ascribe to him the desire and the endeavor to acquire and achieve true beliefs to the extent to which this is in the power of man. In the same way we say that man should not hasten too much to accede to this great and sublime matter at the first try, without having made his soul undergo training in the sciences and the different kinds of knowledge, having truly improved his character, and having extinguished the desires and cravings engendered in him by his imagination. When, however, he has achieved and acquired knowledge of true and certain premises and has achieved knowledge of the rules of logic and interference and of the various ways of preserving himself from errors of the mind, he then should engage in the investigation of this subject. When doing this he should not make categorical affirmations in favor of the first opinion that occurs to him and should not, from the outset, strain and impel his thoughts toward the apprehension of the Creator; he rather should feel awe and refrain and hold back until he gradually elevates himself.  

It is in this sense that it is said: "And Moshe hid his face, for he was afraid to look upon God" (Shemos 3:6) - this being an additional meaning of the pasuk over and above its external meaning that indicates that he hid his face because of his being afraid to look upon the light manifesting himself - and not that Hashem, Who is greatly exalted above every deficiency, can be apprehended by the eyes. [Moshe], peace be upon him, was commended for this; and God, may He be exalted, let overflow upon him so much of His bounty and goodness that it became necessary to say of him: "And the image of Hashem shall he look upon" (Bamidbar 12:8). Chazal (Berachos 7a) have stated that this is a reward for his having at first "hidden his face" so as "not to look upon God."  

The Atzilei Bnei Yisrael, on the other hand, were overly hasty, strained their thoughts, and achieved apprehension, but only an imperfect one. Hence it is said of them: "And they saw the God of Israel, and there was under His feet [the likeness of sapphire brickwork, and it was like the essence of the heaven in purity]" (Shemos 24:10) and not merely: "And they saw the God of Israel." For these words are solely intended to present a criticism of their act of seeing, not to describe the manner of their seeing. Thus they were solely blamed for the form that their apprehension took inasmuch as corporeality entered into it to some extent - this being necessitated by their overhasty rushing forward before they had reached perfection. They deserved to perish, but [Moshe], peace be upon him, interceded for them, and they were granted a reprieve until the time they were burnt at Taveirah, whereas Nadav and Avihu were burnt at the Tent of Meeting, as is stated in a correct tradition.  

This having happened to these men, it behooves us, all the more, as being inferior to them, and it behooves those who are inferior to us, to aim at and engage in perfecting our knowledge of preparatory matters and in achieving those premises that purify apprehension of its impurity, which is error. [Only] then may one approach the divine and holy station. It is accordingly said: "And also the Kohanim who approach Hashem should be prepared, lest Hashem burst forth against them" (Shemos 19:22). Accordingly, Shlomo has bidden the man who wishes to reach this rank to be most cautious, warning by way of allegory: "guard your foot when you go to the house of God" (Koheles 4:17).  

I shall now go back in order to complete what we began to explain, and I shall say: Because of the hindrances that were a stumbling block to the Nobles of the Children of Israel  in their apprehension, their actions were also troubled; because of the corruption of their apprehension, they inclined toward matters of the body. Hence it says: "And they gazed at God, and they ate and they drank" (Shemos 24:11) ...

The need for intellectual restraint applies not only to the kavod Hashem at Sinai, but to the revelation itself, which was a one-time occurrence - "a great voice, never to be repeated" (Devarim 5:19) - and which utterly overwhelmed those who heard it, causing them to exclaim:

"Behold! Hashem, our God, has shown us His glory and His greatness, and we have heard His voice from the midst of the fire; this day we saw that Hashem will speak to a person and he can live. But now, why should we die when this great fire consumes us? If we continue to hear the voice of Hashem, our God, any longer, we will die! For is there any human that has heard the voice of the living God speaking from the midst of the fire, as we have, and lived?" (ibid. 5:21-23).

Regarding the unfathomable character of that revelation, the Rambam (Moreh ha'Nevuchim 2:33) writes:

It is impossible to expound on the Gathering at Mount Sinai to a greater extent than Chazal spoke about it, for it is one of the sisrei Torah (mysteries of Torah). The true reality of that apprehension and its modality are quite hidden from us, for nothing like it happened before and [nothing like it] will happen after.  

And if, as the Ramban suggests, this voice at Sinai is the same as (or related to) the voice that spoke with Moshe at the entrance of the Tent of Meeting from between the two Keruvim on top of the Ark, then that voice is also shrouded in the same type of mystery. 

The same goes for the nature of Moshe's nevuah. Not only does the Rambam repeatedly emphasize the difference between Moshe's nevuah and that of the other neviim, but he even goes so far as to write (ibid. 2:35):

I will let you know that everything I say on [the topic of] nevuah in these chapters of this treatise refers only to the form of nevuah of all the neviim who were before Moshe and who will come after him. As for the nevuah of Moshe Rabbeinu, I shall not touch upon it in these chapters with even a single word, either in an explicit fashion or in a flash. For to my mind, the term "navi" used with reference to Moshe and to the others is equivocal. The same applies, in my opinion, to his miracles and to the miracles of others, for his miracles do not belong to the class of the miracles of the other neviim. 

And even the Mishkan itself, which is in the realm of mitzvos - and, therefore, theoretically within our understanding - is treated by the Rishonim as an esoteric topic that should be approached with extreme reticence and intellectual humility. The Sefer ha'Chinuch, who provides reasons for all of the mitzvos, prefaces his explanation of Mishkan (Mitzvah #95) with the following reverent disclaimer:

What lies at the root of this mitzvah you will see [below] after these words of mine. Indeed, I have a great fear of drawing close to the Mishkan Hashem [to provide an explanation for it], for I know that "everyone who comes near, who comes near" (Bamidbar 17:28) if he has not adequately sanctified himself, will not see the house and live (cf. Shemos 33:20 regarding knowledge of Hashem's essence: "for man cannot see Me and live"). "And also the Kohanim who approach Hashem" for service "should sanctify themselves" as they come into the holiness within; and my brethren "the Leviim purified themselves ... and Aharon raised them up in an offering" (Bamidbar 8:21) before they would raise their voices in the Temple of Hashem. Yet, I said: "Let me also speak my thought and present my apology before my elders, and I will "wash my hands in innocence" (Tehilim 73:13) before I go up to the House of Hashem.

Thus it is clear that the difficulty I faced in my investigation of this topic was to be expected. All of the topics that comprise the Ramban's theory about the Mishkan and Sinai are exceedingly recondite, and it is highly unlikely for someone of my low caliber to expect to attain a fundamental comprehension of such lofty concepts. 

Upon realizing that the roadblock I encountered was an inherent part of the investigation I embarked upon - "a feature, not a bug," as they say - my central question shifted. Rather than attempting to understand the elements of the Ramban's theory, I instead began to wonder: What is the purpose of setting up the Mishkan and the Camp to reflect the most incomprehensible phenomena known to man? 

Consider the elements of the Pesach Seder, which are set up to remind us of events and concepts related to the Yetzias Mitzrayim (Exodus from Egypt). Matzah reminds us of the redemption; Maror reminds us of the bitterness; drinking four cups reminds us that we are freemen. These readily accessible elements of the Seder connect us to readily accessible ideas which benefit us by their contemplation. Compare that to the Mishkan and Camp, which is set up to remind us of concepts that are all but incomprehensible to even the most erudite individuals in the nation! What, exactly, does this accomplish? 

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Unfortunately, it appears that I'm going to run out of time before I can finish working out an answer and finishing this post. Shavuos is almost upon us, and  I want to think about this some more because I don't yet feel that I have an adequate answer. I will share one thought that occurred to me. 

Dwelling with the Unknowable

Rabbeinu Bachya ibn Paquda (Chovos ha'Levavos 1:10) writes:

The ultimate result of your knowledge of God should be the confession and conviction that of His glorious Essence you are completely ignorant. If you form in your mind or imagination a picture or representation of the Creator, strive to investigate His Being; and then you will be convinced of His existence, and all likenesses of Him will be rejected by you, so that you will find Him through reasoning alone.

We worship a Being Who is completely incomprehensible to us. This Being manifested His incomprehensible kavod to us at Sinai, spoke to us in a meaningful manner through a type of communication whose nature is completely incomprehensible to us, gave us His Torah through His prophet through a form of nevuah which is completely incomprehensible to us, then commanded us to build for Him a Mishkan, so that His incomprehensible kavod can dwell among us, speaking in its incomprehensible manner to the navi whose nevuah is absolutely incomprehensible. 

It is easy and natural for us to focus on aspects of Torah that we do know or can know, but we mustn't lose sight of that which we can't know. To be a Jew is to follow a religion entirely centered around knowledge which centers around an unknowable core. The setup of the Camp was designed as a constant reminder of these unknowable foundations: Hashem, His kavod, His navi, His voice, His indwelling in the Mishkan. 

We no longer live in the Camp in the Wilderness, but we do still dwell alongside these great unknowns. This Shavuos let us reflect on the significance of such a life - one devoted to maximizing each of our potentials as a knowledge-seeking being, with full awareness of the limits of our knowledge. 

My Grandfather and the Volcano Goddess

Disclaimer: As you can see by its label, this blog post is in the "musings" category, and is different from most of what I write. As a ger (convert), I sometimes have moments when I think about the different direction my life could have gone had I not encountered the Jewish teachers I met at the critical points in my development. This post started off as one of those musings, and I decided to see what would happen if I articulated these thoughts in writing.

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photo of a volcanic eruption at Mt. Kilauea,
claimed by some to be a photo of Pele, the goddess of volcanoes

My Grandfather and the Volcano Goddess

Introduction

Hawaii has a special place in my heart. I was born in Hawaii. My mom was born in Hawaii. My grandparents on my mom's side of the family were born in Hawaii. Even my great-grandfather was born in Hawaii. I grew up there. My mom's whole side of the family lives there. I've visited my grandmother there almost every year since I was a teenager. 

On Thursday, May 3, I received an emergency notification on my phone: "Mt. Kilauea is erupting." The volcano had been showing increased activity since 1983, but this last round seems to have gotten more news coverage than others in recent memory. Although my grandmother lives on Oahu, and will not likely be affected by the volcanic events on the Big Island, the news of the eruption still felt close to home.

Kilauea is not the only fiery mountain that has been on my mind for the past few weeks. There is another, which is even closer to home: Har Sinai. 

The connection between these two mountains in my mind has less to do with their fire and more to do with their association to the divine within their respective nations. For Jews, Sinai's significance lies in the singular revelation of Hashem and the giving of His Torah. Lehavdil, the ancient Hawaiians viewed every volcanic eruption as a manifestation of Pele, the volcano goddess.

(Halachic reminder: it is prohibited to verbalize the name of an avodah zarah deity. I have decided to use the name of this Hawaiian deity in writing, but if you plan on talking about it, the recommended course of action is to either avoid saying the name, or to come up with a derogatory nickname, like "Poopy" - which is probably what Eliyahu ha'Navi would have called her, given his track record of mocking false gods using bathroom humor.) 

According to Wikipedia: "In the Hawaiian religion, Pele, the Fire Goddess, is the goddess of fire, lightning, wind and volcanoes and the creator of the Hawaiian Islands." Pele came up in an article I read this week about how the current volcanic activity on Kilauea is viewed by some Hawaiians even today. The article reports: 

As threats from the latest Kilauea eruptions continue in Puna, many speak of the dramatic lava flows as the work of Pele, the goddess of fire and volcanoes. 

These Native Hawaiians and other Hawaii residents accept the volcanic activity that has consumed 36 structures and displaced hundreds of residents as demonstrations of Pele’s power and beauty. And there is no way to stop her. 

Pelehonuamea, or Pele of the sacred earth, is also known as “ka wahine ai honua,” woman who devours the land. She is also called Madame Pele or Tutu Pele. 

“I usually use Tutu Pele because she’s an ancestor to me and one of our family aumakua, or family guardian, so we have great respect for her,” said Lilikala Kame‘eleihiwa, a professor at the Kamakakuokalani Center for Hawaiian Studies on the University of Hawaii’s Manoa campus. “We have a personal relationship with Pele” ... 

Kame‘eleihiwa said those who feel they have a relationship to Pele may put markers at the boundaries of their property hoping she will spare it. Others may clean out their homes and leave hookupu, or gifts, for her ... 

Kame‘eleihiwa was on her way to Tahiti this weekend to visit the birthplace of Pele, where she planned to offer a prayer and a gift of Hawaiian salt.

My mind kept on returning to this article throughout the week leading up to Shavuos. I started musing on various themes which overlapped the Hawaiian belief in Pele's revelation at Kilauea, and our conviction in Hashem's revelation at Sinai (the term "lehavdil" should be inserted throughout this blog post).

I decided to write a blog post about three of these musings. 

Fear of Hashem vs. Fear of Pele

Unlike many of my Jewish and non-Jewish friends, I was not raised with any superstitious beliefs. Neither of my parents are superstitious, and neither were their parents - at least, not that I know of. Judging by the stories I hear from my friends about their upbringings, I really dodged the bullet on this one.

There are only two incidents in my memory of any of my close family members exhibiting superstitious beliefs, and both of them stemmed from the same superstition: Pele's Curse. According to Wikipedia:

Pele's Curse is the belief that anything natively Hawaiian, such as sand, rock, or pumice, will effect bad luck on whoever takes it away from Hawaii. The myth has caught on, told as if it were an original Hawaiian taboo, and every year countless tourists send these back in order to escape the awful luck that Pele has caused them.

I first heard about this when I was a kid, when I traveled to the Big Island with my grandfather. We went on a couple of hikes around the crater at Hawaii Volcanoes National Park, and when we were about to leave I showed him a cool volcanic rock I found, that I planned on taking home as a souvenir. "Leave that here" he said, "or Pele will bring bad luck." I don't remember the dialogue exactly, but I probably asked him who Pele was, and he probably told me that she is the volcano goddess, and that she doesn't let people remove rocks from her mountain.

But my grandfather didn't stop there. He proceeded to tell me a story about a friend of his who tried taking volcanic rock back home with him after a hike near a volcano. He was on his way back to his car but was stopped by none other than Pele's daemonic white dog, who blocked the path and wouldn't let him pass. Lo and behold, when he emptied his pockets of the rocks, the dog left him alone. 

Although I was not a superstitious child, and didn't believe my grandfather's tale, he definitely did (since he was eager to believe things like this), and because of this, he made me leave the rocks behind. 

Fast-forward 15-20 years later. My family visited the Big Island and went to that same national park. This time I noticed something that was probably there when I was a kid, but escaped my attention: food offerings to Pele (which I now know are called "hookupu"), placed near the crater. I have no idea who brought these offerings, and whether they did so out of custom, out of religious belief, or out of some mixture of the two. 

When we were about to leave, I picked up a volcanic rock to take home as a souvenir. My mom said something to the effect of, "You can't take that home. It's bad luck." I was shocked. This was the first time I had ever heard my mom utter anything even remotely superstitious. Since this was years after we had all converted to Judaism, and since my mom was well aware of the Torah's stance on avodah zarah and superstition, I called her out on it, asking if she really believed in what she said. As though shaking off a sorcerer's spell, she immediately realized the stupidity in what she had said, and then proceeded to give me a different rationale for leaving the rock behind - namely, that it's illegal to take rocks from a U.S. national park. 

I think it's safe to say that neither my mom nor my grandfather actually believed in Pele. My mom certainly didn't harbor this belief, and even my grandfather - a quasi-lapsed Catholic - probably wouldn't admit to harboring such a belief, if asked directly. And yet, both of them had an instinctive fear at the prospect of violating this Hawaiian taboo. In my grandfather's case this fear had melded with his own quirky view of the way the world works: everyone needs to visit Hawaii, everyone should start their own business, everything in Reader's Digest is 100%, bee honey cures every type of malady, and if you take volcanic rocks home, Pele will bring bad luck, or send her daemon dog to stop you. In my mom's case, the fear manifested as the vestige of a taboo that was probably inculcated into her by my grandfather when she was just a child. 

Thinking about this primitive "fear of Pele" - as displayed by my grandfather and my mother in a mild form, and by the native Hawaiians (like Lilikala Kame‘eleihiwa of the article) in an extreme form - led me to associate to a different type of fear: the yiras Hashem (fear of God) at Sinai: 

The entire people saw the thunder and the flames, the sound of the shofar, and the smoking mountain; the people saw and trembled and stood from afar. They said to Moshe: "You speak to us and we shall hear; let God not speak to us lest we die."

Moshe said to the people: "Do not fear (אַל תִּירָאוּ), for in order to elevate you has God come; so that the fear of Him shall be upon your faces (וּבַעֲבוּר תִּהְיֶה יִרְאָתוֹ עַל פְּנֵיכֶם), so that you shall not sin." The people stood from afar and Moshe approached the thick cloud where God was. 

This contradiction is impossible to ignore: first Moshe tells them "do not fear" but then he says that "the fear of Him shall be upon your faces"! 

The answer is clear: there must be two different types of fear: one which Moshe urged Bnei Yisrael not to have, and the other which was one of the very reasons why the entire revelation at Sinai took place. What are these two types of fear?

The first type of fear is a primal, instinctive, animalistic reaction - in this case, Bnei Yisrael's fear that they were going to die. Rationally speaking, this type of fear was misplaced. They knew that Hashem was not planning on killing them, and that as long as they followed His instructions and stayed within the boundaries, they had nothing to be afraid for their lives. Moshe pointed this out to them, saying: "Do not fear, for in order to elevate you has God come." This injunction highlights their mistaken underlying premise. It is as if he said to them: "I understand that you are afraid, but this fear that you are currently experiencing does not reflect the reality of the situation. You might feel that you are in danger, but in actuality, the opposite is true: you are being elevated. But in order for this elevation to take place, you must see through the falsehood of your primal fear."

The second type of fear is the yiras Hashem which the Sinai experience was intended to instill in the nation of Israel. This is the same yiras Hashem which was subsequently given as a commandment in the Torah, which Moshe later says is "the only thing Hashem asks of you." This yiras Hashem is eloquently defined by the Rambam in the Mishneh Torah alongside his definition of ahavas Hashem (love of God):

What is the way of loving and fearing God? When a person contemplates His great and wondrous works and creations and sees from them His infinite and incomparable wisdom, he immediately loves, praises, and extols and is filled with a great desire to know the Great Name, as David said: “My soul thirsts for God, for the living God” (Psalms 42:3).  

And when he reflects on these same principles in relation to himself, he immediately recoils back with fear and dread, and knows that he is a small, insignificant, unenlightened creature standing with a frail and puny mind in the presence of Perfect Knowledge, as David said: “[When I behold Your heavens, the work of Your fingers, the moon and stars that you have set in place, I exclaim,] ‘What is frail man that You should notice him, [and the son of mortal man that You should take note of him?’]” (Psalms 8:4-5).

This is the type of fear that Moshe told Bnei Yisrael to internalize. According to the pesukim cited above, the Sinai experience was not intended solely in order to provide experiential and historical evidence for Mosaic prophecy. It was also intended to create a foundational national experience of yiras Hashem - the awareness of man's status as a frail creature who forms an infinitesimally small part of the universe that Hashem created. This yirah will, in turn, prevent man from sinning. This can happen on three levels:

Level #1 - Fear of Punishment: On the most elementary level, a person will be afraid of Divine punishment - whatever his or her conception of that may be. Having seen, heard, and experienced the awesome and terrifying Revelation of the Shechinah at Sinai, he or she will think twice before violating God's law. Even if the person's grasp of Divine punishment is immature, incomplete, or flawed, it will at least be rooted in the historical reality of the event at Sinai, when Hashem demonstrated His might to the entire people. 

Level #2 - Fear of Consequences: On a more mature level, this type of yiras Hashem - rooted in the awareness that we live in a world governed by rational, lawful principles of cause and effect - will lead to a development of a chochmah-centered approach to decision-making based on anticipation of natural consequences. This is the type of yiras Hashem that Shlomo is referring to when he says: "Fear of Hashem is the discipline of wisdom" (Mishlei 15:33). 

Level #3 - Awe of Hashem: On the highest level, this type of yiras Hashem will lead to the awe of the Creator - as defined by the Rambam in the halacha cited above - which will naturally give way to ahavas Hashem via the continued pursuit of chochmah.

Now, compare the two fears, experienced by my avos (forefathers) on both sides of my family: the fear of Pele as experienced my grandfather, and the fear of Hashem as experienced by my ancestors who stood at Sinai. The fear of Pele is a primitive, superstitious, detrimental fear rooted in childish imaginations and psychological insecurities, whereas the fear of Hashem is a mature, reality-based, developmentally beneficial fear rooted in the intellectual apprehension of the laws of nature, and their Author.

As I thought about these two mountains - Kilauea and Sinai - and the two deities (lehavdil) who were feared and revered by their respective nations, I became filled with a deep gratitude to Hashem for enabling me to join the Jewish people and to embrace a chochmah-centered life governed by the Torah regimen.

And this past Shavuos, "zman matan Toraseinu" ("the time of the giving of our Torah"), I truly meant it when I thanked Hashem "she'hechyeanu, v'kiyemanu, ve'higiyanu la'zman ha'zeh" ("for giving us life, for preserving us, and for enabling us to reach this time").

You Saw No Image

In thinking about Kilauea vs. Sinai, I couldn't help but associate to another phenomenon: the seeing of a "divine image" in the fire of the mountain. Take a look at the picture at the beginning of this article. This photo gained notoriety because people claim to see the likeness of Pele in the eruption. Similarly, Hawaiians believed that "[Pele's] body is the lava and steam that comes from the volcano" (Wikipedia). This article and this video show that Pele sightings are as common today as they were in ancient times. 

Compare this with Moshe Rabbeinu's recap of the Revelation at Sinai to Bnei Yisrael before his passing:

Only beware for yourself and greatly beware for your soul, lest you forget the things that your eyes have beheld and lest you remove them from your hear all the days of your life, and make them known to your children and your children's children - the day that you stood before Hashem, your God, at Horeb, when Hashem said to me, "Gather the people to Me and I shall let them hear My words, so that they shall learn to fear Me all the days that they live on the earth, and they shall teach their children." 

So you approached and stood at the foot of the mountain, and the mountain was burning with fire up to the heart of heaven, darkness, cloud, and thick cloud. Hashem spoke to you from the midst of the fire; you were hearing the sound of words, but you were not seeing a form, only a sound. 

He told you of His covenant that He commanded you to observe, the Ten Declarations, and He inscribed them on two stone Tablets. Hashem commanded me at that time to teach you decrees and ordinances, that you shall perform them in the Land to which you cross, to possess it. 

But you shall greatly beware for your souls, for you did not see any likeness on the day Hashem spoke to you at Horeb, from the midst of the fire, lest you act corruptly and make yourselves a carved image, a likeness of any shape; a form of a male or a female; a form of any animal on the earth; a form of any winged bird that flies in the heaven; a form of anything that creeps on the ground, a form of any fish that is in the water under the earth; and lest you raise your eyes to heaven and you see the sun, and the moon, and the stars - the entire legion of heaven - and you be drawn away and bow to them and worship them, which Hashem, your God, has apportioned to all the peoples under the entire heaven! But Hashem has taken you and withdrawn you from the iron crucible, from Egypt, to be a nation of heritage for Him, as this very day.

Moshe Rabbeinu knew how difficult it would be for the recently liberated slave nation to relate to a completely non-physical God, especially after having been steeped for two centuries in Egyptian idolatry - with all of its  superstitious beliefs, occult practices, and anthropomorphic deities. This is why, in his parting speech to Bnei Yisrael, he emphasized again and again - as we must believe that he did throughout all the 40 years in the Wilderness - that they and their parents did not see any image or likeness in the conflagration of Sinai. They heard the Divine voice proclaim the Ten Declarations, but they did not see the Divine, because the Divine has no image or likeness.

Compare this to a statement from a local Hawaiian: "Pele is very real to us ... She is a living god. You can see her, you can feel her, you can taste her, you can smell her." This is a far cry from what we mean when we describe Hashem as "a living God," which we intend as an allegory, emphasizing again and again that Hashem is not physical, has no physical qualities, and is not comparable in any way to anything physical. The Rambam codifies this in the Mishneh Torah:

It is explicitly stated in the Torah and in the Prophets that the Holy One, Blessed is He, is neither a body nor a corporeal form, as it is stated, “For Hashem, your God, is the God in the heavens above and on the earth below” (Devarim 4:39), and a body cannot be in two places. It is also stated, “For you did not see any image” (Devarim 4:15), and it is stated, “To whom can you compare Me that I should be equal?” (Yishaya 40:25), and if He were a body, He would be comparable to other bodies ... 

Once it has been clearly demonstrated that He is not a body or a material form, it is also clear that He is not subject to bodily occurrences: neither combination nor separation, neither place nor measure, neither ascent nor descent, neither right nor left, neither front nor back, neither sitting nor standing. And He doesn’t exist in time, such that He would have a beginning, an end, or an age. And He does not change, for there is nothing that can cause Him to change. 

And He has neither death nor life like the life of a physical being, neither foolishness nor wisdom like the wisdom of a wise man, neither sleep nor waking up, neither anger nor jesting, neither happiness nor sadness, neither silence nor speech like human speech. Thus, the Sages declared: On High there is neither sitting nor standing, neither separation nor connection. 

Since this is so, all such [descriptions] and the like that are stated in the Torah and in the words of the prophets – all of these are metaphor and allegory. For example, “He who sits in heavens shall laugh” (Tehilim 2:4), “They angered Me with their emptiness” (Devarim 33:21), and “Hashem rejoiced” (ibid. 28:63) and the like – concerning all of these statements, the Sages said: The Torah speaks in the language of man. This is the meaning of [the rhetorical statement], “Am I the One whom they have angered?” (Yirmiyahu 7:19). Behold, it is stated: “I am Hashem, I have not changed” (Malachi 3:16). If He were sometimes angry and sometimes happy, He would change. All of these things only occur in dark and lowly bodies, those who dwell in houses of clay, whose foundation is dust. But He, Blessed is He, is exalted above all of this.

Moshe also emphasized how quickly such misapprehensions can spiral out of control. The mistake of thinking one has perceived a Divine likeness leads to the practice of making representations of the Divine, which will ultimately result in worshiping the physical. So powerful is man's need to "concretize the metaphysical" (as I wrote about in my post entitled Ayn Rand, Art, and Avodah Zarah) that what begins as an innocent misperception can quickly devolve into primitive paganism, and the loss of the abstract and tenuous concept of a totally non-physical Creator.

We live in a scientific era, in which even the most unsophisticated people are at least aware of the scientific paradigm - that the universe operates in a manner of rational, lawful principles cause and effect, which can be studied, understood, and even harnessed. But imagine a time before science and think about how this phenomenon of "Pele sightings" precludes the emergence of a scientific worldview. Allow me to paint a picture of the two paradigms:

When an ancient Jew would witness a volcanic eruption, he would say: "Blessed are You, Hashem, our God, King of the universe, Who does the work of creation (oseh maaseh bereishis)" This berachah would stem from and reinforce the recognition that nature isn't God, but is a melachah ("craft" or "product of design") created by God, which operates in accordance with the wondrous lawfulness of the "King (i.e. law giver and law enforcer) of the universe." The character of this recognition was expressed by David ha'Melech exclamation: "How great are Your works, Hashem! With wisdom You made them all; the earth is full of Your creations" (Tehilim 104:24). This orientation towards nature is conducive to the development of a scientific, chochmah-seeking worldview.

In contrast, when an ancient Hawaiian would witness a volcanic eruption, what would he say? "Look! It's Pele's hair!" "Oh no! I can see Pele's angry face!" "The lava flowing towards my land is Pele reaching out for me. Quick! I need to give her an offering to consume so that she doesn't destroy my home!" No chochmah, no lawfulness, no seeking of the underlying unity of causality in nature. Nothing but imagination and fantasy, fueled by fear and insecurity.

Divine Revelation

The last musing I had led me to think about what a "divine revelation" would mean to a religious Hawaiian vs. a religious Jew.

The Jewish view of revelation is expressed in the text of the Shofros berachah on Rosh ha'Shanah:

You were revealed in Your cloud of glory to Your  holy people to speak with them. From the heavens You made them hear your voice and revealed Yourself to them in thick clouds of purity. Moreover, the entire universe shuddered before You and the creatures of creation trembled before You during Your revelation, our King, on Mount Sinai, to teach Your people Torah and mitzvos. 

For us, revelation is the means by which the Creator of the universe gave us (to quote the Ralbag's introduction to Torah) "a regimen that brings those who practice it properly to true success (i.e. knowledge of Hashem to the extent that this is humanly possible)." Hashem's revelation at Sinai provided the Jewish people, and mankind as a whole, with a system of laws, ethical guidelines, and ideas which enable us to create a society governed by the principles of chesed (kindness), tzedakah (righteousness), and mishpat (justice), devoted to the pursuit of knowledge and human perfection.

For the ancient Hawaiian, a revelation of Pele has nothing to do with chesed, tzedakah, mishpat, knowledge, or human perfection. Pele's revelation was nothing but an uncertain glimpse into the whims of a capricious deity.

Conclusion

When I am called up to the Torah, they call me up as "_____ ben Avraham Avinu." As the Rambam explains in his letter to Ovadiah ha'Ger, all converts are described as "the children of Avraham Avinu" not because Avraham was our biological ancestor, but because he is our ideological progenitor.

When I think about my non-Jewish grandfather and his cultural heritage and compare that to my Jewish "father" of Avraham Avinu and his cultural heritage, am moved to say: "Blessed are You, Hashem, our God, King of the universe, Who chose us from among the peoples, and gave us His Torah. Blessed are You, Hashem, Who gives the Torah."

Shavuos is NOT About Matan Torah

Truth be told, the title of this blog post only reflects two out of the three views that will be discussed here. But this title is definitely more eye-catching than a boring vanilla title like "What is the Theme of Shavuos?" so I rolled with it. If you're REALLY short on time and just want the bottom line, skip to the summary at the very end.

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Artwork: Mountain (THS), by Adam Paquette

Shavuos is NOT About Matan Torah

The Question

Ask your average Jew, "What is Shavuos about?" and you are bound to get the answer, "Shavuos is about Matan Torah (the Giving of the Torah at Sinai)." That's what I thought until I started looking into the issue. 

There is a major problem with the aforementioned standard explanation: the pesukim never identify "Matan Torah" as the theme of Shavuos. Sure, one can argue that there are allusions to this theme in the Torah she'bi'Chsav (Written Torah), and there are numerous supports in Torah she'baal Peh (Oral Torah) and halacha. But it is definitely noteworthy that the pesukim themselves do not mention anything about Matan Torah in relation to the Chag ha'Shavuos. 

The aim of this post is to summarize the approaches taken by three meforshim (commentators): the Ralbag, who agrees with the conventional explanation, and the Abravanel and Rav Hirsch who disagree. As is the case in any machlokes (disagreement), each theory has its own strengths and weaknesses, and the reader will have to make his or her own determination as to which explanation is the most convincing.

Ralbag: The Traditional Theory

The Ralbag [1] notes the difficulty we mentioned, but nevertheless insists that Shavuos commemorates Matan Torah:

"In the third month from the Exodus of the Children of Israel from Egypt, on this day, they arrived at the Wilderness of Sinai" (Shemos 19:1). This refers to the day of Rosh Chodesh itself ... And since this indicates at the very least that Matan Torah occurred on the third day of the third month [since the pesukim go on to say,] "On the third day when it was morning, there was thunder and lightning, etc." (ibid. 19:16), which is close to the time of Chag ha'Shavuos, which is on the 6th of Sivan, and it is possible that Israel camped there for three days before Moshe said to them, "Be prepared after a three-day period" (ibid. 19:15) - therefore, it is proper for us to believe that the day of Matan Torah was on the 6th of Sivan. Furthermore, it would be bogus [to claim] that the Torah left for us an impression and a commemoration of the time we left Egypt by making a Chag ha'Matzos but didn't leave for us an impression and commemoration of the time that the Torah was given in this wondrous manner. For this reason it is clearly evident that the Chag ha'Shavuos is at the time of Matan Torah, to remind us of the wondrous phenomenon of Matan Torah to firmly establish our conviction in the words of Torah always. 

The Ralbag makes two arguments to support his assertion that Shavuos commemorates Matan Torah: (1) since Shavuos is on the 6th of Sivan, and since the pesukim can be read in a way which indicates that the Torah was given on or around the 6th of Sivan, it follows that the 6th of Sivan is the day of Matan Torah, and the Chag ha'Shavuos is its commemoration; (2) it would be absurd for the Torah to commemorate the day of Yetzias Mitzrayim (the Exodus from Egypt) and not commemorate the day of Matan Torah. 

In Parashas Emor the Ralbag [2] supports his theory with his explanation of the Shtei ha'Lechem (Two Loaves), which is the unique korban of Shavuos. In short, he explains that we bring loaves of chametz-bread as a korban to reflect the Torah-regimen, which brings man to perfection. He writes:

Before man’s actions and concepts are perfected through the Torah-regimen, his actions and concepts are deficient – just like matzah-bread, which lacks the perfection of leavening. But afterwards, man’s actions and concepts become perfected, like chametz-bread, which has the greatest degree of perfection. 

(For a full treatment of this subject, see our post entitled, Torah as Melachah.)

The strength of the Ralbag's theory lies in its intuitiveness, and its consonance with other sources and halachic practices. The strongest proof is that in our tefilos (prayers) we refer to the holiday as: "Yom Chag ha'Shavuos zman matan Toraseinu (the day of Chag ha'Shavuos, the time of the giving of our Torah)." Then there's the fact that the krias ha'Torah (public Torah reading) of the moadim corresponds to the theme of that moed. What do we read on Shavuos? The widespread minhag (custom) is to read the Torah's account of Matan Torah in Shemos Chapters 19-20. And there are numerous other minhagim which also support the Ralbag, such as the reading of Megilas Rus (which deals with Rus's personal acceptance of Torah), the reading of Akdamus (which deals with the theme of Torah), the minhag to stay up all night learning Torah, and more. 

The weakness of the Ralbag's theory is the lack of support in Torah she'bi'Chsav. It is awkward, to say the least, that the Ralbag relies on inferences to establish both the date of Matan Torah and the theme of Shavuos, and utilizes each one to support his argument for the other. At the end of the day the Ralbag must contend with the fact that the pesukim don't say anything about Matan Torah in conjunction with Shavuos. 

Abravanel: The Scriptural Theory

The Abravanel's argument [3] hinges entirely on Torah she'bi'Chsav's treatment of Shavuos. He begins by expressing the view that is the title of this blog post:

Behold! The Torah didn't give as a reason for this chag that it is a commemoration of the day of Matan Torah because this chag was NOT established as a commemoration of the giving of our Torah, since this God-given Torah that is in our possession and this nevuah (prophecy) that is in our possession - they are their own witnesses, and there is no need to sanctify a day to remember it. 

Right away we see that the Abravanel's view is the polar opposite of the Ralbag's. The Ralbag argued that it would be absurd for there NOT to be a holiday commemorating the day of Matan Torah, whereas the Abravanel says that there is NO need for such a holiday! (As much as we would like to return to this point in this post, it will probably have to wait for another time; feel free to suggest a definition for this machlokes in the comments.)

The Abravanel continues by stating what he holds to be the real theme of the chag:

But the reason for the Chag ha'Shavuos is that it is the beginning of the wheat harvest. Just as the Chag ha'Sukkos is at the end of the gathering of the produce, so too, the Chag ha'Shavuos is at the beginning of their gathering. For Hashem desired that at the start of the gathering of the produce that sustains man - of which wheat is the primary species, and which is first harvested at the Chag ha'Shavuos - they should make a chag to give thanks to "He Who provides sustenance to all flesh." And at the end of the produce [gathering season] they should make another chag. 

In the Abravanel's view, Shavuos and Sukkos are both harvest festivals: Shavuos occurs at the time of the first major harvest, and Sukkos occurs at the very end of the harvest. In a sense, these two moadim may be compared to brachah rishonah (the blessing of praise we make before partaking of our food) and brachah achronah (the blessing of thanks we make after partaking of our food). We thank and praise Hashem at the beginning, so that we enter "harvest mode" with the right mentality, and we thank and praise Hashem at the end, to make sure that we don't get caught up in our own success. 

At this point one might ask, "Wait a minute - does the Abravanel deny that the Torah was given on the 6th of Sivan?" The answer is no - and yet, the Abravanel explains that overlap of the day of Matan Torah and the day of this harvest festival is (for lack of a better term) a coincidence! He writes:

Without a doubt the day of the Chag ha'Shavuos is the day that the Torah was given, but we were not commanded in this chag in order to remember [Matan Torah]. The same is true of Yom Teruah (i.e. Rosh ha'Shanah). It is stated [in the Mussaf of Rosh ha'Shanah]: "This day is the beginning of Your works, a remembrance of the first day" - but despite all this, it doesn't say that the reason why He commanded us to observe Yom Teruah is for the sake of this remembrance; rather, [He commanded us to observe the Yom Teruah] as the Day of Judgment. The same is true of the Chag ha'Shavuos: it occurs at the time of our Matan Torah, but we weren't commanded in it for this remembrance; rather, [He commanded us to observe the Chag ha'Shavuos] as the beginning of the wheat harvest.

It should be noted that while the Abravanel does explain some connection between Yom Teruah and the initial act of creating the universe (as we wrote about in our post Yom ha'Din and Yom Teruah), he does not offer any explanation of a thematic connection between the wheat harvest and Matan Torah - at least, not that I have seen. We will return to this point later.

The Abravanel concludes his explanation of Shavuos by citing ample evidence for this theory from Torah she'bi'Chsav:

Likewise it was stated in Seder Mishpatim: "and the Chag ha'Katzir (Festival of the Harvest) of the first fruits of your labor that you sow in the field, and the Chag ha'Asif (Festival of the Ingathering) at the close of the year, when you gather in your work from the field" (Shemos 23:16). And in Seder Ki Sisa: "and the Chag ha'Shavuos with the first offering of the wheat harvest, and the Chag ha'Asif shall be at the changing of the year" (ibid. 34:22). And in Seder Pinchas: "On the day of the first-fruits, when you offer a new meal-offering to Hashem, on your [Festival of] Weeks" (Bamidbar 28:26). And in Seder Re'eh: "You shall count seven weeks for yourselves, from when the sickle is first put to the standing crop shall you begin counting seven weeks. Then you shall observe the Chag ha'Shavuos" (Devarim 16:9-10). Behold! You see that this chag is only called by the name "Shavuos" and that we were only commended in it because of the first fruits, not as a remembrance of Matan Torah.

This is why it was stated by the Chag ha'Shavuos: "[You shall convoke] on that very day" (Vayikra 23:21), since [its identity as a holiday] it is because of the day itself, in that it is the first wheat harvest - not because it was [the day of] Matan Torah ... 

And since this Chag indicates the beginning of the wheat harvest, as I explained, therefore the Torah commands us in its purpose immediately after this, saying: "When you reap the harvest of your land, [you shall not remove completely the corners of your field as you reap and you shall not gather the gleanings of your harvest; for the poor and the convert shall you leave them; I am Hashem, your God]" (ibid. 23:22). In other words, just as the beginning of the harvest is for the kavod (honor) of Hashem in the Chag ha'Shavuos, so too is the purpose of His service in leaving peah and leket for the poor.

The evidence marshaled by the Abravanel is quite compelling! Literally every pasuk in the Torah which discusses the theme of Shavuos supports his theory. The anomalous use of the term "on that very day" to describe Shavuos is consistent with his explanation that Shavuos celebrates a phenomenon associated with the day itself (i.e. the harvest that we begin at that time of year), rather than a historical event which the holiday was established to commemorate (i.e. Pesach). Last, but not least, the Abravanel's theory answers a question we addressed in our previous blog post as to why the Torah follows its discussion of Shavuos by reminding us of laws of the harvest. If the theme of Shavuos were Matan Torah, this reminder would be a non-sequitur. But once we see that the theme of Shavuos is thanking Hashem for the harvest, it naturally follows that this recognition should reinforce our observance of the tzedakah-mitzvos which govern the manner in which we harvest. 

The strength that the Abravanel's theory derives from Torah she'bi'Chsav is matched by the weakness of his theory from the standpoint of our halachic practice. What does the Abravanel do with the phrase "zman matan Toraseinu" in our tefilos? What does he make of the many minhagim which support the Ralbag's assertion that Shavuos is about Matan Torah? Is he really not bothered by the fact that the day of Shavuos and the day of Matan Torah just happen to coincide? Unfortunately, I am not aware of any place where the Abravanel addresses these difficulties with his theory. 

Rav Hirsch: The "True Commemoration" Theory

All three of the meforshim whose views are discussed in this blog post are undoubtedly original thinkers. And yet, Rav Hirsch's explanation of Shavuos is, to my mind, the most creative of the three. Unlike Ralbag and Abravanel, Rav Hirsch begins with the premise - taken from Torah she'baal Peh - that Shavuos has something to do with Matan Torah. With that in mind, he begins by taking up the same question as the Ralbag, namely, when did Matan Torah actually happen, and what is the relationship between the day of Matan Torah and the day of Chag ha'Shavuos? Rav Hirsch [4] writes:

As is well known, in accordance with our definite tradition, in our prayers, we designate the bikkurim-day, called Chag ha'Shavuos in Shemos 34:22 and Devarim 16:10,16, as "zman matan Toraseinu," as the time of our law-giving. And in fact, a careful reading of Chapter 19 in Exodus shows that the day of the Revelation at Sinai was on the 6th or 7th day of the third month, accordingly on or about the 50th day of the day-and-month counting which began on the 16th day of Nisan, as explained in detail in Shabbos 86b. 

At this point Rav Hirsch departs from the Ralbag. Whereas the Ralbag relied solely on the pesukim in Torah she'bi'Chsav to infer the relevant dates, Rav Hirsch openly consults the sources within Torah she'baal Peh and takes them as his foundation. According to the Gemara in Shabbos 86b, Matan Torah happened on either the 6th or the 7th day of the month of Sivan. Rav Hirsch goes on to explain, in contrast to the Ralbag, that the day of Chag ha'Shavuos cannot commemorate the day of Matan Torah: 

According to the tradition generally firmly held in the Nation, the Day of Matan Torah was on a Shabbos; the day of the Exodus from Egypt, the 15th of Nisan, was, according to the [midrash] Seder Olam, on a Friday, but according to the Talmud (Shabbos 87b) it was on a Thursday. According to that, taking the reckoning from the Seder Olam, the Matan Torah would actually have been on the 50th day from the 16th of Nisan - but according to the Talmud, which is authoritative for us, it would only have taken place on the 51st, which the Magen Avraham on Orach Chayim 494 remarks as being striking; so that the 50th day after the Omer would be, not the anniversary of the day of Matan Torah, but of the day before it!

Without going into the complications and proofs discussed in the Gemara and the meforshim, the upshot is like this: we know from the pesukim that Shavuos takes place on the 50th day after the 16th of Nisan; we also know from the Talmud that the 15th of Nisan was on a Thursday, and that Matan Torah happened on Shabbos; accordingly, it turns out that the day we celebrate Shavuos is 50 days after the 16th of Nisan, but the day of Matan Torah is 51 days after the 16th of Nisan. Thus, Chag ha'Shavuos is celebrated on the anniversary of the day before Matan Torah. As such, it is difficult to say that Shavuos commemorates the day of Matan Torah!

Rav Hirsch then provides a second reason why Chag ha'Shavuos can't commemorate the day of Matan Torah:

Now we have only to realize that, according to the Torah, the fixing of the beginning of the months is dependent on the observation of the new moon, kidush al pi ha'reiyah, to see that the 50th day after the omer is by no means definitely attached to a particular day of the month of Sivan. This is remarked on in [the Gemara] Rosh ha'Shanah: that the festival of Shavuos starting on the 50th day after the omer can fall on the 5th, the 6th, or the 7th of Sivan. Had the Torah intended the recurrence of the Matan Torah to be a day of remembrance of that event, it would have given us that historic date with the same precision that it gave us the 14th and 15th of Nisan to be days of remembrance for the Exodus from Egypt. But the idea of such a festival of remembrance may be so far from the intention of the Torah that it expressly wanted to ward off such an erroneous conception by saying "u'krasem b'etzem ha'yom ha'zeh" ("you shall proclaim [a holiday] on that very day itself"). For, so we believe, this wants to say: not on the day of the month on which the event of Matan Torah took place, which lies so near, but on the 50th day after the omer which is fixed for the bringing of the bikurim-bread, are you to celebrate this festival, without any consideration of the day of the month ...  

In other words, if Shavuos were intended to be a historical day of remembrance of the day of Matan Torah, as Pesach is a historical day of remembrance of the day of Yetzias Mitzrayim, then the Torah would have assigned it to the same calendar date that the event of Matan Torah actually took place, just as it assigned Pesach to the same calendar date that the event of Yetzias Mitzrayim took place - but it didn't! Instead, the Torah assigned Shavuos to the 50th day after the 16th of Nisan, which - depending on when the witnesses report seeing the New Moon - can fall out on the 5th, 6th, or 7th of Nisan. Thus, the Torah clearly didn't intend Shavuos to be a festival of historical remembrance!

After establishing these facts, the central question remains:

But the fact that the day which is elevated to a festival should be just not the day of the revelation on Sinai, but the final day of the counting which leads up to that, the greatest event in our history; that it should be, according to the generally accepted reckoning, the day before Matan Torah, which did not occur on the 50th but on the 51st - that fact should surely have a deep and important meaning for us.

Rav Hirsch now presents his theory:

It is not the fact of the revelation of the Torah, but our making ourselves worthy to receive it, that our Matan Torah festival celebrates. It is the day before the Matan Torah, the last day of the hagbalah (fencing off of boundaries around Sinai) and prishah (separation of man and wife in preparation for the Revelation), the day on which the nation finally presented itself as ready and worthy for the great mission to the world, to be the receivers and bearers of the Law of God, it is that day which the 50th day of the counting of the omer represents. 

As we have remarked elsewhere, this festival, differently to all the others, is not called after that which characteristically has to be done on it, but "Shavuos," after the counting of the weeks which preparatorily lead up to it. The Lawgiving, too, was in no wise concentrated on the day of Sinai. The Lawgiving and the receipt of the laws lasted during forty years [5], and the ten commandments received at Sinai have no greater divinity or holiness than any of the other 613 commands and prohibitions which God gave through Moshe. Quite clearly God Himself has explained the meaning and importance of the revelation on Sinai as being only an introduction to the laws which were to be transmitted through Moshe. The Sinai-day was to be a proof by personal experience that God can speak to Man and had spoken to Moshe, so that we would receive the whole Torah from the mouth of Moshe with full confidence that it was the Word of God. "Behold! I come to you in the thickness of the cloud, so that the people will hear as I speak to you, and they will also believe in you forever" (Shemos 19:9). [6]

According to Rav Hirsch, Shavuos is a celebration of our readiness and preparedness to receive Torah - not a commemoration of the Revelation at Sinai or Matan Torah itself. It is for this reason that we celebrate Shavuos on the day before Matan Torah rather than the day of Matan Torah. It is also the reason why the holiday is called "Chag ha'Shavuos," based on the weeks during which we prepared to receive the Torah, rather than something like "Chag Matan Toraseinu" or "Chag Maamad Har Sinai." And since, according to Rav Hirsch, the entire Torah was not received on the day of the Revelation at Sinai, it would be somewhat misleading to make that day into a Matan Torah holiday 

Summary

In summary, all three meforshim were confronted with the problematic fact that Shavuos occurs at around the same time as Matan Torah - and yet, the Torah never explicitly identifies Matan Torah as its theme. 

Ralbag maintains that Matan Torah is the theme of Shavuos, and the Chag ha'Shavuos is a historical commemoration of the day of Matan Torah. His main argument is that it would be absurd to commemorate Yetzias Mitzrayim and not commemorate Matan Torah. The strength of his theory is its intuitiveness, and the many halachic practices which point to Matan Torah as the theme of the holiday. The weakness of his theory is the complete absence of explicit evidence in Torah she'bi'Chsav.

Abravanel maintains that the theme of Shavuos is the beginning of the wheat harvest, and that Chag ha'Shavuos and Chag ha'Sukkos are designed to bracket the harvest season, thereby giving us the opportunity to give thanks for the bounty we have received. He maintains that there is no need for a "day of remembrance" for Matan Torah, since the Torah itself bears witness to the event of its giving. The strength of the Abravanel's theory is that Shavuos is exclusively presented in Torah she'bi'Chsav as a harvest festival. The weakness of his theory is that it is difficult to say that the overlap of Matan Torah and this harvest festival is a mere coincidence, and that one has nothing to do with the other - especially in light of the halachic practices cited above. 

Lastly, Rav Hirsch maintains that the theme of Shavuos is a celebration of the worthiness and willingness of Bnei Yisrael to receive the Torah. This is why Chag ha'Shavuos is celebrated on the day before Matan Torah, and why the date of the holiday is not fixed to the historical day of Matan Torah, but is entirely dependent on the counting of the omer - a mitzvah which signifies the preparatory period leading up to Matan Torah. This is also why we call it "Chag ha'Shavuos," after the weeks leading up to Matan Torah. The strength of Rav Hirsch's theory is his explanation of the peculiar manner in which the Torah legislated the date of Chag ha'Shavuos. The weakness of his theory is that it relies on a number of premises that emerge from details and inferences within the Talmud, rather than the plain pshat of Torah she'bi'Chsav and Torah she'baal Peh. 

In conclusion, we see how each of the meforshim were confronted with the same question, and used the available data to come up with a theory about the theme of this holiday. Neither theory is perfect, but each allows us to appreciate a different aspect of the chag.

And, as a bonus, here is a little Venn diagram to depict where these three meforshim agree and disagree.

[1] Rabbeinu Levi ben Gershom (Ralbag / Gersonides), Commentary on Sefer Shemos 19:1

[2] ibid. Commentary on Sefer Vayikra 23
[3] Don Yitzchak Abravanel, Commentary on Sefer Vayikra 23:21

[4] Rav Samson Raphael Hirsch, Commentary on Vayikra 23:21 

[5] There is a machlokes (disagreement) as to whether the entire Torah was given at Sinai when Moshe went up to receive it, or whether he only received some of the Torah there, and the rest of the mitzvos throughout the forty years in the Wilderness. Rav Hirsch clearly holds by the latter, and this view happens to support his theory about the purpose of Shavuos.

[6] Rav Hirsch adds an additional possibility as to why Hashem avoided making a holiday based on the day of Matan Torah. Since it touches upon a whole different topic, and is not essential for Rav Hirsch's theory (by his own admission), I have decided to relegate it to this footnote instead of including it in the main body of the post. Rav Hirsch writes:

So that as "the Ten Commandments" received no special place in the order of the daily public services (due to the beliefs of the heretics), so as to give no support to the non-Jewish idea that the "Ten Commandments" form the whole of God's laws, or even that they had only a greater degree of godliness and holiness (see Berachos 12a), in the same way probably a similar consideration is the motive of the Torah in not raising just the day of "Revelation of the Ten Commandments" to a national festival.