A midrash: Moses, seeing the Egyptians hard on the Israelites’ heels, prays to God to save them.
God replies something like, “Why are you crying out to me? Do something!”
A Sholom Aleichem-like story: murderous riders press hard on the heels of the pintele Yid as he bursts into the study-house. “Listen Jews! The Cossacks are coming! Do something! Say Tehillim!”
Study? Pray? Or get out your best weaponry? Shavuot has challenged us all to consider how we approach the study and application of our vocation as Jews, the eternal struggle to balance study with action.
Leaving aside the weapons, on Shavuot in Greater Vancouver, hundreds of Jews took part in Tikkun Leyl Shavuot and continued for the entire weekend to enjoy study and prayer together. Hopefully that study will translate into action.
When we arrived in Vancouver more than 40 years ago, there were three synagogue buildings: a small beit hamidrash, a large Conservative synagogue and a similarly large Orthodox synagogue. Two other congregations, one Reform, also met in various incarnations.
Today our community has grown to offer a wide variety of worship options. We may not seem significant when compared to giant Toronto or venerable Montreal, but we have become a community that serves more than 16 congregations and worship groups: Conservative, chassidic, Orthodox, Renewal and Reform, based both in Vancouver itself and the suburbs.
Best of all, our rabbis meet in a collegial atmosphere at RAV, the Rabbinic Association of Vancouver.
This Shavuot, we had an excess of riches. For example, the eminent Hebrew University professor of the talmudic period, Yeshiyahu Gafni, taught the entire weekend at one synagogue, bringing the history and art of the Talmud and midrash alive.
Rabbi Elana Zaiman, a chaplain in Seattle, taught us how to deepen our life experiences through Torah study and gave a workshop on writing ethical wills. Our cantor led us in spirited song as we rejoiced in the gift of Torah. Other congregations and study groups met throughout the night in similar study.
All over the world, Jews spent the night in prayer and reflection, in song and study. The power of this idea has been attributed to the Kabbalists of Safed during the time of Rabbi Isaac Luria and mentioned in the Zohar, Parshat Emor (which was written in the 13th century in Spain and attributed to Rabbi Shimon Bar Yohai).
The night of study and prayer to raise the souls of participants to the highest level of spiritual awareness has taken hold and become a tradition all over the Jewish world. Our senses are sharpened, more attuned to insights and, for a few, perhaps visions of something above the mundane. Every year we strive for this.
How fortunate we are to be a part of this thriving community, with its vital leadership and increased learning opportunities – the recital of psalms, as it were.
And how important it is that, armed with this knowledge, we as individuals and as a community can increase our level of mitzvot as a result of what we learn – going forward into the Reed Sea, taking action.
It’s a powerful moment.
There’s just one other thing.
All the voices raised in study and debate on the evening of Shavuot still constitute a small minority of Jews in our community. To come together in our synagogues and study halls is wonderful. To realize that many Jews will never cross those thresholds is a challenge. Surely this must also be true of other communities.
As I have noted in other columns, a recent survey of our community’s attitudes and practices revealed – and no statistic should be taken at face value when the respondents are self-selecting – that the number of people identifying with a denomination is decreasing from generation to generation. That holds across the denominational board.
We need to start looking beyond our doors. Opening them wide for others to enter is fine, but it’s just not enough.
How to go beyond our corner of the Jewish world to spread the riches of our heritage – that’s the challenge we face.