Unlike most Jewish holidays, Shavuot has no sad undertones. Could this be why 'the Torah’s birthday’ is generally overlooked?
By Yael Miller for Haaretz
I
tutor students part time in a somewhat Jewish area outside of
Washington, D.C. Most are pretty excited when they find out I’m Jewish,
and I usually try to bond with them over their excitement by mentioning
holidays or fun facts on Israel. Oftentimes, I’ll ask, “What holidays
are coming up?” and see their faces light up when they answer.This week, I asked several of my students, “What holiday is coming up?” and watched as a blank stare come over their faces. One postulated, “Yom Kippur?” another looked at me as if I were crazy and said, “Uh, Passover was last month, Yael.” Finally, one exclaimed after much thought: “Oh yeah! It’s the Torah’s birthday. It’s important, right?”
Shavuot has always puzzled me. It’s an important holiday, but honestly, for the vast majority of Jews out there, it isn’t celebrated, and if it is, it’s by eating cheesecake. Even the “Jew FAQ” website who lists a “Gentiles’ Guide to the Jewish Holidays” states that “this holiday is every bit as important as Passover, Rosh Hashanah and Yom Kippur, but most American Jews don't see it that way.”
You’d think that for a holiday that considers macaroni and cheese as appropriate festive food, that Americans would be obsessed with Shavuot (myself included). It’s a happy holiday, celebrating the gift of the Torah to the Jewish people, unlike the somber holidays like Yom Kippur. So why don’t we celebrate it more?
Part of me thinks that Shavuot is a victim of its timing. Coming after Passover, a holiday that literally takes over the kitchens of most Jewish people for about a week, I think most secular folk just feel, well, tired. After thoroughly cleaning our kitchens and suffering from the havoc that matza reigns on our digestive system, the thought of creating a full-dairy meal induces a figurative stomachache (or a very real one for those who are lactose-intolerant).
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My
grandmother tells this story about how a relative of hers who lived in
Israel asked her, quite intensely, whether she was an American or a Jew.
She didn’t know what to say; why couldn’t she be both?
From
Brandeis on the Atlantic to Azusa on the Pacific, an iron curtain has
descended across academia. Behind that line lie all the classrooms of
the ancient schools of America. Wesleyan, Brown, Princeton, Vassar, Bryn
Mawr, Berkeley, Bowdoin, and Stanford, all these famous colleges and
the populations within them lie in what we must call the Liberal sphere,
and all are subject in one form or another, not only to influence but
to a very high and, in many cases, increasing measure of control from
the commissars of Liberal Orthodoxy. . . .