This weekend begins the holiday of Shavuot, the holiday on which we celebrate the giving of the Torah. If you read about the event in the Torah, however, the people were not only celebratory; they were fearful. They trembled, and according to one legend, the terror was so great that their souls left their bodies and had to be restored.
Fear arises when the future is uncertain. Our imaginations rush in with frightening images. For the former slaves, revelation was a shattering event, and they could not know what it meant or where it might lead them.
A very different kind of fear took hold of the American Jewish community this past week. The murders of Sarah Milgrim and Yaron Lischinsky struck our community very powerfully. We were reminded that there is a very thin membrane between antisemitic agitation and savage action.
Hearing the news, I was immediately reminded of Feb. 25, 1996, when two young American Jews, Sarah Duker and Matthew Eisenfeld, were killed by the bomb of a Hamas terrorist in the streets of Jerusalem. They were students at the Jewish Theological Seminary in New York City, where I was teaching at the time, on a year studying in Israel. They were about to be engaged.
Sarah Milgrim and Yaron Lischinsky were shot and killed on the streets of Washington, D.C. They, too, were about to be engaged.
In both cases, young lives filled with promise were cut short. In both cases, communities grieved and institutions stepped up security, gripped by the ancient fear that shakes our souls.
That is where the fear of Shavuot meets the fear of the present moment. What calmed and sustained the Israelites then? We are told by the great commentator Rashi that all of Israel stood “as one person with one heart” at Sinai (on Ex. 19:2). In unity, there was comfort and strength.
Throughout Jewish history, solidarity has been our enduring answer to those who seek to harm us. We must remember that we stand as one people. We are not alone. We stand together and with allies of goodwill and conscience.
Even as we mourn, we will also celebrate. We will rejoice in the gift of Torah, the “tree of life,” still sheltering and inspiring us. In that shared celebration, we will find courage and resilience, as our ancestors did so long ago.
