Tonight starts the holiday of Shavuot - the holiday when we celebrate the giving of the Torah to the Jews. Or, as my husband explains it to his Indian co-workers, the Festival of the Cheescake, because of the tradition to eat dairy on this holiday. I've been trying to think of what to write for this holiday, but came up with nothing until I stumbled onto Reb Barry's blog and his sermon for Shavuot. I bring you an excerpt, but the full text can be found here.

Our ancestors reply when Moses came down the mountain with the Torah [is] somewhat perplexing. They said:

כּל אֲשֶׁר-דִּבֶּר יְי נַעֲשֶה וְנִשְׁמָע

"Everything that God has said, we will do and we will hear/understand."

The EXACT opposite of the normal process: they agreed to follow the commandments without even understanding what it was that they were being commanded to do.

The Talmud expresses shock that our ancestors agreed to obey first: “R. Eleazar said: When the Israelites gave precedence to we will do over we will hearken, a Heavenly Voice went forth and exclaimed to them, Who revealed to My children this secret, which is employed by the Ministering Angels, as it is written, Bless the Lord, ye angels of his. Ye mighty in strength, that fulfil his word, That hearken unto the voice of his word: first they fulfill and then they hearken?”

What’s so powerful about this secret?

To appreciate the power of this secret, we have to first understand what’s the purpose of the religious life. Why be religious at all?

The goal of most religions is to achieve a state of being connected to God. All religions claim to be a path, if not THE path, to connecting with God. The believer knows that having a real relationship with God can transform your life like nothing else.

The Slonimer Rebbe says the goal of every Jew should be to achieve devekut, a cleaving to God, a powerful connection with God. Na’aseh v’nishmah—agreeing to obey before hearing the rules—demonstrates this, because the essence of na’aseh v’nishmah is that even in dark times, when we don’t understand the will of God very clearly, when our understanding is limited, we still put na’aseh, we will do, before nishmah, we will understand. We still cleave to God, we still accept God, even if we don’t totally understand God.

An insistence on having it all explained in an understandable way before taking on a particular mitzvah is symptomatic of a distant relationship with God.

If someone you love says “do me a favor?” what’s the answer?

“Of course, what is it?”

We don’t need it explained first. We agree first because we trust and love the other person. We want to do things for them. The Slonimer Rebbe says that at Sinai our ancestors accepted the commandments from a place of love, the way children love their parents.

So if we say na’aseh, we will do, what do we need the nishmah for? Madregat HaAdam says that by saying na’aseh, we are agreeing to perform God’s will even before we understand it. The nishmah we pursue is to understand what it is that God is asking of us—not so that we can decide whether or not to do it, we’ve already agreed we’ll do it—but rather simply so that we’ll know what to do.

Too many modern Jews get caught up in making decisions about each individual mitzvah. Should I keep kosher or not? Should I keep kosher at home but eat whatever out? Should I keep the Sabbath? How should I keep the Sabbath?

And what about those rules that seem pretty obscure. Like shaatnez, the prohibition of mixing wool and linen. What does God have against wool and linen? Do I really have to follow that one?

Yes, you really have to follow that one.

I may go down in history as the only Conservative rabbi to ever tell his congregants they have to pay attention to shaatnez – usually we’re so focused on the big two of getting people to keep kosher and observe the Sabbath we don’t speak much of other ritual commandments.

But shaatnez has important symbolic value—particularly because it seems so random and inexplicable.

When I look at a label to make sure it does not contain a mixture of wool and linen, I am reminded that I accept the idea of being commanded by God to obey the mitzvot. I am reminded that I accept the idea of God being greater than me. I am reminded that I accept being bound to obey the rules God gave us in the Torah. I have a brief moment of increasing my daily “God-consciousness,” all from following a seemingly random rule of the Torah.

We accept these rules as a package because we believe God loves us and the rules God gives us are for our own benefit. When my doctor gives me a prescription for a particular medication, I don’t have to run to the internet to decide whether or not I’m going to take it– I trust my doctor to have given me something for my benefit.

But even here, there is nothing wrong with asking a nishmah question, a question seeking further understanding. After I get my prescription I may look on the internet for advice about a particular medication, or more details on things to watch out for. Not because I’m questioning the instruction, but rather for clarification. Similarly we accept God’s commandments, but can still look for clarification after we’ve accepted them.

The nishmah – the seeking understanding – can become complicated when we see things in the Torah that seem to contradict themselves. That’s why the rabbis have struggled so much with the Torah over the centuries. How do we reconcile the Torah’s commandment to put to death the ben sorer u’moreh, the stubborn and rebellious son we read about in next week’s parsha, with the fact that from what we can tell he has not committed a capital offense? The rabbis’ response in the Talmud was to render the rules around the rebellious son inoperative. One rabbi even claims that there never was a rebellious son put to death according to this rule in the Torah. One of his colleagues argues, so, why is it in the Torah then? The answer is so that we can gain merit from studying it.

Accepting being commanded means our default response to God’s rules must be to obey. There is no good reason not to follow the commandment against shaatnez, so I follow it. It’s not such a huge inconvenience. If there is a commandment that seems problematic, or seems to contradict other principles in the Torah, like the rebellious son, the tradition tells us it is OK to wrestle with those commandments. We have been interpreting those commandments for millennia, because we believe that when we engage in that interpretation we are seeking God’s will. We’ve already agreed we’ll do God’s will, we’re just trying to figure out what it really is when we spot a contradiction.

Following the commandments is the way that Jews bring God into their lives. Whether it’s by making time for God on the Sabbath and holidays, or by remembering to thank God with a blessing for the good food She has given us, or by reading the label on a sports coat to see if it contains shaatnez, the commandments are ways to bring God into our lives.

And a relationship with God is like a relationship with a person. You have a deeper relationship with someone in your immediate family that you talk to several times a day than you have with someone you talk to three times a year. The more time you spend with God, the deeper your relationship will be.

And THAT’S the power of the secret of our ancestor’s putting na’aseh before nishmah. Faith does not lead to obedience – the world is full of people who claim to believe in God who don’t follow His rules. It’s the other way around. Obedience leads to faith. We follow the rules not as a reflection of our close relationship with God, but as a reflection of our DESIRE to have a close relationship with God.

Abraham Joshua Heschel said that Judaism does not call on people to take a leap of faith – it calls on people to take a leap of action. Bring your doubts, bring your questions, but follow the mitzvot – and along the way you may find your doubts disappearing and your questions being answered.