Recently, in a conversation with a friend in which we were lamenting the challenges of consistently eating healthfully, my friend shared the following observation: “I wish I related to unhealthy food the same way I relate to non-kosher food. With non-kosher food, it’s not an option. There’s no struggle for me. It’s completely off limits and I don’t even relate to it as a possibility.”

This observation points to the role that structure plays in our lives. Though some may be able to superimpose structure where it doesn’t organically exist, there is something about built-in structure that, for many, provides a sense of containment and security. Ironically, clearly delineated systems can have a liberating effect on our life. Along these lines, our rabbis teach, “Ein lecha ben chorin ela mi she’osek b’Torah,”1 roughly translated as, “the truly free person is one who engages in Torah.” In a somewhat counterintuitive manner, living in accordance with the Torah’s statutes can be liberating, giving us the opportunity for self-actualization and even self-transcendence through the systematic pursuit of meaningful goals.  

I once heard a psychologist share an insightful analogy relating to this idea. Imagine there is a great party on a rooftop. Fine wine, excellent food, tasteful music, lively dancing. Under which circumstance will people enjoy themselves more: when there is a fence surrounding the perimeter of the roof or when there is no fence around the edge of the roof, leaving it totally open? Clearly, the presence of the fence enhances people’s experience. Rather than having to constantly be worried that they are getting too close to the edge and might fall off, they can relax and enjoy themselves. Structure provides security, predictability, and safety. Ironically, the containment offered by the fence is very liberating, opening up a form of enjoyment and opportunity that wouldn’t exist without this boundary. 

In exploring the Jewish nation’s choice to accept the Torah, Chazal2 highlight a contradiction between the biblical and rabbinic account of the experience at Sinai. According to the text of the Torah, Hashem presented the Torah to the Jewish nation, who willingly and unequivocally accepted “na’aseh v’nishma.”3 On the other hand, the rabbinic account paints quite a different portrait. In the midrashic texts,4 a serious degree of coercion was involved — “Kafah aleihem har k’gigit” — Hashem raised the mountain over their heads and said that if they chose not to accept the Torah, there (i.e. under the mountain) will be their grave. How do we reconcile these two diverging accounts of the giving of the Torah?

Lord Rabbi Jonathan Sacks zt”l5 points to the word “cherut” to help explain this discrepancy. While the concept of freedom is referenced in the Torah, the Hebrew word commonly associated with freedom, “cherut,” is nowhere to be found in the biblical text. Rather, in the context of emancipating slaves, the term “chofshi”6 is used. The word “chofshi,” explains Rabbi Sacks, relates to freedom from responsibilities and the flexibility to do what you want when you want. This form of privilege reflects freedom of the individual, but does not, on its own, constitute a liberated society. A liberated society is not characterized by an environment in which everyone does as he or she pleases. On the contrary, this would lead to pandemonium, disarray, and individualistic pursuits. In the Torah’s view of freedom, a liberated society is given structure through rules and boundaries, and through the vehicle of these boundaries, members of the society gain the freedom to engage, connect, and pursue lofty goals that elevate both the individual and the collective.7

Building on the value of the structure that the Torah provides, Rabbi Sacks takes this idea one step further. The pasuk in Shemot 32:16 states that the words of G-d were “charut al haLuchot”— engraved on the Luchot. There are two ways to make an inscription. One is through ink inscribed on a material such as paper or parchment. The second is through etching an inscription into a material, such as stone. There is a critical difference between the two. In the former, a foreign body is superimposed on a different material, such as ink on paper. In contrast, when etching a message into stone, there is no foreign body. The inscription becomes one with the material. The rabbis expound on the verse “charut al haLuchot” and teach, “al tikreh charut ela cherut”8 — don’t read “engraved,” rather “free…” True freedom is where there exists a deep oneness between the principles and the people.

The Torah isn’t a body of arbitrary rules that have been designed to keep us in line. Rather, it is a set of laws that is aligned with our deepest essence, that reflects our collective history as a nation, is a response to our experiences in Egypt, and is designed to help us bring out our best selves as individuals and as a nation. This set of laws is not external and foreign to our essence but is deeply bound with our deepest selves and our greatest innate potential. 

Some ba’alei mussar suggest that Shavuot is a time to reflect on the positive impact that the Torah has on our lives. On a personal note, over time, I have come to appreciate not just the compelling rationale behind individual elements of the Torah’s ordinances, but also the form — the structured system of clear guidelines, which provide a sense of clarity, purpose, and containment. Giving charity is certainly a value that I cherish, but the concept of ma’aser (giving one tenth of our income to charity) helps me structure my good intentions. I believe in the virtue of speaking positively about others, but absent the rules of lashon hara, I’m not convinced I would have the self-discipline to refrain from negative speech. I love the idea of family time embedded in a technology-free zone, but without the halachot of Shabbos and yom tov, I am highly skeptical that my family and I would have the strength to create this space. This Shavuot, I will be appreciative of the defined system of religious precepts and moral guidelines that the Torah gives me to help me grow into my best self.

Endnotes

1. Pirkei Avot, 6:2. There are slight variations in the formulation of this statement. See Masechet Kallah Rabati, 5:3; P’sikta Zutrata, Ki Tisa, 32:16.

2. Medrash Tanchuma, Parshat Noach; Tosfot on Shabbat 88a.

3. Shemot, 24, 7.

4. Shabbat 88a.

5. See https://rabbisacks.org/new-concept-freedom/.

6. Shemot, 21,2.

7. For a related idea, see Maharal, Netzach Yisrael, perek 11.

8. Pirkei Avot, 6,2; Pirkei D’Rabbi Eliezer, perek 46.