Receiving the Torah Annually
The festival of Shavuot is not merely a commemoration of an event that took place over three and a half thousand years ago. As Ramchal explains, a Torah festival means far more than a commemoration: “On each of these special days, something happened whereby at this time a great rectification was accomplished and a great Light shone. The Highest Wisdom decreed that on every anniversary of this period, a counterpart of its original Light should shine forth, and the results of its rectification renewed to those who accept it.” ((Derech Hashem 4:7:4.))
On Shavuot, this idea goes beyond theory and has a full halachic ramification. Shulchan Aruch rules that it is forbidden to let blood—a practice that was common until the recent century for health purposes (and which some advocate even today)—on festival eves. ((Orach Chayim 468:10)) The reason for the prohibition, as Mishnah Berurah (based on the Gemara) explains, is that the eve of Shavuot is a dangerous time: a Divine emissary of destruction is sent forth, ready to attack should Israel fail to accept the Torah. ((Mishnah Berurah 468:38.)) The prohibition of bloodletting on other festival eves was made to safeguard the prohibition of Shavuot eve.
Clearly, then, there is a renewed acceptance of the Torah each year—for were it not for the renewed acceptance, there would be no danger.
This leads us to a patent question. If each of us is born with a unique portion in Torah, what is it that we receive on Shavuot? We live in the post-Sinai era. From the moment we are born we begin to live our lives in accordance with our portion in Torah; from the day we start to learn Torah and fulfill mitzvos we do so with our individual strengths and capacities. Day by day, and year after year, as we continue to study Torah and fulfill its precepts, we approach the completion of our part of Torah.
What then is it that we receive yearly on Shavuot, as we come once more before Sinai to receive Torah? Surely the Torah, including our personal portion of it, is ours before Shavuot just as much as after Shavuot?
A Flawed Earth and a Perfect Sea
The verse in Iyov, as interpreted by Chazal ((Eiruvin 21a.)) parallels Torah to both the vastness of the land and the expanse of the sea. To quote, the Torah is “longer than the measure of land, and wider than the sea.” ((Iyov 11:9.)) What is the dual implication of land and water, and indeed of length and breadth, with regard to the greatness of Torah?
Explaining this begins with understanding the basic difference between the land and the sea. The land is the place of humankind’s dwelling, the firmament on which we are able to live. As Ramban points out, ((Bereishis 1:10.)) the land is therefore the place of our avodah, established for labors of Torah that we perform before G-d.
It follows that the land displays an inherent element of imperfection; were it perfect, we would be left with no avodah to perform. The service that we offer Hashem is to rectify the imperfections that remained ingrained at the time of the Creation, and the flaws that were multiplied through human sin. The completion of our avodah will come when the inner flaw within our world has been completely mended.
In terms of our surroundings, this flaw is expressed in the work that must be performed before raw material is rendered fit for human use and consumption, and in the mitzvos involved therein. Chazal teach that in Days to Come the land is destined to produce entire loaves of bread, ready for us to pick and eat. ((Shabbos 30b.)) Until that time, we must go through the seven labors listed by the Gemara that transform wheat into bread. In a similar vein, the mitzvos of shechita, the laws of terumos and maaseros, and other mitzvos involved in preparing raw material for human consumption, are all indicative of the same flaw latent in the world we know.
The exception to this is the sea. The fish that occupy the oceans, in contrast to land animals, do not require the rectification of shechitah. Their preparation for human consumption involves no mitzvos—they are ready to eat as soon as they are removed from the water they inhabit. Furthermore, the only foods that require no preliminary blessing are water and salt—both of which originate in the sea.
The implication of this is that the sea and its contents are somehow removed from the realms of humankind and his service of rectification. Just as the sea is not a dwelling place suitable for humankind, so its contents somehow transcend the level of our avodah. The blessing before foods, which is a part of our labors of rectification, is thus inappropriate regarding water and salt. The sea does not possess the flaw inherent to land.
