Writer’s Guild
The Day after the Shabbat – What an ancient controversy teaches us about nation-building
By Yael Shahar
From the Cardozo Academy Writers Guild
I have asked Yael Shahar, the well-known author of Returning, and member of our Think Tank and Writer’s Guild to share with me the penning of the weekly Thoughts to Ponder Series.
I thank her very much!
Nathan Lopes Cardozo
Shavuot is something of an enigma among Jewish holidays. The two best-known Jewish holidays, Pesach and Sukkot, are observed nowadays according to instructions laid down in Biblical times. The historical context of each holiday is given along with the instructions for its observance.
Not so Shavuot! The modern connection of Shavuot with the giving of the Torah is nowhere to be found in the Torah. The holiday is defined almost exclusively in relation to previous holidays—it is the end of the agricultural cycle which begins during Pesach. Shavuot was called the festival of the wheat harvest, Chag HaKatzir (Exodus 23:16) or a day for bringing first-fruits to the Temple, Yom HaBikkurim (Numbers 28:26), but not Z’man Matan Toratenu, the time of giving of the Law.
Moreover, the Torah doesn’t even specify a date for the holiday. Instead, we are given instructions for a sort of “countdown”: we are to count seven weeks “from the day after the Shabbat, from the day on which you brought the Omer of offering,”(Vayikra 23:15) and then celebrate the bringing of the first fruits. This absence of explicit instructions or explanations left plenty of room for interpretation, and the nature of the holiday became the subject of intense debate among rival factions during the Second Temple era.
The Torah: carved in stone or tree of life?
In fact, this controversy was part of a much larger debate which threatened to split the Jewish nation along sectarian lines. The split hinged on a major difference of opinion over the nature of Jewish society and its foundation texts: Is the Torah a fixed text, unchangeable for all time, or is it a living document meant to be reinterpreted—or even reunderstood—in the light of changing circumstances?
The Sadducees, who were associated with the Temple and its rites, took the more literal view: the Torah is a fixed document, given once and for all. The Pharisees—the first Rabbis—argued that the Torah is the tip of the iceberg, a shorthand reference to deeper strata of customs, legends, and traditions too voluminous to be written down. Since the tradition is built up, layer by layer, in every generation, the Torah is never really finished.
Translated into modern terms, this debate was not about purely religious issues; it was about who had the authority to legislate civil, as well as religious law. The Sadducees maintained that authority should be centralized around the Temple-based elite; the rabbis argued in favor of a decentralized model, based on universal education and local customs.
The day after the Shabbat
And so we come back to the Shavuot controversy, which hinges on a disagreement about when the holiday is to be celebrated. The text tells us to count seven full weeks from “the day after the Sabbath”. But which Sabbath? The Tzadokim (Sadducees) took a literal view: Sabbath meant the actual Sabbath. We start counting on a Sunday and end on a Sunday seven weeks later. According to the Sadducees, this would put Shavuot on a full moon, in line with the natural cycle as befitting a harvest festival.
The rabbis argued that the text can’t be read on its own; there is a long unwritten tradition handed down for centuries, and that tradition identifies this “Sabbath” with the festival of Pesach itself. One starts counting on the day after the full moon of Passover, and Shavuot falls on the sixth of Sivan. And since the sixth of Sivan is one of the dates on which the giving of the Torah was to have taken place, suddenly Shavuot had a new association!
Recently, modern Biblical scholarship has thrown a new light on this ancient controversy. In an article for The Torah, Bible scholar Jacob Wright traces the origin of the Shabbat through the literature of the ancient Near East. The Shabbat, it seems, once referred to the full moon, a time of festival.
Could this ancient association have survived in the traditions handed down over the ages? If so, then the rabbis had good reason to interpret the Torah as they did—they were interpreting the text as it might have been understood at the time of transmission, before the word “Shabbat” had come to have the association it later acquired. They were right: the Torah is a living, changing document!
The lessons of the harvest
In linking the harvest festival with the Giving of the Torah, the sages reframed Shavuot in the context of Jewish history. At the same time, they preserved the holiday’s relevance when the Temple lay in ruins and the first fruits could no longer be brought there. It was a master-stroke of nation-building, as it turned a holiday celebrating agricultural success—meaningful to individuals—into a celebration of a national event, an event that united twelve disparate tribes into a people.
Under this new interpretation, the “countdown” from Pesach to Shavuot can be seen as a metaphor for the unfolding of history. Just as seeds must be sown in prepared ground, nourished and watered and weeded, so the fate of nations and individuals is contingent upon law and justice.
The reframing of Shavuot is an example of how the nation’s leaders sought to mold a society that could survive in exile. In our day, our leaders are faced with the same problem in reverse: how to build a Jewish society that can hold together as a free people in our own land.
The response of Israeli society in wake of the October 7th attacks revealed something interesting on this score. The model of distributed, from-the-ground-up, authority that worked so well for a nation in exile once more came to the fore. While government ministries were hamstrung by beuaracracy and lack of clarity, local volunteer organizations sprang into action. Within hours they had mobilized to help those affected, providing emergency aid to evacuees, rescuing stranded people and pets, finding temporary housing for evacuees. Distribution centers for aid were set up, carpools organized to get soldiers to their units, and apps were programmed to help people find missing relatives.
In short, all those things that one would normally expect governments to provide were organized with surprising speed and efficiency at the grassroots level. But perhaps we shouldn’t be surprised. After all, this is exactly the decentralized model of leadership for which the first rabbis argued, and which is uniquely suited to an increasingly decentralized world. It turns out they were right about more than just when to celebrate Shavuot!
Yael Shahar
After an adventurous and unattributable career in security and intelligence, Yael Shahar now divides her time between writing about Jewish philosophy and learning Talmud with anyone who will sit still long enough. She is the author of Returning, a remarkable true story of spiritual resilience. Her writing on Jewish history and philosophy can be found at www.yaelshahar.com.