Most families in America have read about the dangers of exposing our children to (too much) television -- the bad values, the passivity, the obesity.

There seem to be fewer articles discussing the damage television watching can do to a marriage -- the bad values, the passivity, the obesity...

Television provides a distraction -- a distraction from work-related aggravation, a distraction from struggles with our children, a distraction from unfulfilled dreams, a distraction from our spouses. Instead of discussion over the dinner table, we turn on the TV. Instead of an after-dinner walk and catch-up, we turn on the TV. Instead of sharing quiet time and important thoughts, we turn on the TV. And instead of late night intimacy, we also turn on the TV. Clicking the remote is both a literal and figurative expression.

This isn't about the confusing messages or values (or lack thereof) of the medium. The noise, the fantasy, the distraction alone tears us apart.

Sure it's easier to turn on the television than to engage with a spouse. But television is cold comfort when your wife decides she's had enough. Even ESPN won't do it then. It's limited company when your husband throws in the towel. And nothing they do on "Days of Our Lives" can compensate.

Yes, there are educational shows. Yes, there are powerful moments. There may even be programs that couples can watch together and connect through the shared experience.

But those are the rarer moments. Television is meant to be an escape. But when escape takes up more of our time and energy than reality, we're in trouble. When watching other people's marriages takes precedence over living our own, something is lost. Let's turn the TV off before it's too late to get it back.

We are entering the Hebrew month of Sivan. The central event to take place in this month (and arguably in all recorded history) is God giving the Torah to the Jews at Mount Sinai.

Sivan is the third month of the Hebrew calendar if we begin our count from Nissan, the month of our liberation from Egypt, which is the way months are counted in the Torah. Three is a portentous number in Judaism. Moses was the third child in his family. The Israelites began the three-day process of preparing themselves to receive the Torah on the third of Sivan. God divided the Jews into three groups with different roles: the Kohanim, the Leviites, and the rest of the Jews, Yisrael.

Before we explore the mystical connotation of the number three, we have to understand what "truth" really is. Truth means a lot more than mere verbal accuracy. The mystical name for truth is Tiferet, which literally means "harmony" – not exactly the association most of us have with truth. What's the connection?

The Maharal, the famous renaissance-era Kabbalist, defines truth as: the entire picture. It includes past, present and future; it includes internal reality and its external counterpoint. It is a synthesis of the whole – harmony. If something is true at all, it must be true spiritually, physically, mathematically, and philosophically. If an idea "works" on one level, but doesn't on any of the other levels, it is not truth in the purest sense of the word.

We humans are mortal, which pretty well cuts us off from any foolproof vision of the future. Our access to anything that took place before we were born is colored by other people's interpretations of the past. Add a healthy scoop of emotional subjectivity even to our observations of the present, and it seems that our search for truth is doomed.

Transcendent truth, by definition, comes from a place above time and space. The Maharal regards transcendent truth as the only real truth. The only time we had access to it was at Mount Sinai, when we heard the voice of God.

ABOVE AND BEYOND

From this perspective, we can begin to examine the significance of the number three. The Maharal tells us to imagine a link chain. When you hold it up, the first link touches the second one. The second one touches both the first link and the third one. The third one touches the second one and not the first. Thus the third link is the first in the series that doesn't have any connection to the first link. The number three thus symbolizes something new, but not disconnected.

The Maharal refers to this quality (new, but not disconnected) as "nivdal", which means in Hebrew separate or transcendent; it is part of a process, but also beyond it. Thus, for example, Moses, the third child in his family, was connected to the heritage of monotheism that Abraham initiated, but he took it a step further, giving his people a sense of nationhood based on the Torah.

The month of Sivan is connected historically to Nissan, the month of liberation. In Sivan, however, the Jews went a step beyond physical freedom and became spiritually autonomous, defined only by the Torah, God's word. Nivdal. Connected but new. Part of the process, but also beyond it.

ON THE TRAIN PLATFORM

What does it mean to live with transcendence? I recently had an experience that gave me new insight into seeing how deeply this seemingly abstract concept affects me in my day-to-day thinking.

I was in New Jersey, heading to Sequacus at the Metrotrack station. It was about 2:00pm and the platform was almost empty. The only fellow travelers in sight were two women and a man. Suddenly, one of the women, standing quite close to me, lost her balance and fell backwards. I immediately bent over to help her get up. Although her eyes were open, she made no response. She was unconscious.

The second woman on the platform approached. She asked me if I knew first aid. I replied that I didn't, and she claimed that she also didn't know first aid, but she bent down and took the prostrate woman's pulse. When she saw that there was no pulse, she immediately began administering C.P.R. Clearly, she knew what she was doing.

In the meantime I called 911. Five minutes passed. The woman looked at me, exhausted. Copying what I had seen her do, I relieved her. Soon, a policeman appeared. I was appalled. We needed a medic, not a policeman! He began to administer mouth-to-mouth resuscitation, clearly the only first aid response he knew.

The platform suddenly shook with the vibrations of an arriving train. The woman who began the C.P.R, the one person who really knew what to do, muttered something about intubations and boarded the train. I looked on in horror. A person was dying, and she found it necessary to catch her train!

Within a few minutes the ambulance crew finally arrived. Later, when recounting the episode, I was bothered by how the woman who was, by default, supervising the rescue effort could have simply left to catch her train. How important could a business meeting or a shopping date or even a chemo session be when compared to saving a life?

The answer illustrates the opposite of nivdal. If I had asked her that question the day before, she would certainly have answered, "Saving a life is more important." She certainly knows the transcendent truth. The problem is that when the train actually roared into the station, she was caught up with the reality of here and now. Physical reality is so vivid and immediate, that it eclipses transcendent reality.

And what would nivdal look like? Imagine that the woman who knew CPR had an appointment for a job interview for her dream job. Imagine that the train to that place came only once every three hours. Imagine that she had been unemployed for six months, and really needed that job. And now imagine that it was so clear to her that saving a life is more important than any of the above, that, when her train came, she chose to stay with the woman until the medics arrived, and she knew, without hesitation or regret, that that was the right choice. That's nivdal. It is living connected to the higher truth that the mere external reality conveys.

Receiving Torah is the ultimate nivdal. It is a commitment to go beyond the immediate, the vivid, and the seemingly real, and to get to the transcendent, inclusive picture that is the essence of truth.

MAZAL OF THE MONTH -- GEMINI

Moses was not the only one who brought the Jewish people to a place where they could hear the truth. His brother Aaron acted as his spokesperson from the early days in Egypt, when he arrived at Pharaoh's palace with the outrageous demand that he free the Jews. Each one of them played a role in expanding our consciousness in a specific and unique way. Moses was the ultimate lawgiver. He transmitted the commandments that teach us where the lines have to be drawn if we are to rise above pseudo truth and enter the realm of absolute transcendental truth. His brother Aaron approached each Jew with love, and brought forth the hidden yearning to live a life higher and more encompassing than the every day. Justice and love were intertwined; it is no coincidence that this month's sign is Gemini, the twins.

THE BOOK OF RUTH

Each of the three pilgrim festivals (Pesach Shavuot and Sukkot, which were celebrated in ancient times by a nationwide trek to Jerusalem) has a specific focus. On each, a different Megillah is read, narrating a particular aspect of the story of our relationship with God.

On Shavuot, we read the story of Ruth, the Moabite princess who abandoned everything safe and familiar to follow her mother-in-law Naomi to Israel, to a life of physical rigor and spiritual truth. Her story is the story of all of us this month, as we try to move beyond our limited grasp of truth and move closer to the whole picture we saw at Sinai.

For the weekly Torah portion in Israel, please click here: http://www.aish.com/torahportion/kolyaako v/Permission_to_Protect.asp" title="http://www.aish.com/torahportion/kolyaako v/Permission_to_Protect.asp" target="_blank"http://www.aish.com/torahport...

Passover has its Seder. Purim has its Megillah Reading. Chanukah has its Menorah. Sukkot has its Sukkah.

Shavuot, however, seems to be quite a barren holiday in terms of mitzvot, rituals, and commandments. True, many have a custom to remain awake the entire night studying Torah on Shavuot, but this is a custom that developed and not an obligatory law. The Torah does not prescribe any particular directive to be performed on Shavuot. This unique aspect of Shavuot in contrast to the other Festivals is extremely surprising.

Shavuot is certainly a more significant, more inspirational Festival than any of the others. The others derive their validity, both legal and spiritual, from the Giving of the Torah which occurred on Shavuot. Why then must we struggle to find meaning and growth from Shavuot? Beyond the special sacrifices brought on the Festival, why shouldn't the Torah assist us, as it characteristically does, by requiring an observance of some kind that would call to mind the Giving of the Torah? Why isn't there an obligation to recount the story of Sinai on Shavuot similar to the commandment on Passover to tell of the Exodus?

More questions:

The name Shavuot means 'Festival of Weeks.' We refer to it as such in the 'Shemoneh Esrai' prayers of the holiday. It is derived from verses in various places in the Torah. In Shemot 34:22, it is called the holiday of 'Shavuot,' and in Devarim 16:9-10, the Torah states: "Seven weeks shall you count; from when the sickle is first used on the standing crops, you should begin counting seven weeks. Then you should observe the Holiday of Weeks."

We see clearly that the name 'Weeks' is a descriptive culmination of the 49 days/7 weeks count which began on Passover.

Strange. Wouldn't it have made more sense for the holiday to be called 'Festival of Torah'? Even if for whatever reason that name would be rejected, the name 'Weeks' seems quite dry and incidental. True, we just completed a count of seven weeks, but why is it important to call the Festival 'Weeks'? Are we celebrating the weeks counted or the Day of the Giving of the Torah?

In addition, the Torah never refers to Shavuot by a particular calendar date as it does with all other holidays. Passover is described as the 15th of Nissan; Sukkot the 15th of Tishrei, etc. Yet, Shavuot is 'Seven weeks or 49 days after Passover.' The Torah implies that if theoretically no one would count the seven weeks, Shavuot would not take place that year. Shavuot can only exist when and if the counting preparations have occurred. Why does Shavuot have this unique aspect?

It would appear, evidently, that we are indeed rejoicing in 'Weeks.' The purpose of the Counting period is to enable us to prepare for receiving the Torah. (See "Of Sefira Beards and Beacons Gone Bad" ) We cannot expect to accept the Torah without adequate preparation. In receiving the Torah we are entering into a marriage with God. Any good marriage consists of a man and woman who have grown spiritually and emotionally throughout their lives as individuals, thus preparing themselves through self-growth for bonding with another person. Without proper preparation, a marriage begins on shaky ground.

Similarly, we must prepare ourselves for God's giving of the Torah. If we would not prepare for receiving the Torah, it would be impossible for the Torah's goals, directives and instructions to stick to us and make an impact. We must first become people worthy of hearing the Torah's sophisticated message. We must work on our character and only then can we utilize and apply the Torah. This idea is expressed in Pirkei Avot (3:21): "If there is no character(derech eretz), there is no Torah."

So God established a holiday in which we rejoice in the weeks spent in preparation for Shavuot. We revel in the beautiful and refined people that we have become as a result of the previous seven weeks, knowing that it is only due to this tremendous self-improvement that we merit receiving a Torah, carrying out God's plans for the world through His Instructions for Living

Celebrating the counting and preparations also brings to life the concept of the application of Torah being primary and not just intellectual study, even if one studies with sincere and holy intentions. The goal of study is to impact upon all of our actions and thoughts in fulfilling the entirety of Torah's 613 laws. On Shavuot we accept and re-commit ourselves to the wholeness of Torah.

This clarifies a common misconception regarding Shavuot and returns us to our opening question as to why Shavuot has no specific mitzvah or observance prescribed.

Generally, it is understood that the focus of Shavuot is Talmud Torah, the commandment to study Torah. While this may be true if measured by a standard of time -- we do spend the entire Shavuot night studying Torah -- nevertheless it is inaccurate.

The focus of Shavuot should be a re-establishment of our connection to the entire Torah, with all of its laws, because it is on this day that we received the Torah. Whenever we experience a festival, we are not simply commemorating an event but we are re-living it. Every festival is an opportunity for growth because the festival is infused with spiritual forces that were unleashed due to some historical event (see Rav Eliyahu Dessler's Michtav Me'Eliyahu, Volume 2, page 21 for an elaboration on this concept).

On Shavuot the Jewish People received and accepted the Torah. Thus, every year we accept the Torah anew and we must find ways in our personal service of God to strengthen our commitment to Torah.

Perhaps, it is for this reason that the Torah does not prescribe a specific ritual observance for Shavuot. On other holidays, the Torah gives specific directions both in the letter and the spirit of the laws. At times, one can "get lost" in the performance of the ritual and fail to achieve significant general growth due to a lack of focus on the meaning of the festival. The Torah accounts for this, but for most holidays, allows the fulfillment of an observance to suffice.

On Shavuot, however, the Torah does not want us to become "distracted" by the performance of any specific commandment. The Giving of the Torah is far too powerful and all encompassing to enable any expression of specific ritual through physical action to be meaningful. The Torah includes all commandments. A mitzvah ritual obligation would actually detract, not enhance the general goal of a re-commitment to the entire Torah on Shavuot.

We learn all night and as much as possible on Shavuot to show how precious the Torah is to us and to express our great desire to know all of God's Torah. It is only through knowledge of the Torah that we can begin to allow it to impact upon us as people. Only through the knowledge of Torah will our character improve. And only through the knowledge of Torah can we hope to re-commit ourselves to it and its laws.

Learn hard on Shavuot but remember to re-accept the entire Torah, all 613 commandments, as well.

For the next few weeks, the Torah portion read in Israel will be different than the Torah portion read in the rest of the world.

For the weekly Torah portion that will be read in Israel, click here: http://www.aish.com/torahportion/moray/Di vine_Abundance.asp" title="http://www.aish.com/torahportion/moray/Di vine_Abundance.asp" target="_blank"http://www.aish.com/torahport...

Shavuot is a somewhat elusive holiday. While the Torah clearly states the historical events commemorated on Pesach¹ and Sukkot² , no such connection is clearly drawn between Shavuot and any historical event. Rather, the Torah's description of Shavuot is agricultural: The nation is commanded to bring their first fruits to Jerusalem.

The only description of Shavuot is as the holiday of first fruits; no historical explanation is offered. On the other hand, Pesach and Sukkot, aside from their own agricultural identity, are described in the Torah as the holidays that commemorate the Exodus from Egypt and the sojourn in the desert, respectively. Apparently, the Torah weaves the agricultural date into an historical holiday in order to provide deeper meaning and to heighten the farmers' religious experience: The three yearly pilgrimages were tied into the agricultural cycle, in addition to the historical/ theological significance of each holiday, creating a merger of the physical and spiritual realms, and heightened historical consciousness.³

Of the three major celebrations, only Shavuot is left without a clear "historical" connection, a fact made all the more striking by the monumental nature of the event which transpired at the same time of year (beginning of the third month) in the desert that first year after leaving Egypt: the Giving of the Torah.

In the third month, when the People of Israel went forth out of the land of Egypt, the same day came they into the wilderness of Sinai...And the Lord said to Moshe, 'Go to the people, and sanctify them today and tomorrow, and let them wash their clothes, And be ready by the third day; for the third day the Lord will come down in the sight of all the people upon Mount Sinai. [Shmot 1,10]

Fairly simple mathematics places the giving of the Torah more or less at the same time as the holiday of Shavuot⁴, though arguably not on the exact day:

Our Rabbis taught: On the sixth day of the month [Sivan] were the Ten Commandments given to Israel. R. Yose maintained: On the seventh thereof. [Shabbat 86b]

While this may seem strange we must keep in mind that in the days when the months were consecrated by the courts after witnesses testified that they saw the new moon, it was possible for the holiday of Shavuot to fall on the fifth, sixth or seventh day of Sivan⁵ and still coincide with the Giving of the Torah.

Nonetheless, a problem remains: According to the chronology recorded in the Talmud, the Jews left Egypt on a Thursday and the Torah was given on Shabbat, which would be fifty-one days --and not fifty-- after Pesach.

The Magen Avraham (Orach Chaim section 494) insists that the law is actually decided in accordance with the opinion of Rabbi Yossi cited above: the Torah was given on the fifty-first day after Pesach, the seventh day of Sivan. While the Magen Avraham therefore questioned the appropriateness of calling Shavuot "the day the Torah was given," we should note that the liturgy actually calls Shavuot "Zman Matan Toratenu", the time of the giving of the Torah, not necessarily implying the precise day.

Rav Shimshon Rafael Hirsch (commentary to Vayikra 23:21) suggested that the essence of Shavuot is not the giving of the Torah but the preparedness of man to accept the Torah. Just as the Jews in the desert prepared themselves to accept the Torah, so must we. This would alleviate the difficulty of assigning the date of the holiday to the sixth day of the month, which is not necessarily the day the Torah was given, but was, in fact, the day the People of Israel prepared themselves to receive it. This understanding is borne out by the choice of Torah reading for Shavuot, Chapter 19 of Shmot, which begins with the preparations made to receive the Torah.

The Torah itself remains silent regarding the relationship of the Giving of the Torah to the bringing of the first fruits. We are not told the date of the holiday – either of Shavuot or the giving of the Torah. Shavuot is fifty days after the Exodus, and the Giving of the Torah is in the beginning of the third month. While the connection between Shavuot and the Revelation is obscured in the Torah, the association was maintained by tradition.⁶

One expression of this tradition may be found in the Torah reading, the Sages' means of capturing and transmitting the spirit of the day. This is true for both the "primary" Torah reading as well as the "secondary" Haftorah reading. Regarding Shavuot we are told the following:

The difference between the two choices of Torah reading is telling: the section in Devraim describes the "Festival of Weeks"--Shavuot. This holiday is mentioned in various sections of the Torah. It describes an agricultural holiday, celebrated by bringing the first fruits to Jerusalem. The section in Shmot describes the Revelation, which links Shavuot with Matan Torah. According to the Mishna and the first opinion expressed in the Talmud, the reading for the first day is about Shavuot – the agricultural holiday, and the second day is about the Giving of the Torah. The conclusion of the Gemara is that on the first day of Shavuot we read the 19th chapter in Shmot, which describes the giving of the Torah, the Revelation and Decalogue, while on the second day (in the Diaspora) we read the description of the Holiday of Shavuot in Devarim (16:9). The irony is that it is possible that the Torah was actually given on what would eventually become the "s econd day" of Shavuot – hence the reading on the second day reflected the giving of the Torah, while the first day reflected the holiday of Shavuot.

The haftarah reading for the "first day" is the description of the Divine Chariot, and for the "second day" the section of Habakuk which mentions the giving of the Torah⁷ (and provides an overview of the years in the desert, and the conquest of the Land of Israel). Notably, both choices of the haftarah are related to the giving of the Torah and ignore the agricultural motif. The Rabbis always knew of the relationship between Shavuot and the giving of the Torah; perhaps, taking their cue from the Torah's silence, they too were reticent about openly declaring the relationship.

The final choice for the first day is the Prophesy of Yechezkel, known as the Chariot of Yehezkel. This section seems the most appropriate match for the section in Shmot that describes the Revelation; by choosing this as the haftarah, Chaz"al instruct us as to the nature of Shavuot while teaching us an important lesson about the Revelation. There are two distinct aspects of the Revelation to consider: first, the content of the Revelation and second, the fact that there was a Revelation at all– namely, that the Creator and Sustainer of the universe "descended" upon a mountain and made Himself "known". Upon reflection, we realize that the fact of Revelation is of primary importance: The content would have no significance had it not been for the fact that God Himself said these things. On the other hand, even had the Revelation been devoid of content, it would still have been of incredible religious significance, in and of itself, as a ren dezvous between man and God. It is this theme of revelation per se which is highlighted by the choice of the haftarah of Yechezkel.

The Merkava (Chariot) deals with the Revelation witnessed by Yechezkel:

And it came to pass in the thirtieth year, in the fourth month, in the fifth day of the month, as I was among the exiles by the Kevar River, that the heavens were opened, and I saw visions of God. [Yehezkel 1:1]

The ensuing chapter provides an elaborate description of Divinity. The images are stark yet mysterious; the symbols are illusive yet tantalizing. More than any another scriptural prophesy, this section became associated with mystical knowledge and exploration.⁸

There may be another message being communicated by this choice. The Prophesy of the Chariot is actually an unlikely candidate for haftarah reading at any time. The Rabbis teach in the Mishna that there are those who believe that the Chariot may never be read in public as a haftarah:

The portion of the chariot is not read as a haftarah, but R. Judah permits this. [Megilah 25a]

Why were the Rabbis hesitant to publicly read about the Chariot? The Mishna taught that this section may not be taught in public – not even to a small group of initiates:

The [subject of] forbidden relations may not be expounded in the presence of three, nor the Work of Creation in the presence of two, nor [the Work of] the Chariot in the presence of one, unless he is a sage and understands of his own knowledge. [Chagigah 11b]

So intense and mystical is the teaching of the Chariot that it was not to be taught or even read publicly. Too much would be revealed.

It is the glory of God to conceal a thing [Mishlei 25:2]

The choice of this section for this day speaks volumes: Though on other occasions it would be more prudent to conceal, on this day we may reveal a bit, for on this day Revelation took place. Even post- Revelation man must realize that there is so much about God that we cannot know and indeed will never know. On this day of Revelation, perhaps we should even conceal that something was revealed, yet we boldly read about the Revelation and follow with the description of the Chariot. We know that something - perhaps better concealed - was revealed. By choosing the haftarah of the Merkava, the rabbis were expressing their ambivalence in identifying Revelation as the key aspect of the day, and subtly telling us to be careful with our conclusions. The challenge of revelation is to avoid hubris; man may become overconfident, deluded into thinking he understands what may actually elude him. To avoid this pitfall, revelation must be obscured and protected. Ultimatel y if man wishes to understand God and His ways, the only way to reveal this secret is to learn His Torah and perform His commandments. This is the gift of Revelation with which we are entrusted throughout the year; the content of the Revelation at Sinai is the key to unlocking the secrets of the Revelation itself.

Accessing Revelation is not something that is limited to one day on the calendar; we are enjoined to see every day as if the Torah was given anew on that day.⁹ Receiving the Torah is not limited to one day a year.

COMMAND YOU THIS DAY. This suggests that they should ever be to you as new commandments, as though you had heard them for the first time on that day (Siphre on v 32)[Rashi Dvarim 11:19]

The Torah writes at the conclusion of the first fruit ceremony:

This day the Lord your God has commanded you to do these statutes and judgments; you shall therefore keep and do them with all your heart, and with all your soul. [Dvarim 26:16]

Rashi comments are instructive:

THIS DAY THE LORD YOUR GOD HAS COMMANDED YOU: This suggests - each day they (God's commandments) should be to you as something new (not antiquated and something of which you have become tired), as though you had received the commands that very day for the first time. [Rashi, Dvarim 26:16]

How interesting that specifically on the holiday of Shavuot, at the celebration of the first fruits, we are commanded to think and act as if the Torah was given on that very day! We now know that, in fact, it was.

Our attitude toward Torah should be as if it were given on each and every day. Perhaps this frame of mind takes us back to the first fruits: The man who has worked so hard during the entire year now has the fruits of his labor in his hands. He experiences a sense of renewal and completion. The first fruits were a living example of what man's orientation to Torah should be – a sense of newness and freshness coupled with resolve to continue, a recognition of hard work coupled with an appreciation of its rewards. Remarkably, the ceremony which accompanied the First Fruit Offering included a revelation – a Bat Kol calling on man to continue onward:

THOU SHALT THEREFORE KEEP AND DO THEM. A heavenly voice ("Bat kol") pronounces by these words a blessing upon him (the worshipper) - "Thou hast brought the first fruits to-day - thou wilt be privileged to do so next year, too!" [Rashi Dvarim 26:16]

The themes of Revelation and first fruits are inseparably intertwined in the holiday of Shavuot. The window between the revealed and the concealed is opened for us on this singular holiday, and the content and purpose of the Revelation at Sinai, the Torah and its commandments, is wrapped around the more familiar and accessible agricultural aspects of the day. As we offer the first fruits of our physical labor before God, the physical bounty with which we have been blessed serves as a reminder of the personal and national destiny we accepted at Sinai. In the final analysis, the holiday of the First Fruits was about receiving the Torah all along, about the medium and the message of Revelation.