Mount Sinai and the giving of the Torah stand at the seminal moment of Jewish faith. God spoke directly to three million people. Our faith is not built upon the prophecy of a lone mystic or the vision of a single individual; it rests upon a staggering moment in which an entire nation stood together and heard the voice of God.
However, even within this moment of absolute truth, not everyone heard the same broadcast.
The foundation was shared: Every Jew received the same Torah, the same 613 commandments, and the same covenant at Sinai. Yet each person perceived a personalized dimension of the divine word.
The word of God is so eternal and transcendent that no human being can ever fully encompass it. Different perspectives within Torah are built into the system itself. This is not a flaw. It is part of the Torah’s design.
Mount Sinai and the root of ‘machloket’
Machloket (“debate”) is not merely the product of a once-unified tradition deteriorating across generations. God presented Moses with multiple pathways through which a particular item could be viewed as impure; he was then presented with multiple pathways through which that same item could be viewed as pure.
Halacha demands a single course of action. An item cannot be both impure and pure in practice. Yet each position still reflects part of a broader divine truth which transcends the binary limits of human reasoning. That is precisely why we study every opinion in the Talmud, and not merely those adopted as normative halachic practice.
Just as disagreement is woven into the halachic process, it is also built into the way Torah and commandments are applied within a particular cultural context, what we often call hashkafah.
Torah and commandments are eternal, applying equally in every generation. Hashkafah is the manner in which eternal Torah encounters the changing conditions of history and society. God created people with different temperaments and dispositions, and different approaches and frameworks speak more deeply to different individuals.
A divisive moment
In Israel today, no issue has more sharply divided different communities than the question of haredi non-conscription to the IDF. The debate always existed, but in times of relative calm it simmered beneath the surface. During the past two and a half years of war, especially amid a severe shortage of manpower, the issue has erupted into a painful and divisive argument.
The rabbis teach that a machloket which is l’shem Shamayim – i.e., sincere and rooted in noble values – will endure. Ideological debates do not disappear easily. Arguments driven by petty interests or political maneuvering quickly dissolve once the emptiness beneath them becomes exposed. But debates about Torah study, religious culture, and service in a Jewish army touch upon profound values. These are not shallow disagreements, and they will likely take generations to resolve.
Shared values and the value of Torah study
Shavuot is not the moment to stake out already voiced positions. There is too much pain and too much strife surrounding this issue. Additionally, most people’s positions are already hardened. My own views can easily be traced to where I teach and the community in which I live.
Instead, Shavuot is a time to clarify the greater Torah values at the center of this debate, ensuring that those shared values are not blurred by the intensity of the argument itself. The first of those values is the supremacy of Torah study.
Those who serve in the IDF, as well as those who do not, agree about the larger value of Talmud Torah. It is a supreme value, equated with the entirety of the Torah commandments. Studying the will of God in order to draw closer to Him is a transcendent experience, difficult to compare to other pursuits.
Protecting our land
The current ideological debate is not about the centrality of Torah, but whether commitment to Torah study exempts someone from participating in the defense of our people and our land.
Torah study and Torah commitment are not merely personal religious experiences. They also protect our land and shape our national destiny.
Without pointing to any single miracle, it is clear that our presence in the land of God is supernatural. The degree to which we infuse this society with Torah and commandment observance shapes our security and our survival.
Debates about deferring Torah study for other pursuits have occupied great Jewish thinkers throughout the generations.
The Talmud cites Rabbi Yishmael, who validated engaging in agriculture even at the cost of reduced Torah study.
It then cites Rabbi Shimon Bar Yochai, who advocated a life fully devoted to Torah study, supported by others.
These discussions have unfolded throughout the centuries. However, the question of whether Torah study exempts military service, especially when there is no broad consensus about who qualifies for such an exemption, does not clearly surface in our tradition.
It is supremely important for those who combine Torah study with army service to reaffirm how central Torah study remains.
History advances on two stages: the hidden metaphysical stage and the visible historical stage. Every page of Torah studied advances our nation and protects our land on that hidden stage. Those who serve believe that God asks us to operate on both stages, strengthening the spiritual foundations of our people while also physically defending our country.
There is a danger that those who serve and who feel deep pain toward those who invoke Torah study as an exemption may gradually become less attached to Torah study itself. In their forceful defense of integrating Torah study with military service, they may slowly weaken their own emotional connection to the supreme value of Talmud Torah.
On Shavuot, we recenter Torah study as our supreme value, even as we divert some of its precious human resources toward protecting our people and defending our land.
Preserving religious clarity
Preserving the centrality of Torah also requires intellectual honesty about the achievements of the haredi world. This divisive moment should not blur the extraordinary accomplishments of the post–World War II haredi world. After the Holocaust, the Jewish world lay in ruins, and Torah students and their teachers were not spared. Modern haredi society viewed itself as carrying the responsibility of rebuilding that shattered world of Torah greatness.
In many ways, the explosion of Torah study over the past decades has been driven by the haredi world. The broader Torah community has benefited immensely from the intensity, discipline, and publication of Torah, which this culture generated. Regardless of how one views the current haredi stance, ignoring these accomplishments would be intellectually dishonest and deeply unfair.
This painful moment cannot reshape our core values. Clarifying the difference between the values we share, such as the supremacy of Torah, and the areas in which we genuinely disagree can help ensure the amplification of those common values rather than their erosion through conflict and resentment.
There is another reason why clarifying terms is so important. Ideological struggles can create great confusion and leave lasting scars. There is concern that this debate could lead to broader religious alienation.
Haredim are highly visible representatives of Torah study and religious commitment, and for those who strongly oppose their current stance, frustration with this issue can gradually become frustration with religion itself. This danger is especially acute for younger people forming their religious identity.
Our messaging must remain clear and unmistakable. This is not a debate about whether we value Torah study or how deeply we cherish it. It is a debate about how Torah study is balanced with what many see as the great commandment of protecting our people and defending our land. Clarifying this may help prevent confusion and alienation.■
The writer is a YU-ordained rabbi at the hesder Yeshivat Har Etzion (Gush). His latest book, Reclaiming Redemption, Volume II: Faith, Identity, Peoplehood and the Storms of War, is available at www.mtaraginbooks.com.