In a fractured world where divisions seem to multiply daily, my thoughts return to that singular moment at Mount Sinai that we commemorate each Shavuot. There, beneath the mountain, we all stood—not as tribes or factions, but as one unified people. The sages describe this rare moment of complete solidarity with the phrase K’ish achad, belev achad, “As one person with one heart.”
What strikes me most about this ancient scene isn’t what Charlton Heston portrayed in the iconic film “The Ten Commandments” or even the animated opus by DreamWorks, “The Prince of Egypt.” What is paramount is that even before hearing the content of the Torah, our ancestors proclaimed with one voice: Na’aseh V’nishmah, “We will do, and we will listen.” Even before receiving a single commandment, they committed themselves and their descendants to this way of life. This extraordinary declaration is not merely a collective promise; it is a generational dedication to a living, breathing form of education.
It is therefore no surprise that the Torah has inspired such devotion for millennia, and why Jews throughout history have been willing to live and die for its teachings. The Torah is more than sacred literature; it is our nation’s mission statement, a blueprint for both individual development and collective purpose.
Today’s Jewish community bears little resemblance to that unified gathering at Sinai. We argue about politics, religious practice, Israel and even the “right” way to make kugel. Yet Shavuot arrives each year to remind us that our greatest moments came through unity, not uniformity.
Therein lies the secret sauce. The pages of our ancient texts are filled with passionate arguments and differing opinions. Yet our rabbis found ways to gather around the same Passover seder table. Disagreement was never a barrier to community; it was a foundation for it.
Our educational system must take its cue from the “Sinai model” that values unity over uniformity. Research shows that when students feel respected and genuinely part of a cohesive community, true education flourishes. We do not condone enforcing sameness; rather, we must cultivate belonging for authentic learning to truly thrive.
The Talmud teaches that the children of Israel, past, present and future, heard the voice of God according to their own capacity; evidence that honors individual learning styles. In today’s age of wokeness and liberalism, we must foster environments where differences are respected, even cherished.
Beyond pedagogy, the Torah’s approach to knowledge offers another revolutionary concept. Unlike educational systems fixated solely on information acquisition, Torah learning demands transformation. Knowledge that doesn’t shape character isn’t education at all—it’s merely data storage.
In our information-saturated age, where any fact is instantly accessible, but wisdom remains elusive, this distinction is profoundly important. True education isn’t measured by memorized facts, but by the people we become through learning. When schools teach ethics alongside engineering, compassion alongside chemistry and responsibility alongside reading, they carry forward Sinai’s legacy.
Today’s reality reflects a painful departure from these ancient ideals. Learning has become synonymous with test performance, respect for educators is in decline and a one-size-fits-all mentality has replaced a personalized approach to learning.
As we approach Shavuot this year, we must return to the basics—to the blueprints laid out in the Torah. We must build on those ancient principles of unity, transformative knowledge and lifelong learning. They offer not just a path forward for the Jewish people, but a vision of educational renewal for all.
The moment at Sinai wasn’t just about receiving information—it was about forging a people with shared purpose. Today’s challenges demand nothing less than this holistic vision. As the late Rabbi Jonathan Sacks memorably wrote: “When we learn together, we journey together. Learning is the most intimate of journeys. … When we study the texts of our heritage, we join the greatest conversation the Jewish people ever held, one that has continued for more than 3,000 years.”