Every year around Shavuot, people start talking about cheesecake, all-night learning and staying awake until sunrise.
And honestly, I love all of it.
There is something powerful about walking into a synagogue late at night and seeing Jews still learning Torah together. In a world that moves so fast, there is something beautiful about traditions that have lasted thousands of years.
But this year, I keep thinking about a more foundational part of Shavuot. I keep thinking about Mount Sinai. Not just as a moment when the Torah was given, but as the moment the Jewish people accepted responsibility for each other. That feels very real right now.
Since the Hamas-led terrorist attacks in Israel on Oct. 7, 2023, I’ve watched something shift inside the Jewish community, especially among teens. For many Jewish students in public schools, the world suddenly feels different.
Students who used to wear Jewish stars without thinking twice now wonder whether they should tuck them into their shirts before class. Teens who never thought deeply about being Jewish are suddenly asking enormous questions about identity, belonging, and what Judaism actually means to them.
And at the same time, I’ve also seen something else. I’ve seen students searching.
Not searching for arguments. Not searching for headlines. Searching for something deeper.
Teens often stay after JSU clubs just to ask questions they were nervous to ask before. How do I pray? What does Shabbat actually mean? Why have Jews survived this long? What does Judaism expect from me?
For years, many Jewish teens felt like Judaism was mostly something inherited: family, holidays, culture, traditions. Many are starting to realize Judaism is also something you choose to carry.
That is what I think Naaseh V’Nishma—“We will do, and we will listen”—really means.
When the Jewish people stood at Sinai, they famously said: “We will do, and we will understand.”
That has always struck me as one of the most countercultural ideas in Judaism. Most people want the opposite. We want every answer before commitment. We want certainty before responsibility.
But Jewish life rarely works that way. Meaning often comes through the doing. You show up to a Shabbat dinner, you walk into a Jewish space, you learn a little more Torah. You say yes to being part of something bigger than yourself.
And slowly, something begins to feel real. I think that is what many Jews are craving right now.
We live in a culture that tells people to avoid obligation, avoid discomfort and build identity entirely around the self. But eventually, people start feeling how empty that can become.
Judaism offers something different. It says that responsibility matters. Community matters. Showing up for other Jews matters.
At Sinai, the Jewish people did not become connected only by belief. They became connected by shared purpose. Every generation has to decide whether they will carry that forward. That decision does not only belong to rabbis or educators. It belongs to every Jew.
For some people, reconnecting may look like deeper Torah learning or greater religious observance. For others, it may begin much smaller: walking into a Shavuot program, going to a JSU club, asking questions, having one honest conversation about Judaism without cynicism or embarrassment. The important thing is that we keep showing up.
The Jewish future will not be built by fear alone. It will be built by Jews who feel connected enough, proud enough and responsible enough to carry Judaism forward to the next generation. To me, that is the real message of Shavuot this year.
Not only that the Torah was given once at Sinai. But that every generation must decide whether it is willing to receive it again.
