Page 30 - Harlem Shavuot Companion 2020

Tikkun Leil 2020: Studying in Solitude
By Aaron Portman, Rabbinical Student at Yeshivat Chovevei Torah

One of the most powerful rituals of Shavuot is the
tikkun leil. We stay up all night studying and learning
together in preparation for the receiving of the Torah.
The tikkun, which means “to fix,” is often associated
with the fact that the ancient Israelites fell asleep at
the foot of Mount Sinai. In order to make amends for
the mistakes of our ancestors, we stay up all night, in
infinite expectation of revelation. We study to show
our excitement, our nervousness, and our readiness
for an encounter with the Divine.

But what if our all-nighter is more than just a remedy for past mistakes? How might we reimagine
the tikkun leil as an act of creation and immediacy, not merely as a pro forma remedial ritual? As
well, what might it mean to spend all night engaged in study while we are confined to our homes?
Usually, students of this night can be found descending on synagogues, JCCs, and apartments to
engage in Torah study with others, as it says in Pirkei Avot (3:2), “when two come together and
Torah is shared, the Divine Presence rests between them.” What happens to our Torah study in
isolation? Can we truly prepare for revelation if we are unable to join our brothers and sisters at
the foot of the mountain?

A few weeks ago we celebrated Lag Ba’Omer, which marks the death of an individual who knew
what it meant to study away from crowds. Rabbi Shimon bar Yochai, or Rashbi, was forced to flee
from hostile Roman forces, and he took up residence in a cave with his son. The two isolates spent
their days studying Torah and eating carobs, all day and all night. In many ways, Rashbi spent the
better part of twelve years engaged in a constant tikkun leil, waiting for the moment he would
reenter the world, saturated with newfound knowledge gained during his studies. That moment of
return finally arrived, and Elijah came to tell the hermits they could leave their cave. When they
entered the sunlit world, however, they came face to face with a world they did not recognize.
They had become accustomed to a life of eternal study, but in the world farmers were planting,
traders were engaged in commerce, the buzz of normal life was steady. Rashbi looked with disdain
at those who engaged in work and not in Torah, and his eyes burned with destructive indignation.
Immediately, God sent Rashbi back into the cave, with the soft yet direct words, “you are not
ready.”

For Rashbi, the act of studious preparation wasn’t enough. Despite countless nights of Torah study,
Rashbi was not ready to be in the world, to reenter society in a productive and generous way.
Rather than use the mystical truths he discovered in the cave to better the world, he only saw faults.
His studying was not a tikkun. His Torah remained in the cave.

On this Shavuot, we will be like Rashbi, studying Torah, perhaps by candlelight, in our own caves.
For many of us, we’ve been in these caves for quite a long time already, and it is unclear when we
will truly be able to enter the world. Yet, we must recognize that in order for our tikkun leil to truly
serve its purpose, in order for our studiousness to make an impact, we must be outward facing.
Our Torah cannot remain in the cave, nor should it be used to harm others. Rather, let us dive deep

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