Receiving the Torah Anew: Shavuos, Recovery, and the Journey Back to Spiritual Connection

Shavuos marks a transformative experience that bound the Jewish people to God and to one another. This wasn’t only a national revelation; it was also deeply personal. We are told that each individual received the Torah according to their own soul’s capacity, their unique spiritual wiring. In that moment, both collective and individual transformation were possible.  Before Sinai, the Jewish people were emerging from slavery - scarred, uncertain, and spiritually disconnected.

Similarly, addiction, trauma, and mental health struggles leave deep fractures in one’s identity, sense of safety, and spiritual trust. 

Many in recovery find that, like the Jews at Sinai, they had to first enter a process of self-discovery before they can begin to trust again - trust themselves, others, or God, and that there is a deeper revelation and acceptance waiting for them on the other side.

Na’aseh v’nishma: The Courage to Say Yes 

Bnei Yisroel’s famous response at Sinai - “Na’aseh v’nishma" was a bold act of trust. They said yes before they fully understood. In clinical recovery work, this mirrors what therapists and support groups call “acting as if”, or taking healthy, forward-moving actions even when emotional or cognitive clarity hasn’t fully formed.

Whether it’s committing to treatment,  going to a self-help group, or starting therapy, these early steps are often shaky and uncertain. But every brave “yes” to healing, however incomplete or shaky, is a step toward personal Sinai. 

In treatment modalities like Internal Family Systems (IFS), individuals learn to listen to the different “parts” inside themselves. Parts that want to heal and grow, and parts that hold pain, fear, or protective instincts. Saying “Na’aseh v’nishma” can be understood as the moment when our Self-led wisdom steps forward, trusting that healing is possible even when our parts remain afraid. This inner alignment is not a denial of pain; it’s the beginning of integration. 

Case Study: Yoni’s Kabbalas HaTorah 

Yoni grew up in a close-knit religious community where Torah learning was everything. Success was measured by how quickly one could master a page of Gemara or deliver a sharp insight. But for Yoni, those early years were a slow erosion of self-worth. He struggled with undiagnosed ADHD and a processing disorder that made traditional learning nearly impossible for him. 

By age 10, he had internalized that something was deeply wrong. Rebbeim, frustrated by his distractibility, labeled him lazy or oppositional. His report cards used words like “unmotivated” and “lacks effort.” At home, his parents - well-meaning but overwhelmed - tried to push him harder, fearing he’d fall through the cracks. Shul and school became spaces of chronic shame. 

By his teens, that shame metastasized into a spiritual crisis. Yoni began to believe that not only was he failing at Judaism - he was wrong for Judaism. Torah became a symbol not of truth, but of rejection. Davening felt hollow. Halacha felt like a system he could never succeed in. So he stopped trying. 

Importantly, Yoni’s withdrawal from religious life wasn’t rooted in rebellion, intellectual disagreement, or loss of faith. His core beliefs remained intact, quietly present beneath the surface. His barriers were emotional—not ideological. He never consciously chose to walk away from God. Instead, he emotionally distanced from a world that had made him feel chronically unwanted. The walls around his heart had gone up long before he had the words to explain why. 

At 15, Yoni started smoking marijuana. At first, it was occasional- a weekend thing to escape the static of his thoughts. But gradually, it became daily. Marijuana quieted the inner critic, softened the shame, and gave him permission to exist without the weight of constant inadequacy. What he didn’t realize was that he was self-medicating not just his social anxiety and ADHD, but also the trauma of spiritual exclusion. 

By 20, Yoni had dropped out of yeshiva and was caught in a cycle of depressive episodes, dependency, and isolation. His family, heartbroken and unsure how to help, convinced him to enter a dual-diagnosis rehab program that specialized in treating both substance use and underlying mental health issues. 

There, in the safety of a trauma-informed therapeutic setting, Yoni began to unravel his story. His therapist helped him name the root of his pain: not defiance, not apathy, but exile. He had felt exiled from his spiritual connection. With the support of IFS-based therapy and ADHD coaching to develop executive functioning skills, Yoni learned to recognize the parts of him that had carried shame, anger, and fear for years. He realized he deeply yearned for connection to Hashem and believed in Torah life but had been blocked by parts too pained to allow him that recognition. In one of the most healing moments of his journey, he realized:

“I don’t have to become someone else to belong to Torah. The Torah belongs to me, too.” That moment cracked something open. Yoni realized he had never rejected God, he had just never felt like God’s world had a place for him. His path back wasn’t through debating theology or defending halacha but through reclaiming a sense of emotional safety in religious space. 

Bit by bit, he reconnected - with himself, his story, and slowly, with Hashem. He found particular healing in chassidus and tehillim, and in learning Torah that spoke of the soul’s journey, not just the intellect’s. He created rituals that worked for him: walking meditations paired with spontaneous prayer, learning a single pasuk slowly with emotional reflection, and journaling about his beliefs and doubts without censorship. 

That year, when Shavuos came, Yoni didn’t force himself into settings that would re-trigger old shame. Instead, he took a walk before dawn, davened softly under the sky, and whispered Shema with tears. He felt the Torah being given not with thunder, but with quiet acceptance. He called it his Kabbalas HaTorah - the one his soul had been waiting for all along. 

Attachment and Receiving Torah 

Attachment theory originally describes the bonds between children and caregivers, but it can also be extended to our relationship with God, tradition, and community. Just as a secure attachment with a loving caregiver provides safety, trust, and confidence to explore the world, a secure spiritual attachment fosters openness, vulnerability, and genuine connection to faith. 

Many people who struggle with religious connection, whether due to trauma, addiction, or feeling alienated, aren’t disconnected because they intellectually reject belief or Torah. Rather, their hearts have built emotional walls as self-protection. These walls arise from shame, judgment, exclusion, or hurt within religious environments, leading to a form of spiritual exile. 

When attachment is disrupted by trauma, negative experiences, or internalized shame, individuals may unconsciously “disconnect” from Torah life- not because they don’t believe, but because their emotional system is guarding against further pain. This disconnection is a survival strategy: it keeps the person safe from re-experiencing rejection or failure but also blocks the full experience of spiritual intimacy. 

Healing in recovery often involves gently dismantling these emotional defenses. Through trauma-informed therapy and compassionate community, a person can begin to experience spiritual relationships that feel safe and trustworthy. They learn they can approach Torah and God without fear of judgment or exclusion, and that their worthiness is not contingent on perfect performance. 

Rebuilding this secure attachment means cultivating: 

Trust: Trust that God is compassionate and accepting, that Torah is accessible, and that community can be a source of support rather than pain.

Safety:  Creating spaces- whether in therapy, or in reconnecting with community experiences that honor vulnerability without condemnation.

Connection: Experiencing that God and tradition are present even amid struggles and imperfections.

Belonging: Feeling truly accepted as a whole person, not only for one’s successes but also for one’s wounds and growth. 

When this attachment is restored, accepting the Torah becomes a heartfelt embrace rather than an obligation or intellectual assent. The person can step forward to receive Torah as a source of life, healing, and joy- opening the door to transformation and spiritual recovery. 

Personal and Communal Revelation 

While Sinai was a collective event, the Midrash teaches that each person heard the voice of God differently. This duality—shared experience and personal revelation—is a central truth of both Shavuos and recovery. In the therapeutic world, group work and individual therapy both play vital roles. Group process offers witnessing, resonance, and support. Individual work allows for depth, personalized insight, and integration.

Spiritual recovery is no different. Community provides structure and inspiration, while personal work reveals where old wounds still shape beliefs about God, worthiness, and belonging.

There is much the broader Jewish world can learn from people like Yoni and others healing from religious trauma. Their resilience, honesty, and spiritual courage remind us that Torah is not a rigid inheritance; it is a living covenant that must be continually re-accepted, redefined, and re-personalized. 

Integration: Living the Torah We Receive 

After Sinai, Bnei Yisroel was tasked with living the Torah - bringing its ideals into relationships, work, rest, and justice. Similarly, recovery is not just about moments of insight; it’s about daily practices of integrity, accountability, and compassion. This aligns with treatment goals of emotional regulation, repairing relationships, boundary work, and spiritual discipline. 

Therapists often invite clients to explore: What values do you want to live by now? Which practices or beliefs keep you anchored? These are spiritual questions too - and they are at the heart of Torah living. 

Final Reflection: Recovery Is for All of Us 

While Yoni’s story centers on addiction and trauma, his journey reveals something universal. Whether or not we’ve faced addiction, many of us carry unspoken barriers to fully embracing a life of Torah and connection with Hashem. Sometimes it’s disillusionment with religious institutions. Sometimes it’s intellectual doubt. Often, it’s something quieter: emotional burnout, a sense of inadequacy, fear of judgment, or the pressure to perform. 

The path of recovery - examining our inner blocks, rebuilding emotional safety, and reconnecting from within - is not just for those in treatment. It’s a path for anyone seeking an authentic spiritual life. 

This Shavuos, consider gently asking: What stands between me and fully receiving the Torah? Where in my religious life have I feel disconnected? What parts of me long for connection but feel blocked? 

We don’t need to be perfect to receive the Torah. We just need to be present. 

May we all stand again at our own Sinai, alone and together, broken and whole, and say yes with open hearts.

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Devora Shabtai LCSW serves as the Director of Specialty Programming at Beachway Therapy Center in West Palm Beach. Devora previously served as the Vice President of Clinical Development at Onward Living and the founding Jewish track Program Manager of Transformations Treatment center. Devora specializes in the treatment of addiction and spiritual/religious trauma, as well as clinical program design that is tailored to meet the clinical and cultural needs of members of the Orthodox Jewish community within both inpatient and outpatient levels of care. Alongside clinical work, Devora has a background in evidence-based research and has co-authored several peer reviewed articles and book chapters on empirical relationships between Judaism and psychological well-being. Devora's current doctoral research is examining spiritual/religious identity development and its relationship to mental health.