Gift-giving is an art. It doesn’t end with selecting the item. There’s the wrapping, the presentation, the card. And, of course, the bestowal itself: striking just the right chord of generosity and benevolence, without shaming the recipient.

Gift-giving may be an art, but at least it has closure. Then it’s the receiver’s turn. He’s the one who completes the transfer of ownership by accepting, acknowledging, and expressing appreciation gracefully. But that’s not all. A proper recipient uses his gift well, in the spirit in which it was intended. This is his most demanding role, for it can continue for a long time. Sometimes, depending on the magnitude of the item, in perpetuity.

Occasionally, the receiver spurns the gift. Is it the giver, or the item itself, that he’s rejecting? The most famous, and certainly the most crucial, rebuff took place over three millennia ago when the Creator offered His Torah to the nations of the world. Every schoolchild knows the story of their pointed queries about the Torah, their subsequent refusals, and, in contrast, Klal Yisrael’s eager acceptance without much foreknowledge of what lay inside the gift wrap.

Gift or Purchase?

Rav Zev Leff pins down the glaring contrast between the attitudes of the descendants of Yishmael and Eisav, and the children of Avraham, Yitzchak, and Yaakov. The former asked, “What is written in Your Torah?” It was not only their ultimate refusal, but also their need to know the contents of the gift in advance, that made all the difference. Why?

Typically, when a gift is delivered, it’s unnecessary and inappropriate to ask about its contents; the recipient has almost nothing to lose by accepting it sight unseen. Klal Yisrael didn’t request any information because they perceived Torah as the ultimate gift, from the greatest of all Givers.

But what if the offer is an opportunity to purchase the item? Then, the receiver is no longer a beneficiary. He’s a customer, a buyer who has every right to decide where to invest his funds. Thus the nations’ request for information revealed much more than curiosity on their part. It demonstrated that they viewed Torah as a purchase, something that would cost them. More than money, it would demand a complete overhaul of their lifestyle. The price, they concluded, was not worth the merchandise.

Wresting with Angels

Here’s a quick quiz: On what date did we receive this gift of Torah? If you’re familiar with the Jewish calendar, and are feeling confident about your answer, don’t be. Although Shavuos is celebrated annually on the sixth of Sivan, the Gemara tells us that kabbalas haTorah occurred a day later than planned, on the seventh of the month!

In order to explain this discrepancy, let us visit the heavenly realm and listen in on a historic conversation that took place when Moshe first ascended to receive the Torah. The Midrash relates that the malachim originally balked at the notion of this gift:

Ribbono shel Olam, why is a human being among us?

He is here to receive the Torah.

You’re giving away the treasure which You’ve kept hidden for 974 generations, to a mortal?

[Hashem said to Moshe]: Hold on to My heavenly throne and answer them.

Moshe said, Ribbono shel Olam, what is written in Your Torah?

“Anochi Hashem Elokecha, I am the G-d Who took you out of Egypt.”

[To the malachim]: Are you the ones who were exiled to Egypt? Were you enslaved to Pharaoh?

What else does the Torah command?

“Remember the Shabbos day to keep it holy.”

Do you perform melachah [work] from which you need to abstain on Shabbos?

What is another command?

“Honor your father and mother.”

Do you have parents?

What else?

“Do not murder, do not commit adultery, and do not steal.”

Is there jealousy among you? Do you have a yetzer hara?

And the malachim readily acknowledged their error and gave Moshe the Torah.

What a puzzling dialogue! What was the basis of the malachim’s claim? And what did Moshe Rabbeinu tell them that they didn’t already know? They surely recognized that the Torah’s mitzvos were not addressed to them.