It’s not just about remembering a historical event; it’s about something far more profound. Midrash Tehillim 8, a commentary on the Book of Psalms, delves into the very heart of that moment, revealing a surprising twist about who actually guaranteed the Torah's acceptance by the Jewish people.

The passage begins with a verse from Proverbs (6:1): "My son, if you have become surety for your neighbor, if you have struck your hand for a stranger." The Midrash interprets this in multiple ways. At one level, it speaks to the responsibility of scholars and leaders. When someone is appointed to a position of authority, they become a guarantor for the community. They must be careful to avoid calling "the impure pure, and the pure impure, that the forbidden is permitted, and the permitted is forbidden," lest they be "obligated to the words of [their] mouth." In other words, they must uphold justice and truth, guided by Torah.

But the Midrash doesn’t stop there. It takes a fascinating turn, applying this idea of surety to the giving of the Torah at Mount Sinai. Think about it: God wanted to give the Torah to Israel, but He asked for guarantors, someone to ensure that the people would uphold it. The people initially offered their ancestors as guarantors. But God, as the Midrash puts it, essentially said, "They are already obligated to me! I want someone who can stand on their own.”

It's like going to a bank for a loan and offering a guarantor who’s already in debt. The bank wants someone with a clean slate, someone who can truly vouch for you.

So, who could possibly be guarantors, completely free of prior obligations? The answer is astonishing: the infants! According to the Midrash, the Jewish people brought the infants before God. Can you picture it? These tiny, innocent beings, measured "their cubits and the circumferences of their heads," standing firm, "like a brick of an artisan, like the appearance of glass." They even saw God "from within the brick" and spoke with Him. This imagery is powerful!

As Psalm 8:3 says, "From the mouths of babes and sucklings hast Thou founded strength."

God then laid out the terms of the covenant, reciting the Aseret haDibrot, the Ten Commandments. To each commandment, the infants responded with a resounding "Yes!" The Midrash emphasizes that it was from their mouths that God gave the Torah to the people. This is no small detail: "there is no strength except in Torah, as it is said (Psalms 29:11) 'The Lord gives strength to His people.'"

But why infants? What’s so special about them? Perhaps it’s their innocence, their purity, their complete and utter trust. They represent the potential for unwavering faith and commitment, untainted by the complexities and compromises of the adult world. They are a blank slate upon which the Torah can be inscribed.

The Midrash goes on to warn about the consequences of neglecting the Torah. When Israel abandons its teachings, they are held accountable. As Hosea 4:6 says, "My people are destroyed for lack of knowledge."

The passage concludes with two differing interpretations by Rav and Levi of what happened to the infants after this momentous event. Rav suggests that they "became like the beams of a palace, shining like the brightness of the firmament," while Levi says that the "last miracle was greater than the first," as everything returned to normal, with the infants going back to their swaddling cloths and graves. Regardless of which interpretation is correct, both agree that the infants opened their mouths and sang a song, fulfilling the verse in Psalms 8:3.

So, what does this all mean for us today? It reminds us that the Torah is not just a set of laws or stories from the past. It’s a living, breathing covenant, constantly being renewed and reaffirmed. It reminds us that even the smallest and seemingly insignificant among us can play a vital role in upholding its teachings. It challenges us to approach the Torah with the same innocence, trust, and unwavering commitment as those infants at Sinai. And it reminds us that the future of the Torah, and indeed the world, rests in the hands of each new generation.