Midrash Rabba notes that Har Sinai is called 7 other names in Tanach. According to R. Abahu, the actual name of the mountain was Sinai and all the other appellations were nicknames based on what happened there when Hashem gave the Torah. Rabbi Yossi ben Chanina (Shabbat 89a-b) believes that the actual name of the location was Chorev and Har Sinai teaches us something about what happened during Matan Torah: Sheyarda Sinah L’Akum Alav.” Sinai is related to the word Sinah- hatred.
There is a difference of opinion as to who hates whom. Rashi explains that due to the Jews’ acceptance of the Torah, G-d’s special relationship with Bnei Yisrael was accompanied by G-d’s (relative) unfavorable predisposition towards the other nations. This is similar to how the Torah refers to Leah as “hated” in comparison to Yaakov’s love for Rachel. Ramban suggests that the Talmud here is saying that as a result of Matan Torah the other nations of the world began to hate the Jews. Jews became hated due to our chosen status and promotion throughout the world of objective morality.
Why are we talking about hatred on Shavuot? And if the name Sinai is associated with the word Sinah then why not routinely call the mountain by one of its other many names?
I think Har Sinai is remembered forever as a mountain of hatred to teach us that it’s OK to be different. Our religious values may garner discomfort in those that do not share them. Some may even take it to the level of hatred. But that’s Ok- that’s part of what the Torah expects to happen.
If our religion is practiced and described in such a way that it does not evoke any discomfort from non-Jews, if it is so politically correct that it no longer causes any heated questions or a little antagonism - than we should begin to worry about our Judaism. A pareve religion that evokes no strong opinions from outsiders is probably one that people would not be willing to sacrifice for: not only their lives (which is not something that comes up all that frequently today, thank G-d) but their autonomy, their modern sensibilities, their otherwise limitless choices. A religion that does not ask us to sacrifice and embrace our difference is not sustainable because it’s not easily transmitted to future generations. A universally beloved religion does not force us to stop and think, as Torah wants and expects of us.
Nobody likes to be hated. But being hated is no reason to back down from our convictions. If anything, resistance to our worldview and our way of life indicates that the stakes are high and the fight is worthwhile.
Har Sinai was the backdrop for some hatred. And that’s not such a bad thing. It forces us to strengthen our resolve and our sense of purpose. This hatred forces us to think long and hard about what Torah really means to us and what life is really supposed to be all about. May we continue to be defined and animated by the events of Har Sinai, and may Hashem give us the wisdom and fortitude to benefit from the Matan Torah that we re-experience again on this Shavuot.