For at least a week before, and a few days after, there are enormous traffic jams as hundreds of thousands come to be near the grave of Rabbi Shimon Bar Yochai. In standard years, cars cannot get anywhere near Meron. Down the road from where I live, in Karmiel, a huge parking lot is created on an empty field, and busses run from there to Meron every five minutes, 24 hours a day, for about three days. Additional busses run from a makeshift large bus terminal all over the country.
Personally, I never wanted to be anywhere near Meron on that day. I generally hate huge crowds and pushing and shoving and standing for hours, craning my neck to maybe see something in the distance with deafening music blaring. My family and friends know that at most weddings, I cannot tolerate more than about fifteen minutes of dancing (though I was just fine at my children's weddings, Baruch Hashem). The cave that Rabbi Shimon and his son stayed in for 12 years in Peki'in, which besides being only three miles from my home is much quieter and peaceful, is far more to my liking. The fact that I am a kohen and cannot go into the building in Meron really does not enter into it – I would never be able to get that close anyway.
Nevertheless, last year Lonni prevailed over my curmudgeon nature, and at 4 AM, we headed out to Meron for a Vasikin davening when the crowds are far smaller. It was still pretty crazy; I am confident that it was a once-in-a-lifetime experience (Lonni's contrary view notwithstanding).
This year, however, Hashem had other plans – for all of us. I sit here tonight, with the eerie quiet, and watch our little barbeque bonfire (which I hope will not get me arrested for violating the "no bonfires" decree.) It is a very different Lag B'Omer, to say the least.
But as it turns out, it is different for me in another way as well. In the University of Haifa tour guide course that I have been attending this past year, I have discovered many interesting and exciting things about our history, and many shocking ones as well. Most of the startling ones have to do with the way that non-Orthodox Jews view Judaism and Jewish history. This week, it was my turn to discover how secular Jews view Lag B'Omer.
I have now verified, after asking quite a few of my peers and co-workers, that most secular Jews know and care little or nothing about the huge party that the religious people have in Meron. They do not know much about the great disciple of Rabbi Akiva – Rav Shimon Bar Yochai – or why that has any connection to Lag B'Omer. They don't know anything about the 24,000 students of Rabbi Akiva dying during the period of the Omer.
However, they do know one thing. Lag B'Omer, they will tell you, commemorates a great Jewish hero, a protege of Rabbi Akiva – Shimon Bar Kochba!
I had never heard of this in my entire life, but this is what is taught in the secular school system. Apparently, early Zionists redefined Lag BaOmer from a rabbinic-oriented celebration to a commemoration of the Bar Kokhba revolt against the Roman Empire (132–136 CE). As Benjamin Lau wrote:
This is how Lag Ba'omer became a part of the Israeli-Zionist psyche during the first years of Zionism and Israel. A clear distinction became evident between Jews and Israelis in the way the day was celebrated: The religious Jews lit torches in Rashbi's [Shimon bar Yochai's] honor and sang songs about him, while young Israelis, sitting around an alternative bonfire, sang about a hero "whom the entire nation loved" and focused on the image of a powerful hero who galloped on a lion in his charges against the Romans.*
As part of the search for new national symbols of courageous, mighty warriors, unlike the "Golus Jew" of the past, the Zionist leadership held up Bar Kochba as a glorious symbol of Jewish pride. No matter that his revolt ended in a crushing, terrible defeat that cost at least hundreds of thousands of lives and was the final blow to any hope of Jewish sovereignty for thousands of years – he fought the great fight. He refused to accept the yoke of those who subjugated us. In fact, some historians say that the 24,000 students of Rabbi Akiva who died were actually soldiers for Bar Kochba, who all perished in the battle.
I had always wondered why, as a child growing up in Monsey, we played with bows and arrows on Lag B'Omer. We were told that it had something to do with the rainbow, but it did not make much sense to me. Secular Israelis will tell you that these commemorate the fighters of Bar Kochba, who used these as their main weapons.
Obviously, this version of Lag B'Omer is troubling for many reasons, which I will not go into in this limited essay. But the fact remains that – at least here in Israel – we have two different versions of the Lag B'Omer story, one based around Rabbi Akiva's student (Rav) Shimon Bar Yochai, and the other around Rabbi Akiva's protégé, Shimon Bar Kochba. And both of these powerful individuals symbolized an idealized – and opposite – attitude.
Rav Shimon Bar Yochai is famous for coming out of the cave and being critical of those who busy themselves with this-worldly, mundane activities, instead of dealing only with the holy and the sacred. Bar Kochba is notorious for saying to Hashem, "We will fight without Your help; just do not interfere ". One looked only for Heavenly salvation. The other looked exclusively to human might to prevail.
It behooves both groups to learn from the past, and to treat each other with respect
Of course, while we are far, far closer to Rabbi Shimon's views, the truth is that Rabbi Shimon eventually softened his views somewhat, after his additional year in the cave. He was no longer as critical of those who were not at his level of devoting one's life to Divine Service exclusively. He was able to recognize the beauty of simple people going about their business while serving Hashem in more mundane ways. Likewise we, of course, acknowledge we have to look to Hashem for success in any endeavor. But for the overwhelming majority of us, we must also put in our best human efforts and look to Hashem to bless our efforts to elevate our mundane lives.
I listened this week to a lecture by Netanel Ellinson, a secular Israeli, who had a beautiful insight. The Gemara tells us that the disciples of Rabbi Akiva died during this period because they did not treat each other with respect. He suggested that this might have implications for us today. We have two schools of thought which claim that they are followers of Rabbi Akiva's two most famous devotees, the two Shimon Bar ____. Today's groups deeply disagree with each other, and each claim that they alone are the legitimate heirs of our Jewish Heritage. It behooves both groups, however, to learn from the past, and to treat each other with respect.
Speaking as a member of the Rabbi Shimon Bar Yochai's school of thought, it behooves me to deeply respect the enormous work, effort, blood, sweat, and tears invested by the secular builders of this incredible State of Israel. It is the least I can do to stand in awe of the heroism and self-sacrifice of those who fought to establish and defend this haven for the Jewish people.
That does not mean that I have to agree with the secularists about many things, nor that I should not be exasperated -- and even angry -- about many of their excesses, as our tradition was with the excesses of Bar Kochba. But we can find a way to respect much of what they have done in their efforts to help the Jewish people and to protect them. And the more that we do so, the more we can hope that they will respect our perspective as well, and appreciate the centrality of Torah to the Jewish people and to recognize the fantastic contributions that the religious community has made to our national good, in so many ways.
May the virtual fire of this Lag B'Omer warm Jewish hearts on both sides of the Jewish divide, help us respect each other. Let us learn to love each other, Rabbi Akiva's fundamental principle. If we do so, we can look forward to laughing with Rabbi Akiva in the rebuilding of the Bais HaMikdash, במהרה בימינו
* Lau, Benjamin (May 3, 2007). "Portion of the Week / The fires of Lag Ba'omer". Haaretz.
Thanks Rav Oppenheimer for the original insight and thoughts contained in your well written essay. Particularly edifying, is your dichotomous presentation of the two Shimon's which reflect the dominant or leading perspectives so common in Israel today and the possibility of narrowing the gap. Recognizing the achievements of the Chilonim in establishing and preserving a political entity which serves as a sanctuary for a persecuted people is certainly a first step.
ReplyDeleteBest Wishes for a Lag B'omer Sameach and continued success.
Chaim.
Dear Rav Oppenheimer,
ReplyDeleteThis article is just beautiful. Especially now that I and my wife now too live in Israel, I realize all the moreso how pressing are the issues you raise.
I never thought about it as a tale of two Shimons. But it's perfect.
And yes, let us all make the effort towards Ahavat chinam and a display of kavod zeh lazeh.
Kol Tuv,
(Rabbi) Avi Herzog
Nice, never heard such a thing. Thanks for sharing. Nice conclusions as well.
ReplyDeleteLovely essay, Rav, and the concepts have been much in my mind lately as I was considering Lag B’Omer. The 24000 students died because they did not show each other respect. We’re in an age in which everything is centered around divisions and arguments rather than respectful discourse.
ReplyDeleteMany discussions around politics don’t just go to disagreement, but to ad hominem attacks and sweeping generalizations about the groups that people are presumed to belong to. Now we’re seeing that about social isolation around Covid-19, with some advocating for masks and others openly going out without masks and spitting on produce in stores. The result is that nothing gets resolved, there’s just more hate. And without pointing to anyone in particular, I think many politicians these days nurture these splits as a way of rallying support for themselves.
We need to all find a way to not emulate those students, but to find mutual respect. A house divided against itself cannot stand, and that definitely applies to the Jewish people.