Lag BaOmer: From Despair to Hope and Celebration

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Lag BaOmer, the 33rd Day of the Omer, is a minor holiday. Lag Baomer is not mentioned as a holiday in the Mishna or the Talmud but since the 15th Century has been marked a day of celebration, especially among Chassidic communities. On this day, two important events happened, or rather stopped happening: The Shulchan Aruch notes it as the day on which the plague that killed 24,000 of Rabbi Akiva’s students ceased, and the Meira pinpointed it as the day on which Rabbi Shimon Bar Yochai, a Talmudic sage to whom the work of the Zohar is attributed, passed away. On this day, we cease the mourning practices that have accompanied us in our counting of the Omer and mark it by lighting bonfires and children often play with bows and arrows.

The celebration of Lag BaOmer is rather a strange one – why mark the death of a sage with celebration rather than mourning? Why celebrate the secession of a terrible plague? It would make more sense in both cases to have a commemoration, rather than celebration.

To answer this question, we will examine the characters of Rabbi Akiva and Rabbi Shimon and discover that it was in the midst of mourning and suffering that new light and unity of Am Yisrael was found, and that is what we mark on the 33rd day of the Omer.

Rabbi Akiva and His Students

Rabbi Akiva was a Talmudic sage of the 1st Century. He is famous for many things, but the two that we will address here is his determination and positivity. Rabbi Akiva wasn’t always a Torah scholar and teacher to tens of thousands of students. He started off as a poor shepherd. It was only at the age of 40 years old, and with the encouragement of his righteous wife, Rachel, that he began to learn. Rabbi Akiva dedicated himself to learning and over the course of many years, became the teacher of thousands of students. He attributed all of his Torah success to his wife.

But Rabbi Akiva lived through much trauma and sadness. The plague that we mark on the first 33 days of the Omer killed 24,000 of his students, the Talmud tells us for not having respect for one another¹ – all the Torah he taught was gone. Rabbi David Orlofsky emphasizes not just the personal loss, but the national loss that this was: “Can we imagine what a loss this was for Klal Yisrael? There was no Shulchan Aruch, no Gemera, not even the Mishna! The Torah was oral, and it was entrusted to a large extent to Rebbe Akiva and his talmidim. When the tragedy was finally over, there wasn’t one student of Rebbe Akiva’s left alive. His life’s work had collapsed around him – all his accomplishments went up in flames; Rebbe Akiva was left in ashes.”²

One would be within one’s rights to imagine that after a loss of this proportion, a person would be likely to live out the rest of his days in sadness and despair. Rabbi Akiva, however, rose from the ashes and began to teach again. He raised five more disciples, one of them being Rabbi Shimon Bar Yochai. The fact that Rabbi Akiva could find hope and rebirth should not surprise us when considering his character. He is after all, the famed Rabbi who saw first hand the destruction of the Second Temple, and there too, rather than sinking to despair, found faith and hope for a better future³. From Rabbi Akiva, we learn to hope and to rebuild.

Rabbi Simon Bar Yochai

As mentioned, Rabbi Shimon was the continuity of Rabbi Akiva when all seemed lost. Sentenced to death for daring to give his opinion on the Roman government’s influence on Eretz Yisrael, Rabbi Shimon and his son hid in a cave for 12 years. There, Hashem provided a miraculous stream of water for them to drink, and a carob tree from which they ate. They hid there for 12 years, immersed day and night in Torah study. After 12 years, the emperor died and with him the decree against Rabbi Shimon⁴.

One can only imagine what it must be like for any ‘normal’ human to emerge from 12 years of hiding. But Rabbi Shimon and his son had not simply hid- they had existed all that time solely on Torah study, and had reached heights indescribable in connection to Hashem. How would they face the ‘real world’, when indeed the real world from them was what they had experienced in the cave – contest immersion in Torah? The Talmud relates the following: “They emerged from the cave, and saw people who were plowing and sowing. Rabbi Shimon bar Yoḥai said: These people abandon eternal life of Torah study and engage in temporal life for their own sustenance.” So angered and confused by this were they, that “every place that Rabbi Shimon and his son Rabbi Elazar directed their eyes was immediately burned.”

Hashem was displeased with this development: “A Divine Voice emerged and said to them: Did you emerge from the cave in order to destroy My world? Return to your cave.”

They returned for another year until the Bat Kol told them to come out. This time, while Rabbi Elazar’s eyes continued to destroy, Rabbi Shimon’s healed, until “Rabbi Shimon said to Rabbi Elazar: My son, you and I suffice for the entire world, as the two of us are engaged in the proper study of Torah.”

Rabbi Shimon and his son had reached such great heights in their connection to Hashem, that they could see past the physical world. And yet, after a further process, Rabbi Shimon understands that not everyone can reach those heights and he tells his son, “We are enough for the world.” Through us, Rabbi Shimon explains, the presence of Hashem is in the world.

But Rabbi Shimon has one more lesson to learn. The Talmud continues the story⁵:

“As the sun was setting on Shabbat eve, they saw an elderly man who was holding two bundles of myrtle branches and running at twilight. They said to him: Why do you have these? He said to them: In honor of Shabbat. They said to him: And let one suffice. He answered them: One is corresponding to: “Remember the Shabbat day, to keep it holy” (Exodus 20:8), and one is corresponding to: “Observe the Shabbat day, to keep it holy” (Deuteronomy 5:12). Rabbi Shimon said to his son: See how beloved the mitzvot are to Israel. Their minds were put at ease.”⁶

Rabbi Shimon goes through a process of seeing the world in black and white, to tolerating difference, to ultimately reaching the next level- not just tolerance, but appreciation for nuance and difference in avodat Hashem.

Once he has found this common ground with his fellow man, his mind is put at ease. Rabbi Shimon learns what the students of Rabbi Akiva failed to learn- there is more than one right way. There are different ways to connect to Hashem and each holds and deserves its place in this world. Thinking this way can bring unity and this is one of the legacies which Rabbi Shimon, the disciple of Rabbi Akiva left in the world.

Rabbi Shimon Bar Yochai, we are told, declared the day of his death as the completion of his life’s work, and therefore as a holiday, or Hillula. Rabbi Manis Friedman explains “When Godliness is completed in an individual’s life, that makes the world Godlier, it makes Godliness more accessible to the average person, and therefore the yahrzeit should be celebrated.”⁷

Destruction and Rebirth

The Pri Chadash and the Chida⁸ suggest that Lag Baomer is not only the day that the plague ended, but also the day that Rabbi Akiva began teaching Rabbi Shimon Bar Yochai! From the destruction, Rabbi Akiva finds a way to rebuild, renew and continue. When Rabbi Shimon emerges from the cave, he himself cannot help but destroy. But after, he too learns to heal, and then to find beauty.

Lag Baomer is traditionally celebrated by building bonfires. This is a symbol of the Zohar (which means shining in Hebrew). Fire is a powerful element: if left to run wild, it can wreak havoc and destroy. But if used safely, it can spread warmth and light, providing a way to sustain humanity.

Lessons for Today

The Jewish people are no strangers to despair. Indeed, as I write these words, we are still engaged in a now 19-month war, still have hostages languishing in the tunnels of Gaza, still have internal strife and disunity reminiscent of the days of the Second Beit Hamikdash. Sometimes, it feels too much to bear. But the celebration of Lag BaOmer, of the fire that spreads light, of rising from the ashes, of the tikkun of respect and unity, rings loud and clear. Rabbi Orlovsky writes, “By Lag B’Omer, the Omer is two thirds over. Some think that they may not have used the time well to prepare for Matan Torah, that it may be too late. Maybe, they think, they will just have to try again next year. So we remind them that it’s never too late. Even from the ashes, life can grow again. As long as there is life, there is hope.”⁹