The Lag B’omer Mystery

The Omer period should have been a time of joyful anticipation, marking as it does, the Exodus from Egypt until the revelation at Sinai.  Instead, it is a time of semi-mourning, except for Lag B’omer, when our sorrow is temporarily halted. What occurred then? The Talmud relates that during this period, Rabbi Akiva’s 24,000 students died from a mysterious plague sent from Heaven because, “They did not show respect to one another.” Nonetheless, on Lag B’omer the plague ended.

This only creates new questions. Why does this event merit thirty-two days of sadness when greater tragedies, such as the destruction of both Temples, are marked by a single day of grief. In sheer numbers, the Inquisition, Crusades, Chemelnitsky pogroms, and the Holocaust far overshadow the death of Rabbi Akiva’s students. Yet, these tragic events are not commemorated by even one special day of remembrance. Why is the death of some scholars given so much more weight?

There are other inconsistencies. If the students died as a result of their sins, why should we mourn them? Didn’t they deserve their fate? Also, why should a temporary halt of the epidemic be set aside as a day of celebration? Would not a memorial day for those who died be more appropriate? And how does all of this relate to Rabbi Shimon Bar Yochai, author of the mystical Zohar and student of Rabbi Akiva, about whom we sing on Lag B’omer?
The answers lie shrouded in the history of a turbulent age.  The Romans destroyed the Second Temple and the entire country. Hundreds of thousands died in the fierce fighting and many more were forced into slavery and exile. The Romans considered the Jewish nation defeated and erected a monument in Rome which stands to this day that says Judea Capita - Judea is kaput, finished, done for.

But even in defeat the Sages struggled to rebuild Jewish life. They were so successful that around 135 C.E. a Jewish military leader, Bar Kochba, succeeded in organizing a fighting force to rid the land of the hated Romans. The masses rallied to his cause, including the great scholar, Rabbi Akiva.  From a historical point of view, Rome’s paganism and oppressiveness had many searching for an alternative. Judaism attracted significant numbers, including several members of the Roman Senate. Thus large numbers of Jews and their sympathizers throughout the Empire could have coordinated a popular revolt.  Rabbi Akiva furthermore believed that Jews could have returned to their land, and ushered in the Messianic Era of justice, spiritual revival, and universal peace. As Maimonides records, “Rabbi Akiva was the wisest of the scholars of the Mishna and was the armor bearer of Bar Kochba. Both he and the sages of his generation believed that Bar Kochba was the Messiah…”

All seemed to be in readiness. With Rome rotten and corrupt and many other nations straining at the yoke, Bar Kochba trained an army capable of igniting the powder keg of rebellion and Rabbi Akiva lit it with the dramatic proclamation that the long awaited Messiah had arrived. More importantly, Rabbi Akiva added a spiritual dimension. He merged the soldiers of the sword with the soldiers of the book, his 24,000 students.
These outstanding scholars would become the real army of the Jewish people, a spiritual and moral force that would unite Torah and Jews around a single leader, separating this event from the great revolt of the previous century when bitterly divided factions warred with each other even as the Romans stormed the gates of Jerusalem Bar Kochba achieved many initial victories. Rome’s best troops were called in from England, Gaul, Switzerland, Austria, Hungary and Bulgaria. Still for four years Jewish independence was restored and Bar Kochba actually began to rebuild the Temple.
And then the tide turned.  Bar Kochba lost the support of the Sages when he accused and murdered Rabbi Elazar for supposedly revealing secret entrances of the fortress city of Betar to the enemy. What caused the turn-around? It was the spiritual failure of Rabbi Akiva’s students who didn’t show proper respect to each other. Without warning, a great plague struck and the dream collapsed.  For with greatness comes heightened responsibility. When the 24,000 students forgot to lead and subsequently died, Israel’s doom was sure to follow. Worse, the Messianic dream died, for that era and for thousands of years to come.
The Bar Kochba uprising thus marked the great divide between the hope for national independence and international dispersal. Powerful changes occurred. The stiff necked, independent people that did not hesitate to challenge the mightiest superpower of antiquity lost its instinct for freedom, and 2,000 years would elapse before there would be another Jewish fighting force.
It is for this reason that we mourn: not for some students, but for the fall of Jewish Messianic ambitions. Every anti-Semitic outbreak for which Jews suffered since that day, every pogrom, massacre, crusade, Holocaust, and banishment that took the toll of so many millions during the two thousand year long and bitter exile, must be traced to Bar Kochba, and ultimately to Rabbi Akiva’s students. This was truly a tragedy of inestimable proportions, worth 32 days of introspection.

Yet even when all appeared lost, a new beacon of hope emerged. In the midst of defeat, indeed on Lag B’omer itself, Rabbi Shimon Bar Yochai revealed the mystical Zohar in whose teachings lie the secret of the coming of the Messiah. So while on this very day the plague was stopped and the dream delayed, it was not destroyed. It was nurtured through time by the Zohar. And this is why we celebrate.

Currently, the history of our ancient past is coming alive in the land of our fathers. This last century, empires fell, in part because of endemic corruption. Following a frightful Holocaust which many believed would spell the end of our people, we experienced a restoration of Jewish independence and spirituality. Once more a Jewish army scored miraculous victories against overwhelming odds and an unexpected teshuva movement that roused our youth reminded us of those glorious days. We have now been entrusted with an opportunity to recreate a Jewish civilization of Torah greatness in our own land. Will we succeed or will our efforts be aborted? Will we learn the lesson of Rabbi Akiva’s students? Will we understand that the coming of the Messiah depends on us?