We are entering Shabbat this week through Lag BaOmer. It is a normally happy day which turned to tragedy because of what happened at Meron last night. I intended to share this week only the underlying sense of Yom Tov that marks this day. But now that this disaster has occurred, I want to relate to that too.
The celebration of Lag BaOmer is shrouded in the same kind of mystery that applies to many things which have their roots in Kabbala. Chasidim have made the study of Kabbala into a more popular area of interest over the last 250 years. Although non-Chasidim were not initially as eager to pursue it, prominent Rabbinic leaders of the 19th century Yeshiva world also promoted it as an area of study. What was once widespread resistance has now given way to more and more familiarity.
But that does not mean that an understanding of the depth of this day has become easy. R, Moshe Shapiro, z’l, used to say quite openly that the real sense of the Yom Tov of this day was so elusive that one should be suspicious of anyone who claims that he or she knows it.
The Gemora says that the thousands of students of R’ Akiva passed away during the time between Pesach and Shavuot. It seems that they died during only a portion of that time period but not on every day. There are several traditions about exactly how to parse out the days but everyone agrees that the 33rd day was among the days on which no one passed away. One tradition, as inferred from the language of the Tur and the Shulchan Aruch (and followed by most Ashkenazic Jews), holds that this was the very day on which the entire plague ended.
Fair enough, but that does not seem like a call for celebration. A pall from the many days of plague still hangs over even the day on which it ends. Sadness is still the major chord of this time.
This is why it is critical to understand that there is no celebration on this day that stems from the end of the plague. The end of a long calamitous period does not bring celebration. We all know this about what we are going through now. The end of Covid will not in itself bring celebration. Too much has been lost. Of course, people will be eager -- and happy -- to move on, but looking back at its end will always be about what, and whom, we lost.
So then what are we celebrating? This can be understood with a simple glance at this week’s Parasha. We read this Parasha on Pesach because it lists all of the Chagim. It begins by announcing that “these are the holidays of Hashem,” and then it begins the rundown with the 14th day Nissan, which it calls “Pesach.” It is called that because that is the day on which the Pesach offering is slaughtered. It is eaten the following night, in the midst of the Seder, but the day on which it is slaughtered is the first of the days that we call “Moadim,” or holidays. It is for this reason that the Vilna Gaon says that the customs of mourning are lifted on the 14th of Nissan. He says that any day in the listing of “Moadim” is considered a holiday even if one is allowed to do work -- to drive, for example, or to write -- on that day. [Our actual practice is to lift the restrictions of Shiva after midday on the 14th, when the offering was actually slaughtered and processed.]
In the listing of the holidays in the Parasha, there is a long section devoted to the Omer. It describes the bringing of the Omer, and the counting of seven weeks that takes place from the day it is brought. The Ramban, in his commentary on the Torah, says that the Mishna always refers to Shavuot as “Atzeret” because it is like Shmini Atzeret at the end of Sukkot. In other words, there are really two parallel Chagim in the Jewish year -- Pesach which ends on Shavuot (Atzeret) and Sukkot which culminates in Shmini Atzeret.
The relevant implication of this Ramban for us is that this means that all of the days between Pesach and Shavuot are like intermediate days of a Chag. This jibes well with what the Vilna Gaon says -- that all of the days included in this section of the Torah are called “Moadim.” All of the Omer days, therefore, are supposed to be joyous. They are not as joyous as Pesach or Shavuot, but they are supposed to be Moadim of some kind.
The plague that wiped out R’ Akiva’s students significantly tamps down the joy of these days. What should be days of joy turned instead to pain. But the fact that they did not die, or even ceased to die, on Lag BaOmer means that this day is not cancelled out by the tragedy. Unlike the other days during this period, it thus reverts to its original form as a day of joy.
The cancelling effect of the death of R’ Akiva’s students is not a coincidence of timing. It is thematically tied to this time. The period of time between Pesach and Shavuot is supposed to be marked by celebration when people move through it with a proper reverence for the giving of the Torah. That gives these days a sense of joy as we march toward the purpose of the Exodus. The students died because of a failure in treating each other with dignity. The loss of the students ruined these days because they failed in exactly the area that should characterize this time. By not showing each other honor, they slighted the Torah they were learning together.
I am leaving aside for now the reason why Lag BaOmer is an exception to this. As I mentioned, that is Kabbala. But I do want to mention one thing that relates to the horrific event in Meron last night. There are for sure many who venture to Meron on Lag BaOmer because they understand R’ Shimon bar Yochai’s connection to this day. But those people could never account for the tens of thousands who go. The masses go because of the electrifying sense of being together for the sake of the Torah which unites them. When they gather so joyously together for Torah, they are trying to embody the oneness that can fix what the students of R’ Akiva shattered. May those who were lost last night be remembered for their contribution toward that healing, and may we grow in treating each other with the dignity the Torah demands of us.
Shabbat Shalom.
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Last week, I referenced the crowd at Shul for the Bar Mitzva a few weeks back. Some might have thought that Covid rules were somehow compromised that week. The number of people was comparable to last Yom Kippur but distancing was still possible. Unlike Yom Kippur, the number was nowhere near the County’s limit. No CDC guidelines were violated.
