May 5, 2026|י"ח אייר ה' אלפים תשפ"ו Lag Baomer - From Extremism to Empathy By Rabbi Jonathan Muskat

The story goes that a Litvak is walking down the street when he passes a Chassidic shtiebel and sees everyone celebrating – dancing, singing, and drinking. Curious, he walks in and asks one of the Chassidim, “Why are you celebrating?”

The Chassid responds, “You don’t know? Today is the yahrzeit of our Rebbe!”

The Litvak replies, “Listen, I didn’t like the guy either, but that’s no reason to celebrate!”

And that, in many ways, is the question of Lag Ba’Omer. Do we celebrate the yahrzeit of a great Rabbi like Rabbi Shimon bar Yochai? After all, isn’t that the reason for Lag Ba’Omer and the pilgrimages to his tomb in Meron? Rav Chayim Vital records in the name of the Arizal that Lag Ba’Omer is the day Rabbi Shimon bar Yochai died. But do we throw a party on someone’s yahrzeit? We do not celebrate the yahrzeit of Avraham Avinu, Moshe Rabbeinu, David HaMelech, or other great figures with bonfires and festivities. Some people make a l’chayim in memory of a parent on a yahrzeit, but the Rema actually rules that one should fast. Additionally, the Shulchan Aruch writes that some have the custom to fast on the 10th of Nissan, when Miriam died, and others on the 7th of Adar, when Moshe died. So why are we celebrating the death of Rabbi Shimon bar Yochai?

Some Rabbinic scholars, including the Chida, Rav Chayim Yosef David Azulai, the eighteenth-century Rav of Jerusalem, suggest that there may have been a textual mistake that led to this interpretation. A manuscript of the Pri Etz Chaim by Rav Chayim Vital states: v’ha’ta’am shemet Rabbi Shimon bar Yochai b’yom Lag Ba’Omer – the reason for Lag Ba’Omer is that Rabbi Shimon bar Yochai died on that day, because he was among the students of Rabbi Akiva who died during Sefirat Ha’Omer.

However, other manuscripts contain the word samach instead of shemet – a samech instead of a taf. Samach means “rejoiced.” According to that reading, samach Rabbi Shimon bar Yochai b’yom Lag Ba’Omer – Rabbi Shimon bar Yochai rejoiced on Lag Ba’Omer; he did not necessarily die on that day.

Based on this, the Chida suggests that Lag Ba’Omer marks the point when Rabbi Akiva began teaching Torah to his new students, including Rabbi Shimon bar Yochai. Lag Ba’Omer thus celebrates the fact that Rabbi Akiva – the eternal optimist – did not give up. After losing 24,000 students, he rebuilt. He started again. He taught a new generation, among them Rabbi Shimon bar Yochai. Lag Ba’Omer, then, becomes a celebration of resilience, rebuilding, and renewal.

But this raises another question: Why was Rabbi Shimon bar Yochai specifically associated with Lag Ba’Omer? Rabbi Akiva had four other great students – Rabbi Yehuda bar Ilai, Rabbi Yossi, Rabbi Elazar ben Shamua, and Rabbi Meir. Why does Rabbi Shimon bar Yochai become the central figure of this day?

Who was Rabbi Shimon bar Yochai? What do we know about him? There are many stories about him in the Gemara, but let us consider a few that together paint a striking portrait of his personality.

Many of us are familiar with his famous debate with Rabbi Yishmael in Berachot 35b about whether a person should combine Torah study with earning a livelihood or devote himself entirely to Torah and trust that God will provide. Rabbi Shimon bar Yochai argues that if a person is busy planting and harvesting, “what will become of Torah?” His ideal is total immersion in Torah study, with faith that God will take care of material needs.

The Gemara concludes, however, that many people followed Rabbi Yishmael’s learner-earner model and succeeded, while many tried to follow Rabbi Shimon bar Yochai’s model and did not succeed. In this debate, Rabbi Shimon bar Yochai emerges as an otherworldly purist – someone who believes that Torah should consume a person entirely.

We encounter this same quality in a story in Pesachim 112a. Rabbi Akiva is in prison, and Rabbi Shimon bar Yochai asks him to teach him Torah. Rabbi Akiva refuses because of the danger posed by the Romans. Rabbi Shimon bar Yochai responds: “If you do not teach me, I will tell my father Yochai, and he will hand you over to the authorities.” Apparently, his father had connections with the Roman government.

This is a shocking statement. Rabbi Shimon bar Yochai seems willing to risk Rabbi Akiva’s life in order to learn Torah. Whether or not he intended the threat literally, the story portrays him as a religious extremist – someone whose passion for Torah eclipses almost everything else.

We see this again in the famous story in Shabbat 33b. Rabbi Yehuda, Rabbi Yose, and Rabbi Shimon bar Yochai are discussing the Roman Empire. Rabbi Yehuda praises the Romans for building marketplaces, bridges, and bathhouses. Rabbi Yose remains silent. Rabbi Shimon bar Yochai sharply criticizes them, insisting that everything they built was purely for selfish purposes.

Word reaches the Roman authorities, and Rabbi Shimon bar Yochai becomes a wanted man, forced to flee with his son and hide in a cave for twelve years.

When they finally emerge, they see people plowing fields and planting crops. Rabbi Shimon bar Yochai exclaims, “How can people abandon eternal life and occupy themselves with temporary life?” Everywhere they look, the land is scorched. A heavenly voice declares that they are unfit to live among people and sends them back into the cave for another year.

At this point, something changes.

When they emerge again, Rabbi Elazar continues reacting harshly to ordinary people engaged in worldly pursuits, but Rabbi Shimon bar Yochai now heals what his son destroys. Then the Gemara tells us that on Erev Shabbat, at twilight, they encounter an elderly man running home carrying two bundles of hadasim. They ask him why he needs them. He answers that they are to honor Shabbat. After speaking with him, Rabbi Shimon bar Yochai says to his son: “See how precious the mitzvot are to the Jewish people.”

This is no longer the Rabbi Shimon bar Yochai who emerged from the cave the first time. He no longer sees only shortcomings. He now sees goodness. He no longer condemns ordinary Jews for not living up to his impossible standards. He appreciates their sincerity, their striving, and their love of mitzvot.

With that in mind, let us consider one more Gemara. In Menachot 99b, Rabbi Shimon bar Yochai states that if a person recites one paragraph of Shema in the morning and one at night, he fulfills the verse, “Lo yamush sefer haTorah hazeh mipicha” – that Torah should never depart from your mouth.

This is remarkable. Earlier, Rabbi Shimon bar Yochai insisted that Torah must occupy every waking moment. Now he says that reciting Shema morning and evening fulfills the obligation. How do we reconcile these two positions?

Many answers have been suggested, but perhaps the simplest is offered by the Sdei Chemed: the earlier statement was made before Rabbi Shimon bar Yochai entered the cave, while the later statement was made after he emerged transformed. Before the cave, he was an uncompromising zealot. After the cave, he became a more balanced, compassionate, and inclusive leader – someone who no longer accused the Jewish people, but defended them.

Perhaps this explains why Rabbi Shimon bar Yochai became the symbol of Lag Ba’Omer. Rabbi Akiva indeed had five great students, but Rabbi Shimon bar Yochai uniquely represented both the problem and the correction. Rabbi Akiva’s original 24,000 students died because lo nahagu kavod zeh lazeh – they failed to show honor to one another. Perhaps they were so convinced of their own truth that they had no room for anyone else.

To some extent, Rabbi Shimon bar Yochai initially embodied that same tendency. He was a purist, an extremist, someone who lacked patience for those who did not share his total commitment to Torah. His transformation, however, became the transformation of Lag Ba’Omer itself—not merely the continuation of Rabbi Akiva’s Torah through new students, but the rebuilding of that Torah in a healthier and more compassionate way.

Lag Ba’Omer is not only about continuity. It is about correction.

As we move toward Shavuot, when Bnei Yisrael stood at Sinai k’ish echad b’lev echad – like one person with one heart – perhaps Lag Ba’Omer challenges us to speak not only in order to be heard, but also to hear. To listen. To give kavod to another person’s perspective, even when we disagree. To look for the good in people who may be very different from us.

Because that is the legacy of Rabbi Shimon bar Yochai. And that is the true celebration of Lag Ba’Omer.