The Essence of the Days of the Omer and Lag BaOmer - Rabbi Isser Springer shlita

00:02 Speaker 1 You’re listening to “Lema’an Yishme’u,” a podcast from Machon Halacha Chabad.

00:09 Speaker 2 Today, with Hashem’s help, we’ll learn about the mourning customs during the days of Sefiras HaOmer. Generally, we know that we mourn during Sefiras HaOmer because Rabbi Akiva’s students passed away. We rejoice on Lag BaOmer because Rabbi Akiva’s students stopped dying, and because Rabbi Shimon bar Yochai, known as Rashbi, passed away on that day. That, in broad terms, was what I had always known until I began studying the subject. With Hashem’s help, in this class we’ll try to look at the roots of these matters, along with some more details about the mourning during Sefiras HaOmer and the joy of Lag BaOmer. Hopefully, we’ll learn a few new things. So let’s start with the Gemara. The Gemara in Yevamos 62b discusses how someone who taught students in his youth should continue teaching students when he is older. Likewise, someone who has children should have more children. In that context, the Gemara tells a story about Rabbi Akiva. The Gemara says: Rabbi Akiva had twelve thousand pairs of students—twelve thousand study partners. That comes to twenty-four thousand in all. They were spread from Gevas to Antipras, and they all died during one period. They all died in the same period because they did not treat one another with respect, and the world was left desolate—desolate of Torah. Twenty-four thousand outstanding Torah scholars passed away at once, within a short time, and there was no one to carry on and transmit the tradition. Until Rabbi Akiva went to our teachers in the south and taught them. Who were those teachers in the south? They were Rabbi Akiva’s great students, whom we know: Rabbi Meir, Rabbi Yehuda bar Ilai, Rabbi Yosi, Rabbi Shimon—that is, bar Yochai—and Rabbi Elazar ben Shamua. They were the ones who upheld the Torah at that time. Those five students, those teachers in the south, upheld the Torah during that difficult time after the passing of twenty-four thousand students.

02:25 Speaker 2 The Gemara says: It was taught that they all died between Pesach and Shavuos. That was the period in which they died. So first, let’s talk a little about their “not treating one another with respect.” The Rebbe says that, as an explanation for their deaths, the fact that they did not treat one another with respect is not quite sufficient on its own. In particular, each person’s measure of wrongdoing had presumably filled up at a different time; each one’s failure to show respect occurred at a different time. It doesn’t seem likely that they all suddenly began behaving worse together. The Rebbe says that the number of Rabbi Akiva’s students had probably reached twenty-four thousand at that point, and then the evil eye affected them. The number twenty-four is associated with the attribute of judgment. Or—the Alter Rebbe writes that the days of Sefiras HaOmer are themselves days of judgment. But in any case, the Rebbe says that this alone is not enough. Later on, with Hashem’s help, we’ll look further at the Rebbe’s explanation of what it means that they did not treat one another with respect. Why was it specifically the students of Rabbi Akiva—the very person who, as we know, said, “‘Love your fellow as yourself’ is a great principle of the Torah”? It is even a verse in the Torah. Yet it was specifically his students who did not manage to put this principle of treating one another with respect into practice. But first, let’s see: There are differing opinions about exactly when Rabbi Akiva’s students died. The plain meaning of the Gemara is that they died throughout the entire period, from Pesach until Shavuos. That is the straightforward reading. But some opinions say there is a distinction among the days of Sefiras HaOmer. The first source is Sefer Hamanhig. Sefer Hamanhig was written by the Raavad HaYarchi. There is the Raavad, and there is the Raavad HaYarchi, from the city of Lunel in Provence. The name Lunel means “moon” in Hebrew, so sages from there were sometimes called HaYarchi. The Raavad HaYarchi cites Rabbi Zerachia Halevi, the Baal Hamaor. Rabbi Zerachia Halevi was one of the great Rishonim of the Rambam’s generation. He was a fierce

04:38 Speaker 2 adversary of the Raavad—the same Raavad whose glosses on the Rambam we encounter, where he attacks him sharply. That is the mild side of him. Where he is really sharp is in his disputes with the Razah, Rabbi Zerachia Halevi, the Baal Hamaor. For our purposes, Sefer Hamanhig cites Rabbi Zerachia Halevi, the Baal Hamaor, who found a version of the text in an old book in Spain. What did that old version say? That they died from Pesach until “pros Shavuos.” Not what our Gemara says, and not the standard version that was already accepted in the days of the Rishonim, but a special version found in a book from Spain. What did that book from Spain say? “Until pros Shavuos.” What does that mean? “Pros” means a portion—a half. Half of what? Sefer Hamanhig explains that the laws of a festival are studied for thirty days beforehand, so half of that is fifteen days. Thus, they died until “pros Shavuos,” until fifteen days before Shavuos. If so, they stopped dying on the 33rd of the Omer, not the 34th. According to the Sephardic custom, they take this to mean that the students died until the 34th of the Omer, and from the 34th one may begin shaving. Some say the 33rd; there are several details involved. There is a student of the Rashba, Rabbi Yehoshua ibn Shuaib—not well known, though he is known as a student of the Rashba—who writes in the name of the Midrash that they died until “pros Shavuos.” The Meiri, one of the sages of Provence, like the author of Sefer Hamanhig, writes that he received a tradition from the Geonim. What did the Geonim say, according to the Meiri’s tradition? That they stopped dying on Lag BaOmer. So in any case, we have several sources for the idea that they stopped dying around Lag BaOmer: either the tradition from the Geonim or the version of the Gemara that says “until pros Shavuos.” That is one opinion, and there is another opinion brought

06:43 Speaker 2 in Sefer Maharil. Another opinion brought in Sefer Maharil. The Maharil is Rabbi Yaakov Halevi Moelin. There is also a Maharil in Chabad: the Alter Rebbe’s brother was the Maharil, who authored the responsa She’eiris Yehuda. The Tzemach Tzedek’s son, the Maharil, was the Rebbe of Kopust. He was the successor with the largest number of chassidim after the Tzemach Tzedek, and he was already a Rebbe during the Tzemach Tzedek’s lifetime. But we’re talking now about an earlier Maharil, the Maharil known as the father of Ashkenazic customs. When someone is called the father of Ashkenazic customs, it is this Maharil. If you remember from the machzor, “Here the Maharil raised his voice,” “he did not eat nuts”—there are all sorts of customs describing what the Maharil did. Sefer Maharil gives a very interesting explanation of how we divide up the days of Sefiras HaOmer. The Maharil says it works like this: The early Ashkenazic authorities had a tradition that Rabbi Akiva’s students died only on days when Tachanun is said. On any day when Tachanun is not said, they did not die. How many days during Sefiras HaOmer are there without Tachanun? The Maharil says: We have Shabbos—seven Shabbosos. We have the days of Chol Hamoed Pesach and the last Yom Tov of Pesach. We have Rosh Chodesh: Rosh Chodesh Iyar is two days, and Rosh Chodesh Sivan is one day. Altogether, that comes to roughly sixteen days. There are details here, but we won’t go into them—around sixteen days on which they did not die. In other words, they passed away from Pesach until Shavuos, but not on every consecutive day. It is not that we need to divide twenty-four thousand students over forty-nine days and say that about five hundred passed away each day. No, about five hundred did not pass away every day, because on every day when Tachanun is not said, they did not pass away; there was no sorrow. On every

08:44 Speaker 2 On a day when Tachanun is said, about seven hundred died. That is the tradition recorded in the Maharil. From that tradition, two customs developed. What they have in common is mourning for only thirty-three days, because they died over thirty-three days. But we do not mourn on the actual days when they died. Notice the significant point in the Maharil’s words: we do not mourn on those same days, because they also died on 4 Sivan, if it was not Shabbos that year. They died on 4 Sivan too, but we mourn for thirty-three days until Lag BaOmer. Why? Corresponding to the thirty-three days over which they died. Not the same days, all right, not precisely the same days, but that is the principle. That is one view. A second view appears in the Maharil: the Sefer Maharil records another custom, to observe the thirty-three days from Rosh Chodesh Iyar until the eve of Shavuos. On 27 Nissan, even though they died then—because Tachanun is said on 27 Nissan; admittedly, according to our custom it is not, but that is not mentioned in the Maharil, and 27 Nissan is treated there as a day on which Tachanun is said—they died on 27 Nissan, and nevertheless, according to this custom, the mourning has not yet begun. The mourning lasts thirty-three days, until Shavuos. So we have two possibilities. Both agree that we mourn for a number of days corresponding to the number of days on which they died, not on the days when they actually died. It is the number that counts. Either we do it at the beginning, from the start of the Counting of the Omer until Lag BaOmer, or we begin a little later but continue to the end, until Shavuos. There are further details, but we will not go into every detail. These are the views that shorten the mourning period. The plain meaning of the Gemara, the plain meaning of the Gemara, is that the students of

11:01 Speaker 2 Rabbi Akiva died from beginning to end, an average of roughly five hundred a day. There are views among the Rishonim that shorten that period, with two general ways of doing so: either based on a tradition or a textual version that they stopped dying on Lag or 34 BaOmer, or based on a tradition that they died only on days when Tachanun is said, while the mourning is observed for a number of days corresponding to those on which Tachanun is said. Those are the views. Within the second view, there are two possibilities, a split: either from the beginning until Lag BaOmer, or from Rosh Chodesh Iyar until Shavuos. That appears in the Maharil. So when did Rabbi Akiva’s students die? We have two views. Now, the Gemara does not mention mourning. It does not say that Rabbi Akiva’s students died and therefore we mourn. The Gemara says, “Rabbi Akiva’s students died from Pesach until Shavuos.” The earliest sources that mention mourning are from the era of the Geonim: Rav Natronai Gaon, Rav Sherira Gaon, Rav Hai Gaon, several Geonim. After that, the Rishonim write that we mourn. So concerning the deaths of Rabbi Akiva’s students, we have two views that shorten the period. The Sephardic view follows a tradition that they died until Lag BaOmer. The Ashkenazic view limits their deaths to days on which Tachanun is said. That is a disagreement about history. The next disagreement concerns custom: what do we actually do about it? According to the Sephardic view, the mourning lasts until 34 BaOmer. Among Ashkenazim, there are two views, both brought by the Alter Rebbe in his Shulchan Aruch, section 493, paragraphs 5 and 6. What is the question between those two views? Do we mourn from the beginning until Lag BaOmer, according to the first view, or from Rosh Chodesh Iyar until Shavuos? A painful question is raised in the sefarim. The first source is the responsa of Maharash Halevi. Apparently, Maharash Halevi was a contemporary of the author of Mishneh LaMelech. His book was printed about three hundred and seventy

13:08 Speaker 2 years ago, and he asks: What are we celebrating on Lag BaOmer? What does it say? On Lag BaOmer, they stopped dying. What does it mean that they stopped dying on Lag BaOmer? Why did they stop dying, he asks? Because they had all died. If they all died, then they stopped dying because it was over. If this was the day when all of Rabbi Akiva’s students were gone, asks Maharash Halevi in his responsa, we have nothing to celebrate that day. If Rabbi Akiva had had fifty thousand students, and twenty-four thousand had died while twenty-six thousand remained, we would celebrate those who remained. But if no students remained, what is there to celebrate? That is the question Maharash Halevi asks in his responsa, and it seems that he is not entirely comfortable with this celebration of Lag BaOmer. But later sefarim offer answers. There is the Pri Chadash. The Pri Chadash is one of the great commentators on the Shulchan Aruch, Rabbi Chizkiyah di Silva. He lived a little after Maharash Halevi, a little over three hundred years ago, and he writes about what we celebrate on Lag BaOmer. He writes: “Perhaps the celebration is for those students whom Rabbi Akiva took on afterward, who did not die”—meaning the new students. “He went to our Rabbis in the south and taught it to them.” The Pri Chadash says: Why do we celebrate? Because of our Rabbis in the south, because of the five new students he taught. The Kaf HaChayim is an important work of halachah. Its author, Rabbi Yaakov Chaim Sofer, passed away in 5699. Some of the oldest people might remember him. It is an important work of halachah on Orach Chaim and Yoreh De’ah, and there is a yeshivah named after him. He has grandchildren who bear his name and continue to spread Torah. The Kaf HaChayim writes in the name of Shaar HaKavanos that he celebrated the new students. On Lag BaOmer, he celebrated the new students, and through them he established the continuity of Torah for the next generation. Okay, so if

15:07 Speaker 2 so, why do we celebrate on Lag BaOmer? According to Maharash Halevi, that is a problem. According to the Pri Chadash and the Kaf HaChayim, it is because of that continuity. The Rebbe offers a new explanation. On Shabbos Parshas Emor 5742, the Rebbe takes an entirely different approach. The Rebbe says that not all of them died; some of Rabbi Akiva’s students remained alive. Why did some of Rabbi Akiva’s students remain alive? Some received the message from Above. Some of Rabbi Akiva’s students took the sign from Above and improved their ways. Although they had originally been destined to die like the others, they changed their conduct and remained alive. Those are the views about the celebration. Why is their having stopped dying a cause for celebration? After all, it would seem they stopped dying because none were left. So the Rebbe says they were not all gone. Students remained. True, not enough students—the world was still described as desolate—but nevertheless, the celebration is for those who remained. In the Pri Chadash, and in the Kaf HaChayim citing Shaar HaKavanos, we see that the celebration is not for those who remained, but for the new students. So far, then, we have studied two parts. First, which days Rabbi Akiva’s students died and which days we mourn; we have studied the different views on that. Second, what do we celebrate on Lag BaOmer, when they stopped dying? What does “stopped dying” mean? We have seen the views on that as well. There are quite a few practical halachic differences between Ashkenazic and Sephardic custom. For example, Ashkenazim refrain from wearing new clothes; they do not begin wearing new clothes during the days of the Counting of the Omer. Our custom, shared by other Ashkenazim, is not to recite Shehecheyanu over a new fruit during the days of the Counting of the Omer except on Shabbos. Sephardic custom, on the other hand, permits wearing new clothes and reciting Shehecheyanu, as stated in the Kaf HaChayim and other sefarim. In general, Sephardic custom is more lenient about this mourning, whereas

17:07 Speaker 2 Ashkenazim are stricter about this mourning. Why is that? We could say that the custom to be stricter took hold. Okay, perhaps, but there is something particular here. We find three important sources—from the time of the Rishonim, from the middle of the Acharonim period, and from Acharonim closer to our own time—that connect the mourning during Sefiras HaOmer with another terrible event: mourning for the martyrs of Ashkenaz. The Aruch Hashulchan writes about this. The Aruch Hashulchan is a well-known halachic work; its author lived in the time of the Tzemach Tzedek. Some say that the author of the Aruch Hashulchan had a very long meeting, lasting several days or more, with the Tzemach Tzedek, and they talked. Some say it never happened; others say it happened in part. That is a separate subject. In any case, the Aruch Hashulchan lived in the generation of the Tzemach Tzedek and the Rebbe Maharash. The Aruch Hashulchan writes, in section 493: “We have also seen that the principal days of the persecutions in past centuries in France and Ashkenaz fell during these days, as is clear from the liturgical poems our predecessors composed for these Shabbosim.” We do not follow this ancient Ashkenazi custom, but the ancient Ashkenazi custom was to recite special liturgical poems during this period of Sefiras HaOmer, poems about the suffering the Jewish people endured. The Aruch Hashulchan writes this in connection with the mourning during Sefiras HaOmer. There is a book called Minhag Tov. Minhag Tov is not such a well-known book. It lists many good practices: it is a good practice to do this, a good practice to do that. It is a book by one of the Rishonim. Minhag Tov writes in section 61—pay attention—“It is a good practice not to have a haircut, not to wear new clothing or use anything new, not to enjoy oneself at the bathhouse, and not to trim one’s nails from after Pesach until Shavuos.” Why? He mentions the good practice of not wearing new clothing. Why? In honor of the sincere and upright chassidim who gave their lives to sanctify Hashem’s name. So we see this also

19:21 Speaker 2 in a book by one of the Rishonim and in a book by one of the Acharonim: the mourning of Sefiras HaOmer is also connected to the martyrs of Ashkenaz. Let us look at another important source, in the words of the Taz. The Taz is one of the great commentators on the Shulchan Aruch. He wrote the commentary Turei Zahav on all four sections of the Shulchan Aruch. In two sections, Orach Chayim and Yoreh Deah, the Taz appears at the top of the page as a principal commentator; in the other two, Even HaEzer and Choshen Mishpat, he appears at the bottom of the page. But he wrote a commentary on all four sections. The Taz, one of the great halachic authorities, asks: Why do we—why is the Ashkenazi custom to observe mourning from the beginning of Sefiras HaOmer until the end? After all, there are two opinions. One says to mourn from the beginning until Lag BaOmer; the other says from Rosh Chodesh Iyar until Shavuos. Why do we mourn from beginning to end? That does not follow either opinion. The Taz says: Essentially, we follow the first opinion and begin mourning at the start, until Lag BaOmer. Why do we continue? Because of the calamities that befell our forebears, our teachers, the sages of Ashkenaz. So we have seen three sources showing that the particular stringency, both in the length of time and in the customs concerning new clothing, Shehecheyanu, and so on, stems from the fact that there are two periods of mourning here: an ancient mourning for Rabbi Akiva’s students and a relatively recent mourning for the martyrs of Ashkenaz. And let us say a few words about that. Although the Alter Rebbe does not mention the mourning for the martyrs of Ashkenaz in section 493, since we see it in Minhag Tov, in the Taz, and in the Aruch Hashulchan, it seems worth saying a few words about it. What happened in Ashkenaz during this period? We are talking about the persecutions of 4856. The persecutions of 4856 means those of the year 4856. A long time has passed since then; we are already approaching a thousand years. In sixty or seventy years, it will be a thousand years since the persecutions of 4856. That was

21:37 Speaker 2 still in Rashi’s lifetime. On Tisha B’Av we recite many liturgical poems, many kinnot, many accounts of sorrow. Several of the kinnot we recite on Tisha B’Av—four kinnot—are devoted to this, to the persecutions of 4856, the terrible persecutions in the time of the sages of Ashkenaz in the year 4856. This is called the First Crusade. Let us say a few words about the persecutions of that period. One of the kinnot, Kinah 26, begins, “If only my head were water.” The poet says: If only my whole head were a great vessel of water, a tank of water. “If only my head were water, and my eyes a flowing spring”—if only my eyes were faucets—“I would weep all my days and nights; day and night I would weep for my slain, for the children, infants, and elders of my congregations; and you, respond with cries of woe and lamentation.” The poet, Rabbi Kalonymus son of Rabbi Yehudah, really sounds like someone who experienced the events or lived close to them. He laments and wants to weep to the very end, to his last breath. In the poem he mentions the dates. We will read the passages about the dates and see that, indeed, the main dates fall during Sefiras HaOmer. He speaks about the famous ancient communities of Speyer, Worms, and Mainz, known by the Hebrew acronym ShUM. ShUM stands for Speyer, Worms, and Mainz, three very important, ancient communities in Ashkenaz. Some said that Jews had lived in the ShUM communities—Speyer, Worms, and Mainz—since the time of the Second Beis Hamikdash. In any case, what does he write? “My eyelids pour forth water, tears to shed, and I lament bitterly for the slain of Speyer—Speyer, on Monday...” The 8th of Iyar was the day of the massacre in Speyer. He continues, “And in my bitter grief, as I remember the community of Worms”—Worms. Twice they sanctified His unique name. And when? On the twenty-third of the month of Ziv, 23 Iyar, and in the third month, when Hallel is sung, on Rosh Chodesh Sivan. Again we see that the massacres in Worms also took place during Sefiras HaOmer, on 23 Iyar

23:59 Speaker 2 and Rosh Chodesh Sivan. “And for the noble members of the community of Mainz, in the third month, on the third”—3 Sivan, still during Sefiras HaOmer. So, as the Taz, the Aruch Hashulchan, and Minhag Tov said, because these days of Sefiras HaOmer included, in addition to the ancient mourning for Rabbi Akiva’s students, the terrible persecutions of 4856—the Crusade and the massacres in the lands of Ashkenaz—another dimension of mourning was added during these days. That is why the Taz says there are more days, and why some say the mourning customs are stricter. That concludes the third part. Ashkenazim also take into account, during this period of Sefiras HaOmer, the Crusades. The joy of Lag BaOmer is because it is the day of Rashbi’s passing. This is the day Rashbi passed away, and it is a day of particular joy. Let us discuss the basis for this. First, it is important to know that Chazal and the Rishonim do not mention Lag BaOmer as the day of Rashbi’s passing. Nowhere does it say on what date Rashbi passed away. The source is in the writings of the Arizal. The writings of the Arizal say that this is the day Rashbi passed away, though there is room to examine the matter. In Shaarei Hamoadim, section 84, it is noted that the passage saying Rabbi Shimon bar Yochai passed away then is a difficult passage. It is not certain that it actually came from the Arizal. Nevertheless, it became accepted throughout the Jewish world that Lag BaOmer is the day of Rashbi’s passing. The main basis, apparently, is the ruach hakodesh of our Rebbeim and of other great Jewish sages before and after them. There is no entirely clear source for it. There is no entirely clear source for it. The Divrei Nechemiah writes—Rabbi Nechemiah of Dubrovna, author of Divrei Nechemiah, was one of the great chassidim of the Alter Rebbe and the Mitteler Rebbe. Later he also corresponded with the Tzemach Tzedek and was one of his chassidim. He was a relative; he married into the family of

26:14 Speaker 2 Ah, the Chabad Rebbes. He writes: “The matter of the hilula of Rashbi on Lag BaOmer has already become known throughout the world for several generations.” Even from his wording, we see that this is something that became widely known several generations ago. It was not something known in the days of Chazal and the Rishonim; rather, it became known in more recent generations, closer to the lifetime of the Divrei Nechemiah, Rabbi Nechemiah of Dubrovna, one of the great Chabad chassidim. So we rejoice on the hilula of Rashbi. We know the story the Rebbe relates about Rabbi Avraham Halevi, a student of the Arizal. Rabbi Avraham Halevi felt the destruction so deeply, felt the sorrow over the destruction of the Beis Hamikdash so deeply in his heart, that he would say Nachem every day. He would add the passage that we add on Tisha B’Av every day. The Rebbe discusses whether it was literally every day—not literally every day, but in principle he added it almost every day. He came to Rashbi’s resting place on Lag BaOmer and said Nachem there too. But Rashbi took issue with him. Rashbi said, as the Rebbe puts it, that on the day of his rejoicing he cannot tolerate a lack of joy. The Arizal, speaking in Rashbi’s name, rebuked Rabbi Avraham Halevi, and Rabbi Avraham Halevi was punished for mourning the destruction on the day of Rashbi’s rejoicing. The Chasam Sofer raised a difficulty with this. He says: Why celebrate on the day of Rashbi’s hilula? Even if a miracle occurred on that day, there is room to discuss how to celebrate. But on a day when no miracle occurred, one cannot institute a celebration, one cannot establish a new festival. The Chasam Sofer discusses this and offers explanations based on Kabbalah for how one can rejoice on this day. In any case, we know that for us—and with this we’ll conclude this part, the part about rejoicing on Lag

28:07 Speaker 2 BaOmer because of Rashbi’s hilula—we’ll conclude with what the Rebbe writes many times: this is a great day. At that time, Rashbi reached the beginning and source of all his spiritual levels, their root. This was the subject of his study with his companions at that time, and the radiance of Moshiach’s light shone within him. On this day, what was awakened when Rashbi passed away is awakened again. And it is especially relevant to us, even more than it was to our teachers seven hundred years ago. Why is it especially relevant to us? Because in our generations, it is permitted and a mitzvah to reveal this wisdom. So we have a special connection to the inner dimension of Torah, a connection that our teachers in those generations did not necessarily have. We’ve seen, then, that we rejoice on this day because of Rashbi’s spiritual elevation. There are two difficulties with this. The first: What is the source for saying that Rashbi experienced this elevation on that day? We saw that the source is in the writings of the Arizal, but the Rebbe and many others say that this is not precise. So what is the source? There has been much discussion about this, and many pens have been worn down over it; the main explanation seems to be ruach hakodesh. The second difficulty with rejoicing on this day is the Chasam Sofer’s words: How can a celebration be instituted? But in practice, the main thing is that we rejoice on this day. We travel to Meron, dance, go to parades, and so on and so forth. And we’ll move to the last topic of our class, the fifth topic. Two reasons, then, have been given for the joy of Lag BaOmer. One: Rabbi Akiva’s students stopped dying. Two: Rabbi Shimon bar Yochai passed away on this day. The Rebbe says there must be a connection between them. And here we return to the point we mentioned at the beginning: How could Rabbi Akiva’s students fail to treat one another with respect? How could they fail to treat one another with respect? After all, they were Rabbi Akiva’s students. Rabbi Akiva taught them that “You shall love your fellow as yourself” is a great principle of the Torah. So if they were Rabbi Akiva’s students but did not have “You shall love your fellow as yourself,” in what sense were they his students?

30:06 Speaker 2 What are we talking about here? The Rebbe gives a well-known explanation, and through it we’ll understand the connection between Rabbi Akiva’s students stopping dying and Rabbi Shimon bar Yochai passing away on this day. The Rebbe says that Rabbi Akiva’s students learned something else from him as well. We know that all his life Rabbi Akiva longed for the opportunity to give his life for Hashem. All his life he said, “When will it come to my hand so that I may fulfill it?” The Rebbe says this teaches us that Rabbi Akiva had an approach of going beyond all limits, of rising above physicality, of giving himself completely. His students absorbed that same drive to go all the way. And just as people’s faces differ, so do their opinions. When Rabbi Akiva taught them how to serve Hashem, or sat with them at a farbrengen about how to serve Hashem, each student understood it a little differently—but what each one understood, he embraced wholeheartedly and completely. When he saw that his fellow student could not connect with what he was saying, that his fellow student thought differently, he spoke with him, corrected him, tried to persuade him, and taught him. But his fellow student stood firm, and he too was committed all the way. That is why they could not treat one another with respect. They could not treat one another with respect because each one lived fully by the approach as he understood it. Those were Rabbi Akiva’s students. This is called ratzo: the desire to rise upward, to rise above physicality, to give oneself completely. Ratzo without shov. This ratzo without shov caused them not to treat one another with respect. What does Rashbi represent? And what does the day of his passing, which sums up his entire life, represent? The Rebbe says that Rashbi represents ratzo together with shov. What does it mean that Rashbi represents ratzo together with shov? During the years Rashbi

31:56 Speaker 2 was in the cave, he was in a state of ratzo: rising above the world, withdrawing from it, devoting himself to what is above—to G-dliness. But when he left the cave, we see that he was in a state of shov: descending into the world, bringing lights into vessels. It says that everything Rabbi Elazar struck, Rabbi Shimon healed. What’s more, he checked whether