There are days on the Jewish calendar that are not just dates, but gateways—gateways into a deeper understanding of life, of the soul, and of what it truly means to be a Jew. Lag BaOmer is one of those days. At first glance, it seems almost ordinary. It is not a biblical holiday, there is no specific mitzvah attached to it, and yet—fires are lit everywhere, joy fills the air, and the name of Rabbi Shimon Bar Yochai illuminates the entire world.
What is the secret of this day? What makes it so unique? And why is Rabbi Shimon Bar Yochai elevated as the symbol of light and rectification, more than the 24,000 תלמידים (students or disciples) of Rabbi Akiva, who were giants in their own right?
Let us open three שערים—three deep perspectives—that will not only explain what happened then, but what is expected from us today.
The first explanation is rooted in the story of the cave. The Gemara tells us that Rabbi Shimon Bar Yochai spent 12 years in a cave, and then an additional year. He lived a life of absolute holiness, completely detached from the physical world, immersed in Torah and divine truth.
When he first emerged, he saw people working in the fields—plowing, planting, building their lives. His reaction was sharp: “They abandon eternal life and engage in temporary life?” Wherever he looked, things were burned.
This is a powerful moment. Rabbi Shimon was holy, pure, and true—but he was still a תלמיד. He knew truth, but he did not yet know how to hold people.
Hashem sends him back into the cave. One more year. One more stage of refinement.
And when he comes out the second time—he is different. Now he sees Jews running before Shabbat holding two myrtle branches, honoring Shabbat, and he is moved. He learns to see goodness. He learns that holiness exists not only in separation, but within life itself.
This is the difference between a student and a rabbi. A student searches for truth. A rabbi searches for souls. A student sees what is right. A rabbi sees who is standing in front of him.
This is why Lag BaOmer marks the cessation of the תלמידים (talmidim) of Rabbi Akiva dying—because the world received the תיקון (tikkun). The correction of Rabbi Shimon: to see every Jew positively, to judge favorably, to understand that not everyone is in the same place, and that even someone who seems distant carries a hidden light.
A short story brings this idea to life. A simple Jew once entered a great בית מדרש (Beit Midrash or House of Study). He did not know how to learn, barely knew how to read. He sat quietly in the corner and recited Tehillim with a broken voice. Some students looked at him with disdain—this is a place for scholars, what is he doing here?
The rabbi of the place approached him, sat next to him, and said: “You should know, your Tehillim opens gates that all our learning cannot open.”
That is a rabbi. That is the vision of Rabbi Shimon—to see what others overlook.
The second explanation is rooted in a deep halachic principle that becomes a profound spiritual foundation. Rabbi Shimon holds in the laws of Shabbat: “Two people who perform a מלאכה (melacha) together are exempt.” If a task is done jointly in a way that neither could do it alone, it is not considered a complete מלאכה.
On a deeper level, this is revolutionary. A human being never acts alone. Within every person there is a גוף (body) and a נשמה (Neshama), a yetzer tov (good will) and a yetzer ra (evil inclinations), a pure רצון (ratzon or will) and human weakness.
When a person sins—it is not entirely “him.” It is a partnership of conflicting forces. It is a struggle. It is complex.
Rabbi Shimon teaches us to look deeper. Do not rush to define a person by a single act. Do not assume the action reflects the entirety of who they are.
This is why it is said about him that he can “free the entire world from judgment.” How is that possible? Because he sees differently. He sees that a person is never fully identified with their failure. There is always a part within that wants good. There is always a pure soul.
A story illustrates this beautifully. A man came to a great rabbi and said, “Rabbi, I am a bad person. I have done terrible things.”
THE RABBI ASKED HIM, “WHEN YOU DID THOSE THINGS—DEEP INSIDE, DID YOU WANT TO DO GOOD?”
THE MAN WAS SILENT. AFTER A MOMENT, HE SAID, “YES… DEEP INSIDE, I DID.”
THE RABBI SAID, “THEN THAT IS WHO YOU TRULY ARE. NOW START LIVING ACCORDING TO THAT.”
That is the perspective of Rabbi Shimon. Not to define a person by their fall, but by their inner will.
This also explains why Lag BaOmer is a day of joy and not mourning. Because on this day we access the ability to see beyond the surface—to see the light within every Jew.
The third explanation is perhaps the deepest, and it touches the difference between love and respect.
We often assume that love is the highest value. But Chazal teach that the students of Rabbi Akiva “did not show respect for one another.” It does not say they did not love each other. In fact, they likely loved each other deeply. They learned together, lived together, grew together.
But something was missing—כבוד (kavod or honor).
What is the difference? Love is an emotion. It comes from closeness, from connection, from shared experience. Respect is recognition of the inherent value of the other—even if I feel no emotional connection.
I can love someone and still not truly respect them.
I can respect someone without loving them.
But true greatness is when both exist together—and especially when respect leads.
Respect means seeing the soul of the other person. It means recognizing that they carry a piece of the Divine. It means not dismissing them, not belittling them, not stepping over them—even when you disagree.
The students of Rabbi Akiva were great—but perhaps each one was so certain of his truth that he could not fully make space for another.
Rabbi Shimon Bar Yochai comes to repair this. He reveals the inner dimension of Torah—the secret that every Jew is a complete world, every soul a unique light.
A short story captures this idea. Two people were arguing intensely in a beit midrash. Each one was convinced he was right. The argument escalated. One turned to the rabbi and said, “Tell him he is wrong!”
THE RABBI LOOKED AT HIM AND SAID, “YOU ARE RIGHT.”
THE SECOND SAID, “RABBI, I AM ALSO RIGHT!”
THE RABBI SAID, “YOU ARE ALSO RIGHT.”
A STUDENT SITTING NEARBY ASKED, “RABBI, HOW CAN THEY BOTH BE RIGHT?”
The rabbi smiled and said, “When you understand that each person sees only part of the truth—you stop canceling one another.”
That is respect. That is depth. That is תיקון (tikkun).
And this is why Lag BaOmer is a day of fire. Not just any fire—an inner fire. A fire of depth, of love, but also of respect. A fire that does not destroy—but illuminates.
The fire of Rabbi Shimon Bar Yochai is a fire that warms instead of burns. It sees goodness instead of only truth. It embraces instead of judges.
AND ULTIMATELY, THIS IS THE MESSAGE OF THIS DAY:
If you want to become great—do not only strive to be right. Strive to see good in others.
Do not rush to judge—try to understand. Do not measure a person by a single act—see their soul. And do not settle for love—build respect.
Because where there is respect—there is life. And where there is life—there is Torah. And where there is Torah—there is light.
That is the light of Lag BaOmer—a light that never fades, a light that reminds us who we truly are.
WISHING YOU ALL A SHABBAT SHALOM,
RABBI ASHER VAKNIN
BJCC Rabbi of the Bukharian Youth
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By Rabbi Asher Vaknin