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By: Chaya Sora Jungreis-Gertzulin
Ever think it’s too late…. I can’t start over again… how do I even begin?
Rabbi Akiva teaches us otherwise.
Rabbi Akiva was an uneducated shepherd, who at age forty turned his life around, and became a Torah scholar, a leader of his generation.
He worked for Kalba Savua, a wealthy land owner, who had a beautiful daughter, Rachel. She was able to see beyond the shepherd. She saw the real Akiva, and believed in him. She saw a man with kindness and understanding. A man with great optimism, who, if he willed it, could become a great Torah scholar. Rachel was ready to marry him, but with one condition – that Akiva study Torah.
To Akiva, it was the impossible dream. How can an illiterate shepherd transform himself into a student of Torah, let alone a scholar.
One day, while tending the sheep, Akiva passed a small waterfall. He watched the water running down, drop-by-drop, hitting the stones. Akiva was able to look at HaShem’s beautiful world and discern life lessons. “Is my heart harder than stone? If water can pierce a stone, surely Torah can penetrate my heart.” Thus began his transformation from a simple shepherd to a great Torah scholar.
Rabbi Akiva realized realized it wasn’t one or two drops, nor the first or hundredth drop that made a difference, but the gradual, constant impact of the water on the stone over a prolonged period. That it takes time for change to happen.
At times we may feel overwhelmed. How will I learn it all… how will I ever finish… I have so much to accomplish… it’s an impossible feat. Take a cue from Rabbi Akiva. Drop by drop, one task at a time, with consistency, and it will get done.
Akiva and Rachel married, and with Rachel’s encouragement, Akiva begin his Torah journey. But then, Rabbi Akiva faced another challenge. How does a forty-year-old sit down among young children to learn the Aleph-Beis? The stares, the laughs. Rachel answered his fears with action. She took a donkey, decorating it with ribbons and a funny hat. She told Akiva to join in walking the donkey through the streets of Yerushalayim. Heads turned, fingers pointed, and people laughed. The next day, they did the same, the following day as well. But with each successive day, less and less people laughed. After a few more days, no one even noticed.
Words were not necessary. Rabbi Akiva understood. At the beginning, people may talk, but then it becomes old news. No one even cared. Thus, he humbled himself to study alongside young children, determined to absorb more and more.
With time, Rabbi Akiva completed learning the entire Torah. His comprehension was so deep, that when he posed complicated questions to Rabbi Elazar and Rabbi Yehoshua, two of the most learned sages of the generation, they didn’t readily have answers.
Students from across Eretz Yisroel flocked to study with Rabbi Akiva. But then, tragedy struck. A devastating plague came upon them during the days of Sefira. Twelve thousand chavrusas, twenty-four thousand students succumbed to the epidemic.
Rabbi Akiva loved his students. To him, each one was precious. He was their spiritual father, and they were like children to him.
We can’t even begin to imagine the pain that Rabbi Akiva must have endured. But how did he react? Did he become depressed? Complain to HaShem? Did he second- guess his being a Torah leader? That he failed as a teacher? Did he question starting over at his advanced age?
Rabbi Akiva didn’t give up. Instead, upon the end of the epidemic on Lag B’Omer, he mustered up his energy, stood strong, and forged ahead. The Gemara relates that Rabbi Akiva gathered a new group of five students who carried on with the study of Torah at that critical time.
I am reminded of my maternal grandparents. Like so many others who experienced the horrors of the Holocaust, often losing their entire families, they came to a new world, committed to rebuild and start over. Though their hometown in Hungary, and the shul they built, were destroyed by the Germans, they were determined to continue on. They settled in Brooklyn, where they started a new shul. Step-by-step, slowly but consistently, the shul grew and flourished. Just when they thought that they were on a path of restoring what was lost, tragedy struck once again. A local gang of teenagers set fire to the shul.
Imagine the agony to see one’s shul destroyed not once, but twice. But Zeide and Mama didn’t despair. Like Rabbi Akiva, generations before, they set out once again to rebuild. This was not a time to quit or become absorbed with self-pity. It was a time to show leadership and fortitude.
Zeide got to work, attempting to salvage what he could from amongst the ashes. Mama started baking cookies to give to those who came to help. They found light in midst of darkness, hope in midst of despair.
How did they and so many others pick up the pieces and start over? Once again, we turn to a page in the storybook of Rabbi Akiva. The Gemara (Makkos 24b) relates that after the destruction of the Beis HaMikdash, , Rabbi Akiva was walking through the ruins of Yerushalayim with Rabban Gamliel, R’ Elazar ben Azaryah and R’ Yeshoshua. When the group arrived at Har HaTzofim, Mount Scopus, from where they could see the place the Bais HaMikdash once stood, they tore kriyah, rending their clothes in mourning.
As the four rabbis approached the Har HaBayis, the Temple Mount, they observed a fox emerging from the spot of the Kodesh HaKodoshim, the Holy of Holies. The three rabbis accompanying Rabbi Akiva couldn’t help but cry at the sight of the destruction and devastation. But Rabbi Akiva laughed.
“Rabbi Akiva, why are you laughing?” Rabbi Akiva replied with his own question, “And why are you crying?”
“We are crying for Yerushalayim. We are crying at the sight of foxes roaming where the Holiest of Holies once stood. We are crying at the realization of Uriah’s prophecy that ‘Tzion sadeh techaresh, Zion will be a plowed over like a field.’ ” (Michah 3:12)
Rabbi Akiva retorted, “I am smiling for the very same reason. Now that I see the fulfillment of Uriah’s prophecy, I know that Zechariah’s prophecy will come true as well. ‘Od yeishvu z’kedinim u’z’keinos birchovos Yerushalayim, Elderly men and women will once again sit in the streets of Yerushalayim… ha’ir yimalu v’yeladim v’yelados mesachakim birchovoseha, the city will be crowded with boys and girls playing in the squares…’ ” (Zechariah 8:4-5)
The three rabbis declared, “Akiva, nichamtanu, Akiva nichamtanu. Akiva, you comforted us, Akiva you comforted us.”
We are living in challenging times. But Rabbi Akiva taught us to believe in the future, filled with the hope of a better tomorrow. May we too not submit to despair or become disillusioned. May we be able to say and feel Akiva nichamtanu, Akiva nichamtanu, Akiva, you comforted us, Akiva, you comforted us.
Shabbat Shalom!
Chaya Sora
Chaya Sora can be reached at csgertzulin@gmail.com
This article was written L’zecher Nishmas/In Memory Of HaRav Meshulem ben HaRav Osher Anshil HaLevi, zt”l and Rebbetzin Esther bas HaRav Avraham HaLevi
The post Parshas Emor–The Impossible Dream appeared first on The Jewish Voice.
By: Naftali Reich
The essential theme behind the counting of the sefirah is, of course, perfecting our character traits. This is alluded to in the famous words of Rabbi Akiva, the teacher of Rav Shimon Bar Yochai, who explained the verse, “Love your neighbor like yourself,” to mean that this quintessential Torah law is the source from which flows all the Torah’s teachings. ”
In order to fully appreciate the import of Rabbi Akiva’s teaching, let us read the famous narrative recorded in the Talmud Kesuvos (daf 62:2) about Rabbi Akiva and his righteous wife, Rachel.
“Rabbi Akiva worked as a shepherd for the wealthy Kalba Savua, whose daughter, Rachel, recognized Akiva’s modesty and aspiring greatness. She approached him with an offer: “if I become betrothed to you, will you go to the Yeshiva to study Torah?” After he responded in the affirmative, they became secretly betrothed, and he went off to study. Upon discovering his daughter’s marriage to the unlearned shepherd, the wealthy Kalba Savua disowned her.
Rabbi Akiva remained in the Bais Hamedrash learning Torah for 12 years. When he finally returned home, he was accompanied by 12,000 students. As he was about to cross the threshold of his home, he heard an elderly man provoking his wife about his long absence. “How long will you remain a living widow?” the man asked, to which she replied, “If my husband would only listen to me he would devote himself to another twelve years of uninterrupted study.”
With these words of permission and encouragement, Rabbi Akiva turned around and returned to the yeshiva. He studied for another twelve years after which he returned with 24,000 students. His wife, Rochel, went out to greet him. Approaching him, she fell to the ground and kissed his feet. His attendants tried to push her away but were stopped by Rabbi Akiva, who told them, “All that is mine and all that is yours belongs to her.”
With this episode, the Talmud gives us insight into the supreme and selfless dedication of Rabbi Akiva’s wife and Rabbi Akiva. Yet the narrative prompts some basic questions: Is there a significance to the number 12,000 (students) who accompanied him on his first return home? Furthermore, upon his second return after another twelve years, shouldn’t the growth of his students have been exponential, not merely double?
In another interesting twist, the sages teach us that whenever the Talmud refers to Hu Saba, “an elderly man,” it invariably refers to Elijah the prophet. Elijah had come at that specific moment to prompt Rabbi Akiva’s wife to respond with her selfless declaration that she wished he would learn Torah for another twelve years. Clearly, this was all divinely engineered. Why was it so important for Rabbi Akiva to study uninterrupted for another twelve years to the point where Hashem actually sent Eliyahu Hanavi to bring this about?
I believe the answer lies in a basic understanding of Rabbi Akiva’s teaching about the essential meaning and purpose of Torah study, and of life itself. In essence, Hashem is the unifying force that sustains and permeates all of creation. Nevertheless, Hashem created a finite, fragmented and divided world where this unifying force is not easily perceived. The different compounds and elements, components and polarities that comprise the physical world serve to mask the fact that they all emanate from a single primary source.
Our mission is to glimpse what lies beyond the external divide, to see Creator in creation by connecting the dots. We are all essentially souls that flow from one place-the Heavenly throne. We are all thus bonded as one at our source. Nevertheless, our souls are implanted in independent bodies, each uniquely different from the other, each agitating for its own individual needs and operating on its own instincts of self-preservation.
How can we transcend our physical differences and genuinely bond with one another, thereby uniting with our divine source?
Rabbi Akiva provides the answer. Love your neighbor as yourself; this is the noblest and most fundamental doctrine governing a Jew’s life, and it is acquired only through Torah. Through Torah we connect to Hashem’s infinite mind and will. When we study Torah, however, each of us has our own pathway and medium, our own unique way of understanding. We are so certain we have arrived at the truth though our own perceptions, it is difficult to see the bigger picture and to accord the appropriate respect to our counterpart in study.
There is no greater challenge than achieving a true internal synthesis whereby we can maintain our independent mode of thought while recognizing at the same time that everything contains elements of truth, and that all flows from one divine source.
Rabbi Akiva’s greatness as a unifying force among the Jewish people was to raise 12,000 students. The Jewish nation consists of 12 tribes, each invested with its own unique, principled pathway and mission. The number 1,000 in Hebrew is “elef,” represented by the same symbol as the letter one. With 1,000 students in each tribe, reflecting the total diversity of Torah understanding, Rabbi Akiva could nevertheless unify them as one, inspiring and bringing together all the tribes jointly to bond through Torah to their source. A lofty accomplishment indeed!
Yet there was higher level of achievement that Heaven had ordained for Rabbi Akiva and his wife. It required harnessing a form of supernatural energy and it would accomplish a supernatural goal.
A husband and wife are essentially one soul divided into two opposites, and when they unite in harmony and peace the divine presence rests between them. So too, each of these 12,000 were to become zugos, pairs. It is natural for two individuals to argue the finer nuances of their individual line of Torah reasoning and thus approach the matter from all possible angles.
If, while dissenting with one another’s arguments, they would display the appropriate respect and esteem due a Torah scholar of such stature, the opposite, yet cohesive forces produced by their Torah leaning would bring the ultimate revelation of the Divine presence to this world. The highest spiritual goal for human existence would then be achieved.
The post Parshas Emor – Prisms of Light; Reflections From a Shattered Glass appeared first on The Jewish Voice.
