10 May DROP BY DROP… STEP BY STEP
Ever think it’s too late…. I can’t start over again… new beginnings are not for me?
Rabbi Akiva teaches us otherwise.
Rabbi Akiva was an uneducated shepherd, who at age forty turned his life around, becoming a Torah scholar, a leader of his generation.
He worked as a shepherd for Kalba Savua, a wealthy land owner, who had a beautiful daughter, Rachel. She was able to discern Akiva’s strength of character and great potential. She was ready to marry him, but had one prerequisite – that Akiva study Torah.
To Akiva, it was the impossible dream. How can an illiterate shepherd transform himself into a student of Torah?
One day, while tending the sheep, Akiva passed a spring of water. He watched the water running down, drop-by-drop hitting the stones. He realized that over time, the rocks that were consistently hit by the flow of water became smooth and indented. It wasn’t one or two drops, but the accumulation of many drops over a prolonged period. He understood that for change to happen, it takes time.
Rabbi Akiva observed HaShem’s amazing world, learning many life lessons. He understood that with persistence, “drop-by-drop”, step-by-step, he could transform his life. With that realization, Akiva asked himself, “Is my heart harder than stone? If water can pierce a stone, surely Torah can enter my heart.”
Akiva and Rachel married, and with Rachel’s encouragement, Akiva began to study. He started at the very beginning, learning the Aleph-Beis, but quickly advanced. 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 and thorough, that when he posed complicated questions to Rabbi Elazar and Rabbi Yehoshua, they didn’t readily have answers.
A lesson for us all. Like the constant drops of water that are able to penetrate a rock, with persistence and sticking to our goals, we can change our lives, and the lives of those around us.
Students from across Eretz Yisroel flocked to study with Rabbi Akiva. But then, tragedy struck. Though they had been immersed in Torah study, the Talmud (Yevamos 62b) tells us that “because they did not show one another the proper respect,” 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.
The Talmud (Nedarim 40a) relates that Rabbi Akiva visited one of his students who was ill. He noticed that the room was in disarray, and proceeded to have it cleaned up. He even had the harmful dust swept from the floor, and the student recovered. “You saved my life,” the grateful student cried out.
While we learn the importance of bikur cholim from Rabbi Akiva’s actions, we also gain insight into how much he loved his students. He went above and beyond. Nothing was beneath him.
We can’t even begin to imagine the pain that Rabbi Akiva must have endured during those difficult days of the plague. But how did he react? Did he become depressed? Bitter? Angry? 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 crumble or fall apart. He mustered up his energy, stood strong, and forged ahead. The Gemarah relates that Rabbi Akiva engaged 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, determined 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 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 yet again. A local gang set fire to their shul, wrecking it to its foundation.
But Zeide and Mama didn’t despair or become bitter. Like Rabbi Akiva generations earlier, they set out once again to rebuild. This was not a time to quit or become absorbed with self-pity. This was a time for comforting and strength. 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 distribute to those who came to assist with the cleanup. 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 Gemarah (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 where the Bais HaMikdash once stood, they tore kriyah, rending their clothes in mourning.
As the four rabbis approached the actual place where the Beis HaMikdosh had stood, they observed a fox emerging from the spot of the Kodesh HaKodoshim, the Holy of Holies. The three rabbis accompanying Rabbi Akiva began to cry, 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 Uriyah’s prophecy that ‘Zion will be a plowed over like a field.’ ”
Rabbi Akiva said, “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. ‘Elderly men and women will once again sit in the streets of Yerushalayim.’ ”
The three rabbis declared, “Akiva, neechamtanu, Akiva neechamtanu. Akiva, you comforted us, Akiva you comforted us.”
The strength of Rabbi Akiva. The strength of Am Yisroel. To look at the world with an ayin tov, with a good eye. To see a glass that is not half empty, but half full. That HaShem has a master plan, and it will all work out. To live with the words of gam zu l’tova, it is all for the best.
Let’s remember the words of Rabbi Akiva. Let’s remember the determination of Zeide and Mama. Not submit to despair or become disillusioned. If and when we must, let’s find the strength and courage to rebuild, bigger and better.
Shabbat Shalom!