07 May The Mysterious Death of Rabbi Akiva’s Disciples

Now that we are in the midst of the days of sefira, we are very much involved in practicing what it says is the Shulchan Aruch. One should not shave, one should not listen to music, and one should not get married from the second day of Pesach until Lag B’Omer. In fact, this time of year is one of only two instances in the Jewish calendar when we observe a national mourning for an extended period of time. The other time of year is, of course, during the Three Weeks, from the seventeenth day of Tamuz until that infamous day, the Ninth of Av.

We can readily understand why we mourn during those Three Weeks which climax with the terrible day of Tisha B’Av. Those days commemorate a great tragedy – the destruction of the two Holy Temples. We know that bracha and prosperity emanated from the Shulchan (the Holy Table in the Mikdash), just as we know kapara, atonement, emanated from the Beis HaMikdash itself. And, of course, the Temple was the place where Hashem would reside in our midst. With the destruction of the Temples, we lost all of that. We lost the close presence of the Shechina. That was truly a loss of national significance. Therefore, we can certainly see why so much emphasis is put on mourning for the loss of the two Temples.

However, the mourning during sefira which we are observing now needs more study. Why are we mourning? The Shulchan Aruch tells us it is because of the terrible disaster that befell the disciples of Rabbi Akiva who had twenty-four thousand talmidim. They all died between Pesach and Lag B’Omer from a horrible and painful death known as askara, which can be translated as either croup or diphtheria. Since they all died during this time, we keep a long period of national mourning.

Indeed, this was a terrible disaster but, unfortunately, it was not the worst our people have seen. There were much greater disasters. In our recent history, the holocaust looms. Before this, there were uncountable pogroms and massacres – where many more than twenty-four thousand people died. And for those events, we did not even set aside one day of mourning – let alone thirty. Therefore, we have to understand why Chazal chose this particular incident in our history for commemoration in all generations. We have to analyze what makes this tragedy so unique.

In his day, Rabbi Akiva was the Gadol HaDor, the greatest sage of that generation. He raised twenty-four thousand talmidei chochomim, exceptional students. The Gemora informs us that they spread out all over – from the city of Givas to the city of Antifras. These cities were the pillars of Torah in that era. These talmidim were the people who everyone looked up to as the pillars of society as role models for their children, and as those who upheld Yiddishkeit. Then, disaster fell and plucked away the disciples of Rabbi Akiva – they alone – and no others. Those great men of stature all died; every single one of them. Not only did they all die, but they all died the same horrible death – one that the Gemora in Brachos [8a] tells us is the worst of over nine hundred different types of death that Hashem created in this world. Moreover, they all died during the same period of time; from Pesach until Atzeres, from Pesach until Shavuos. So we are beginning to see that this event was clearly unique, one that screams out for interpretation.

The Gemora in Yevamos [62b] states that this tragedy left the world desolate of Torah, Ha’olam shomein. That would be comparable to saying that if, G-d forbid, a disaster would strike and all the Yeshivas we have today would be destroyed, we would have no Torah left. This was the situation in the time of Rabbi Akiva. Hashem destroyed almost every talmid chochom. People then were asking themselves, “Zu Torah v’zu sechorah – This is Torah and this is her reward!?” Fortunately, in those days we still had sages who were great enough to pinpoint the cause and explain to us why such a calamity occurred. And, once explained to us, as it was to them, we learn a very great lesson. And that lesson is what we must to review again and again, every year during sefira.

The Gemora in Yevamos tells us that the reason the talmidim of Rabbi Akiva died was, “Shelo nahagu kavod zeh l’zeh – They did not practice honor one with another.” Note that the Gemora does not say they disgraced one another, or that they embarrassed each other. The Gemora simply states that they did not honor each other. They did not do anything negative – yet neither was there any positive action.

Now, we may ask ourselves, Is this such a terrible sin that its penalty is deserving of being death? Especially when we remind ourselves that these were talmidei chochomim, we wonder, Wasn’t their Torah enough to protect them? And if they did deserve death, we may further question, Was their transgression so terrible that they deserved to die so horribly of diphtheria?

The Maharsha offers an explanation. The Gemora in Shabbos states, “Siman l’loshon hora: askara – A sign of loshon hora is askara.” If a person dies of diphtheria, it is probable that person was guilty of speaking loshon hora. So, the Maharsha conjectures, perhaps the talmidim spoke loshon hora about each other and in this way, they did not honor one another. However, this is a little hard to grasp. First of all, is it presumable, is it even possible, that Rabbi Akiva did not rebuke them for this sin? Surely he would have tried to correct their ways. Couldn’t Rabbi Akiva stop them in time, or at least in time enough to save at least some of his talmidim? And, is it possible that all twenty-four thousand talmidei chochomim were not makpid, were not careful in loshon hora? Weren’t there some talmidim who did not commit the terrible sin of loshon hora?

And, if we accept the fact that this indeed was their sin, is it conceivable that everyone else was careful not to speak loshon hora except them? After all, we have to remember that only these talmidei chochomim died. No layman suffered, no ‘am ha’aretz’ died. The disease should have affected more than just twenty-four thousand people, especially those other people who didn’t have the merit of learning Torah supporting them.

We can question further, why didn’t any of those twenty-four thousand talmidim do teshuvah? Why didn’t they take it to heart once they saw their friends dying? After all, the Gemora says, “Meis echad min hachaburah, yidagu kol hachaburah – If one of the group dies, the whole group should worry.” The individuals in the group must search their own deeds and correct what is askew. If it was such a blatant sin as loshon hora, how come the rest of the talmidim did not realize this and correct themselves before it was too late? With all these questions, it is hard to imagine that their sin was indeed loshon hora.

What, then was it? What did the twenty four-thousand disciples of Rabbi Akiva do that was so wrong? These students all had the same teacher, the same Rebbe. They all learned the same lessons, heard the same lectures, had the same notes. So each one felt there was no reason to honor his peer. After all, what did one talmid have that his colleague didn’t? His friend had Torah, but he had the same Torah, the same notes, the same teacher. So, why honor him? Why should he honor any of the other talmidim? This was their sin. “Shelo nahagu kavod zeh l’zeh – They did not practice honor one with another.” They all had the same reasoning. Why should one honor the other when all have the same thing?

However, this is a very crucial mistake in the concept of kavod HaTorah, honoring the Torah. When we honor a talmid chochom, we are not honoring the man himself. We are honoring the Torah that is contained within him. A person that has Torah contains a chelek, a part of Hashem.

We can learn this concept from the posuk, “Ozvei Hashem yichlu – Those who forsake Hashem will be destroyed.” The Gemora in Brachos [8a] interprets the posuk. “Who forsakes Hashem? Zeh hamaniach Sefer Torah v’yatza – This is someone who walks out of Shul during the reading of the Torah.” This person is called an ‘ozav Hashem.’ We see from this that the Gemora equates the Torah with Hashem, for one who walks out during leining is considered as if he is walking out on Hashem. Hashem and Torah are one. Now we can go on to understand the posuk, “U’vo sid’bikun – And you should cleave to Him.”

In the merit of the honor we give to Hashem, His Torah, and His Torah scholars, may we be blessed with long life good health and much Torah success.

To be continued next week