The only effective way to change other people is to begin with ourselves
The 33rd day of the Omer Count is a special day in the Jewish calendar. It is known as Lag BaOmer, the day that marks the passing of the great Talmudic sage and mystic, Rabbi Shimon Bar Yochai. This second century rabbi and kabbalist requested that the day of his passing should be marked with happiness and celebration.
One of the many Lag BaOmer traditions is for children to go on outings and play with bows and arrows. Among the many reasons for this custom is one that has an important life lesson.
To use a bow and arrow effectively, the shooter must first pull the bow towards himself. Once the bow is pulled as far back as possible, the arrow can be released with significant force and hopefully meets its target quickly and accurately.
The lesson here is simple but powerful. In order to conquer and affect the world around us we must first move inwards. When we look deeply into our own soul, realizing the amazing potential that we possess, only then can we influence others.
The Rebbe of Kotzk once said: “When I was younger I thought I would change the world. I then decided that I would work on my city, and later concentrated just on my family. But now I have decided just to try and change myself.” I do not believe the Kotzker Rebbe meant that he would work only on himself and ignore others. After all, he led a big community and was responsible for thousands of followers. What he was saying is that the only effective way to change other people is to begin with ourselves.
Improving our own character and personality is within our control. We choose to progress or stagnate, to become angry or stay calm, to give or to hold back. We cannot control other people, but we can influence them by moving inwards. Changing ourselves will change others.
Yesterday was Lag B’omer, the day on which Rabbi Akiva’s students stopped dying.
It is generally accepted that they died because they didn’t conduct themselves with enough respect for each other.
But how could that possibly be? Weren’t they the students of Rabbi Akiva, who’s main idea and focus was ahavas Yisroel, loving one’s fellow Jew? And these guys were killed in a mass plague because they couldn’t get along with each other?
In a sicha from the Lubavitcher Rebbe, of blessed memory, he clears up this seeming contrariety.
Everyone experiences and interprets the world a little bit differently. Everyone has their own perception and version of the truth. A lot of the time, multiple perspectives are equally valid.
This idea regularly comes up with regards to Torah and mitzvos. Which conveniently brings us back to Rabbi Akiva’s students.
Each student interpreted his teachings in a slightly different, entirely legitimate way. Each student thought that his way was the most correct and — surprise! — this led to some major disagreements. Sound familiar?
But the Rebbe brings to light why things got so out of hand. It wasn’t a matter of ego, but rather, a matter of love.
If my friend does something wrong, or holds views that are different from my own, I care, of course, but it doesn’t pain me as much as if my sibling did the same thing.
And why? Because my friends are not related to me by blood. They have different parents and different upbringings and can do whatever they want. But because I love my siblings so, so much, because I believe we should have shared, familial values, it pains me when they do things differently.
And that’s how Rabbi Akiva’s students felt towards each other. They loved each others like family, because they acutely felt that all Jews are of one kin. And because each man had such strong ahavas Yisroel, he couldn’t stand the thought of another Jew doing something wrong, or even something less than right.
And so they fought and argued. They aimed to bring their teacher’s teachings to fruition, but managed to achieve the exact opposite.
Because, whenever any emotion, even a positive one like love, is entirely unbridled, it makes a mess. To say the very least.
Their loving each other like brothers was a good thing. Their wanting each other to do it right was also a good thing.
But even with our literal, blood-related siblings, when our love turns into fighting and disagreements, it’s no longer positive.
It’s important to care about, and to want the best for, both our brothers and our brethren. We should be as pained when our friend does wrong, as when our sibling does the same.
But sometimes more than one derech is acceptable and our parents and Hashem would probably both prefer peace and unity, even if it means relying on different interpretations and serving Hashem in different ways.
Yesterday was Lag B’omer, the day on which Rabbi Akiva’s students stopped dying.
It is generally accepted that they died because they didn’t conduct themselves with enough respect for each other.
But how could that possibly be? Weren’t they the students of Rabbi Akiva, who’s main idea and focus was ahavas Yisroel, loving one’s fellow Jew? And these guys were killed in a mass plague because they couldn’t get along with each other?
In a sicha from the Lubavitcher Rebbe, of blessed memory, he clears up this seeming contrariety.
Everyone experiences and interprets the world a little bit differently. Everyone has their own perception and version of the truth. A lot of the time, multiple perspectives are equally valid.
This idea regularly comes up with regards to Torah and mitzvos. Which conveniently brings us back to Rabbi Akiva’s students.
Each student interpreted his teachings in a slightly different, entirely legitimate way. Each student thought that his way was the most correct and — surprise! — this led to some major disagreements. Sound familiar?
But the Rebbe brings to light why things got so out of hand. It wasn’t a matter of ego, but rather, a matter of love.
If my friend does something wrong, or holds views that are different from my own, I care, of course, but it doesn’t pain me as much as if my sibling did the same thing.
And why? Because my friends are not related to me by blood. They have different parents and different upbringings and can do whatever they want. But because I love my siblings so, so much, because I believe we should have shared, familial values, it pains me when they do things differently.
And that’s how Rabbi Akiva’s students felt towards each other. They loved each others like family, because they acutely felt that all Jews are of one kin. And because each man had such strong ahavas Yisroel, he couldn’t stand the thought of another Jew doing something wrong, or even something less than right.
And so they fought and argued. They aimed to bring their teacher’s teachings to fruition, but managed to achieve the exact opposite.
Because, whenever any emotion, even a positive one like love, is entirely unbridled, it makes a mess. To say the very least.
Their loving each other like brothers was a good thing. Their wanting each other to do it right was also a good thing.
But even with our literal, blood-related siblings, when our love turns into fighting and disagreements, it’s no longer positive.
It’s important to care about, and to want the best for, both our brothers and our brethren. We should be as pained when our friend does wrong, as when our sibling does the same.
But sometimes more than one derech is acceptable and our parents and Hashem would probably both prefer peace and unity, even if it means relying on different interpretations and serving Hashem in different ways.
It’s 1.30AM: my 3-y/o son just woke up, saying he wants to get out of bed “lekuved Shavuos”.
Maybe someone should tell him he’s a few days late xD
Again he didn’t want to go to sleep…
Only this time, he took his stuffed puppy, stood up and put the stuffed animal on his shoulders holding it by its legs… saying: “פאפי , גיב אכטונג” (puppy, be careful).
And he started singing “לכבוווווד התנאאא האלוקי” (lechuveeed haTanaaa haEloikai) swinging back and forth, “רבי שמעון בר יוחאי!” (Rabbi Shimon bar Yochai).
As this post goes up I’m in the bus with my friends on our way to Meron. In the zchus of Rebbi Shimon Bar Yochai all of my followers and ganz Klal Yisroel should have only good and see all their yeshuos this very year!
No more pain, no suffering, only happiness- good fortunes, health, shidduchim, Yiddishe simches, nachas, hatslocho, parnosa, yeshuos, geulos and may we all see Moshiach Tzidkeinu very soon; not lighting the hadlukeh in Meron, but dancing together with Rebbi Shimon bar Yochai and thousands of other Yidden… What a sight that would be!
