Lag Baomer 2022

It’s 3AM Lag Baomer night, and I just got off the phone with my friends and family in America.

Everyone asked me the same thing.

They all wanted to know if I went to Meron this year.

I told them that I did not; rather I stayed home and celebrated locally. I told them that I spent the evening with my neighbors. That we made a big neighborhood bonfire and had a lovely evening together. That’s what I told them — but I lied.

I didn’t go anywhere this year.

I didn’t party.

I didn’t celebrate.

I stayed home and mourned.

I stayed home and sat with my trauma.

You see — last year I was in Meron, and I’m still traumatized. Traumatized by the horrific deaths of Jews I never had the privilege to meet. Traumatized by the memory of a text message from my friend who was frantically looking for his 13 year old little brother and wanted to know if I was still on location. His 13 year old brother never made it home. He died Lag Baomer night, having been trampled to death. Traumatized by the sight of the ambulances and the body bags and the chaos. But most of all — I’m traumatized by the complete backwardness of it all. 

Jews take on certain customs of mourning during the time between Pesach and Shavuot because in the days of Rabbi Akiva there was a plague this time of the year that killed 24,000 of his students. The Talmud states that this calamity happened because they did not show proper respect to one another. According to some opinions nobody died on Lag Baomer and according to others that was the day the plague actually ceased. Either way, this time of year is a time to focus on respecting others, and Lag Baomer is supposed to be a day of life. Instead, we took the one day of life, infused it with a lack of respect and personal space, and managed to cause so much death, destruction, and pain.

The focus of the weeks between Pesach and Shavuot isn’t supposed to be mourning. It’s not about when you can cut your hair, or when you can and can’t listen to music. We take on these customs because there’s a lesson to be learnt. The lesson is that we need to respect each other. It’s such an important lesson that we mourn for people who died practically 2000 years ago, but why don’t we mourn for people who died last year?

We’re so busy keeping our traditions that we’ve lost touch with their meaning. We’ve lost awareness of how we’re living and what’s going on around us. We’ve lost touch with ourselves.

If it were up to me I’d reverse the tradition. Lag Baomer should be the new day of mourning. Everyone can make bonfires a different night.