Rabi Chanina ben Chachinai

To our friends scattered abroad: Sit shivah, rend your garments, families of the kehunah, for we have lost the sgan to the Kohanim, the deputy Kohein Gadol, Rabi Chanina.

Ah, how could the impure one lay a hand on the Heavenly servant who fasted regularly from the age of ten to 95?

On Erev Shabbos, Caesar decreed his death. His disciples said to him, “Rabi, will you eat something before you die?”

Rabi Chanina said to them, “For eighty-five years I have fasted and not eaten and not drunk, and now, when I don’t know which path I will follow, you ask me to eat and drink?”

While ascending the scaffold, he began reciting Friday Night Kiddush. “Vayechulu haShamayim” — and when he reached the words “vayekadeish oso,” the Romans didn’t let him finish the brachah and killed him.

A Bas Kol came from the Heavens and said, “Happy are you, Rabi Chanina ben Chachinai, who was kadosh and whose soul left him on the word ‘vayekadesh.’”

Rabi Akiva ben Yosef

Lament and shed tears for the generations, for the head and rabbi of Yisrael, Akiva ben Yosef has been killed — he who studied the crowns of letters and revealed aspects of the Torah not known since it was transmitted to Moshe at Sinai. A descendant of geirim, from the line of Sisera, who rose to greatness.

And he did as his wife wished, and at 40 threw himself at the feet of Rabi Eliezer and Rabi Yehoshua. A treasury of Torah and wisdom, a tireless scholar, who never asked to leave the beis medrash. His heart was wide as the entrance to the Beis Hamikdash, he was as worthy of giving the Torah as Moshe. He walked into the Orchard and uncovered the secrets of the Torah, delving into the Work of the Chariot. And when the ministering angels wished to harm him, HaKadosh Baruch Hu called to them, “Let him go, for he is worthy of using my honor.”

Caesar ordered for him to be brought forth and for his skin to be raked with metal combs.

Rabi Akiva could have driven off his tormentors with the power of his kedushah, but rather chose to die in a kiddush Hashem, telling his disciples, “All my days I have grieved over the verse, “V’ahavta es Hashem b’chol nafshecha — And you shall love Hashem with your entire soul.” When would I ever merit to fulfill it? And now that I have that opportunity, shall I not rejoice? For how could I ever say that I love Him with all my soul when I had the opportunity and rejected it?”

And with every rake of the comb, Rabi Akiva justified his suffering, “Righteous is Hashem — the Rock, perfect is His work, for all His paths are justice. A G-d of faith without iniquity, righteous and fair is He.” And they continued torturing him with whips and other torments.

And when the time came for Krias Shema, he called out, “Hashem Elokeinu Hashem echad,” lingering on “echad,” until his soul left him. A Bas Kol came forth and said, “Happy are you, Akiva, that your soul departed on ‘echad.’ Happy are you, Akiva, who were righteous and just, and your soul departed with the words justice and honesty.”

And Eliyahu Hanavi approached and took Rabi Akiva on his shoulder and carried him five parasangs, until he met Yehoshua Hagarsi. Asked Yehoshua, “Are you not a Kohein?” Eliyahu answered, “There is no tumah in the righteous.”

And the path before them was illuminated like the radiance of the sky, and when they arrived at the imperial mansion in Caesarea, they descended three steps and ascended three steps, and a cave opened before them in which there was a bed, a chair, and a menorah.

They laid out the holy body on the bed, the menorah lit itself and illuminated the cave.

And Eliyahu began and said, “Happy are you, the righteous, and happy are you, learners of the Torah. Happy are you, Akiva, who have found your abode and set the table.” And he was taken to Yeshivah shel Maalah, and all the souls of the righteous and the pious gathered around to hear his Torah.

Rav Yehuda ben Bava

My brothers, darkness has fallen on Judea with the fall of the gadol hador Rabi Yehuda ben Bava, a man of great piety whose actions were all for the sake of Heaven, and who had no concern but for the Torah and its learners. Rabbeinu, who would sell his household utilities and all his possessions to feed talmidei chachamim. And when he found a student worthy of instruction, he would sit and learn with him night and day and never rest until he was ordained as a rabbi and teacher.

All his days he sat and learned and never departed from his studies, and he was modest beyond all bounds — he called his own disciples “rabi,” and greeted kindly everyone he met — no one surpassed him in this quality.

He merited to be a close friend of Rabi Akiva, and he didn’t get a full night’s sleep from the age of 18 to 80. He never knew the taste of sin, and never called the impure pure or the pure impure. And there was not one man in the beis medrash for whom he was not a light, and he fasted for 26 years, and his friends never failed in a matter of halachah because of him, and he delighted in them and taught his students night and day.

And since it was decreed that ordaining chachamim would be punished by the death of the one who ordains and the ordained, and the destruction of the city where the ordination took place, many feared that the Torah would be forgotten.

Rabi Yehuda ben Bava saw that five of his students were ready for ordination: Rabi Meir, Rabi Yehuda, Rabi Yosi, Rabi Shimon, and Rabi Elazar ben Shamua. Rabi Yehuda gathered them and led them outside the city, between Usha and Shefaram. He sat on a rock between two great mountains, outside the city’s jurisdiction. And he laid his hands on the heads of his disciples and ordained them, saying, “Go lead the flock of the neglected people, and fight for its inheritance and its remedy, for G-d is wrathful at us, for we have abandoned Him and His Torah.”

And the five disciples responded enthusiastically, “We are your sons and the sons of the Makom.”

As they stood, the Romans came upon them. The aged rabbi cried to his students, saying, “Run, my sons, and save yourselves!”

And they said to him, “Rabbeinu, what will happen to you? For you are old and can barely walk.”

Rabi Yehuda said to the Romans, “Here I am, a useless item.”

The five disciples succeeded in escaping, and the Romans pierced Rabi Yehuda with 500 spears until his body was like a sieve, and they brought him, wounded, before Caesar.

That day Rabi Yehuda was 70 years old, and it was a Thursday and he was fasting. An elder by the name of Reuven ben Itzrobul came and said to Rabi Yehuda, “My master, I know that you are totally righteous, but what should I do that the evil kingdom has dared to seize our most precious gems? Perhaps you desire for me to die in your place so you can be saved?”

Rabi Yehuda said to him, “Rabi Reuven, my brother, if we can’t revoke human decrees, who can revoke the decree of Heaven?”

And the Romans came to put him to death on Erev Shabbos. And he pleaded with them, “Give me a little time to fulfill one mitzvah that my Creator has commanded me.”

The emperor said to him, “Then you still believe in Hashem?”

He said, “Yes! And the King of Kings put us in your hands to avenge our deaths on you.”

The emperor said to him, “How brazen you are, to be on the threshold of death and still speak brazenly.”

Rabi Yehuda said to him, “Woe to you, Caesar, rasha ben rasha, for He has seen the ruin of His house and the murder of His sons and has reserved His vengeance!”

Rabi Yehuda’s disciples whispered to him, “You should have abased yourself before him.”

And he answered them, “Have you not learned that whoever bows down to evil is destined to fall into its hands?”

Rabi Yehuda turned to the emperor and said, “By your life, Caesar, wait for me to fulfill one mitzvah, called Shabbos, which is a foretaste of the World to Come.”

Caesar assented.

Immediately, Rabi Yehuda stood up and began sanctifying the Shabbos. He began to say, “Vayechulu haShamayim v’haaretz,” and he spoke it in a loud and sonorous voice, and everyone was surprised. And when he arrived at the words, “bara Elokim laasos,” Caesar gave the word for his death. His soul departed at the word Elokim. A Bas Kol came forth saying, “Happy are you, Yehuda. Yehuda, my servant, who will live forever. For your body is pure and your soul departed in purity.”

And Caesar ordered for his body to be cut up and thrown to the dogs, with neither eulogy nor burial.

Rabi Chanina ben Tradyon

My brothers in exile,

Abandon comfort and cast off your pleasures, wear ashes and sackcloth, for Hashem has taken our great rabbi: Rabi Chanina ben Tradyon.

Oh for us, and woe to our children for the loss of our great rabbi who was equally pleasant before HaKadosh Baruch Hu and his fellow men, and who never let a curse cross his lips. He was righteous and honest before G-d and man, and never once did a penny of tzedakah rest in his hands.

A few weeks ago, Rabi Yosi ben Kisma took ill, and Rabi Chanina ben Tradyon went to visit him. Said Rabi Yosi to Rabi Chanina, “Why do you assemble crowds in public with a sefer Torah in your lap? Don’t you know that this nation [the Romans] has been given power from above? For they have ruined His house and burned His hall and slaughtered His servants, yet still they rule.”

Rabi Chanina answered, “Heaven will have mercy.”

Rabi Yosi heard this and replied, “I speak to you reasonably and all you can say is, ‘Heaven will have mercy?’ I wonder if you and your sefer Torah won’t be burned together….”

Rabi Chanina said to him, “Rabi, where am I destined in the World to Come?”

Answered Rabi Yosi, “Is there no good deed that you have done?”

He answered, “One Purim, money of my own got mixed up with donations I collected for the poor, and I distributed the entire sum to the poor.”

Rabi Yosi said, “In that case, your lot will be mine, and your fate will be my fate.”

A few days passed and Rabi Yosi ben Kisma passed away, and all the dignitaries of Rome went to bury him and eulogized him with tears, and on their way back they found Rabi Chanina ben Tradyon sitting in the marketplace publicly expounding the Torah with a sefer Torah in his lap.

“Chanina,” they said to him, “you are condemned to death by burning.”

He answered: “HaTzur tamim pa’alo — The Rock! Perfect is His work.”

And on a bitter day, on the 21st of Sivan, they led Rabi Chanina to the stake. Caesar asked Rabi Chanina, “Why did you study the Torah?”

Rabi Chanina answered him simply, “Because my G-d commanded me to.”

They immediately condemned him to death by fire, his wife to death, and his daughter to an evil life. When his wife was taken to be killed, she said, “Keil emunah v’ein avel — a G-d of faith without iniquity.” And when his daughter was condemned she said, “Gadol ha’eitzah v’rav ha’alilah — Great in council and mighty in deed.”

They brought out ben Tradyon and wrapped him in a Torah scroll and all around him they put branches. And such was their cruelty that they placed sponges of wool soaked with water on his heart, to prolong his agonies.

Rabi Chanina’s daughter saw him suffer and cried out, “How can I see you like this?”

Her father comforted her, saying, “If I were burned alone, it would indeed be hard. But I’m being burned with a sefer Torah, and He who avenges the Torah’s injury will avenge my injury, too.”

His disciples gathered around the stake and wished to hear his last words. They asked, “Rabi, what do you see?”

He answered, “The scroll burns, and the letters fly upward.”

His disciples cried to him, “Open your mouth so the fire can enter you and you will die and not suffer.”

He answered them from among the flames, “He Who gave me my soul will take it, too.”

Suddenly the executioner noticed that the fire was receding from Rabi Chanina and had no power over him. He was shocked and cried to Rabi Chanina: “Truly you are a wonder! How comes it that fire has no power over you?”

Rabi Chanina said, “Wait a minute, while I confirm that you are indeed the envoys appointed to take my soul.”

Rabi Chanina passed his hand over his face and then said to the executioner, “Come and finish your work with me.”

The Roman said to himself, “Behold this people who decree their own death or life — how am I not one of them?” He quickly asked the rabbi, now covered in flames, “Rabi, if I add fuel to the fire and remove the wool from your heart, will I have a share in the World to Come?”

Rabi Chanina said yes. The Roman asked him to swear it, and he swore it.

And when Rabi Chanina died, the executioner jumped into the fire and cried in a terrible voice, “Your G-d is my G-d, where you die, I shall die, and there will I be buried.”

A Bas Kol came forth and declared, “Ben Tradyon and the executioner are both my servants and they are invited to life in the World to Come.”

Rabi Chutzpis the Interpreter

Cry out from the broken fragments of your hearts, for the house of our G-d has been ruined with the death of Rabi Chutzpis the Interpreter.

Woe to us for having seen this day, woe to us for this infliction of Caesar.

How could the murderer dare raise his hands against the elder of our generation? How did the knife not shatter in the light of Rabi Chutzpis’s radiant face?

We have lost the elder of our generation, the copier of lore and the transmitter of tradition. A majestic old man, with a beautiful face like an angel of Hashem’s host. And just as he preserved the beauty of his youth, so it was with his intelligence — he was always wiser and more discerning than his fellows at any age. Of him, Rabi Akiva said, “More beautiful than mortals, grace is poured upon your lips. One of the greatest men in the days of Rabi Eliezer and Rabi Yehoshua.”

Rabi Chutzpis, who when he stood and expounded on the Torah, his sonorous voice would draw in all hearts, was compared to Yonasan ben Uziel, and they said of him that he studied 180 aspects in Toras Kohanim, and he could make a case that the pure was impure and that the impure was pure. And he was fluent in 70 languages, and no knowledge was hidden from him.

And when the decree of the Romans came out to eliminate every mesivta rabbi, we thought they would make an exception for this old man, in whom there was no fault. But Caesar had no mercy on Rabi Chutzpis and summoned our aged rabbi to be killed.

And because he was 130 years of age and of beautiful aspect, some told Caesar of his beauty and age and said to him, “By your life, master, have mercy on this elder.”

The Caesar wished to speak to the rabbi, and said to him, “How old are you?”

Rabi Chutzpis replied: “One hundred thirty years short one day, and I request that you let me live out the year.”

Caesar, surprised, asked, “What difference does it make if you die today or tomorrow?”

Rabi Chutzpis told him, “So that I may fulfill two more mitzvos.”

Caesar asked which mitzvos, and Rabi Chutzpis told him, “Krias Shema of the evening and morning, to crown the name of the Great and Terrible and Unique one.”

Caesar heard this and exploded with rage, “Most brazen of men, how long will you trust in your G-d Who lacks the power to save you from my hands?”

Rabi Chutzpis heard this and wept at the terrible blasphemy against Hashem, and looked the emperor in the eye and said, “Woe to you, Caesar. What will you do on the day when Hashem finally judges Rome and her gods?”

Thousands of disciples had congregated around Rabi Chutzpis, and the emperor commanded that Rabi Chutzpis and his disciples all be killed on the same day.

And they hanged him and stoned him and threw the body in the fields.

Then came the senators and elders of Rome and asked Caesar to grant him burial out of respect for is age. And Caesar acceded to their request. And his disciples hurried to bury him, and eulogized him with many tears.

Rabi Yesheivav the Scribe

My brothers, what are we and what are our lives with the loss of the light of our eyes, the sage equal to Moshe who was Rabi Yesheivav the Scribe.

Evil days are upon us as the Caesar continues his mission of destruction, this time taking the life of our master, Sar HaTorah Rabi Yesheivav the Scribe, who was one of the great sages along with Rabban Gamliel and the last of the chassidim.

Rabi Yesheivav gave away all his property to the poor, and was as great as Moshe in Torah and fear of G-d, and in all but the gift of prophecy.

On the day when Caesar summoned him to be executed, he was 90 years old.

They began dragging him to the place of slaughter, and his disciples followed with terrible tears and boundless love. One of the disciples cried out despairingly: “Rabbeinu, what will become of the Torah when you are gone?”

Rabi Yesheivav said to them, “My sons, the Torah is fated to be forgotten among Israel because the evil kingdom has wickedly plotted to take away our treasures. If only my death could atone for the generation! But I see that there is no street in Rome without corpses and that the evil kingdom is fated to spill the innocent blood of Israel.”

His disciples heard this and broke out in groans of despair. “Rabbeinu, and what about us?”

The rabbi left them his final words as his legacy, “Hold fast to one another and love peace and justice. Maybe there is hope.”

Rabi Yesheivav ascended the platform and faced Caesar, who had come to see the old man lose his life.

Caesar said, “Old man, how old are you?”

Rabi Yesheivav the Scribe answered, “Today I am ninety years old.” And then he added with a direct and knowing look, “And before I left my mother’s womb, HaKadosh Baruch Hu decreed that I and my friends would be delivered into your hands so that He could avenge our blood on you.”

Caesar was disconcerted, wondering if the decree had indeed been passed long before it crossed his mind, and he was only a pawn, and would be punished for the deed.

Caesar said, “You are on the threshold of death, why do you continue preaching?”

Rabi Yesheivav replied, “I am not dying, but rather going to the World to Come.”

Caesar asked him, “There’s another world?”

Rabi Yesheivav said, “Yes! And woe to you! Woe to your shame when He avenges the death of His servants upon you.”

Caesar was furious and ordered him to be killed. Then he added with a laugh, “And do it quickly so I can see the strength and power of this G-d and what He’ll do to me in the World to Come.”

Caesar gave the word and Rabi Yesheivav was thrown into the fire, and he read the Torah from within the fire. And when he reached the words, “Vayomer Hashem el Moshe,” his soul departed.

A Bas Kol came forth and said, “Happy are you, Yesheivav, who left nothing in Moshe’s Torah unfulfilled.”

Caesar ordered his body to be thrown to the dogs.

Rabi Elazar ben Shamua

My brothers in exile,

Rend your garments and wallow in the dirt for the death of Rabi Elazar ben Shamua, an elder well advanced in years, modest and pure.

Oh, Rabi Elazar, who from his earliest days was never heard to speak a word of levity, who never quarreled with anyone verbally or physically. And he was modest and humble and fasted for 80 years.

And his heart was as wide as the entrance to a hall, and students swarmed to him from every direction to learn lessons from his lips. They sat before him in rows six by six, crowding in to hear the word of the living G-d. And he was the teacher of Rabi Yehuda Hanasi.

The day the wicked arrived at the beis medrash was Yom Kippur, and they came in with their impure feet and took him from his chair and tore off the coronet from his head and threw him into prison.

And one charge was brought against him: that he had expounded on the Torah.

That day he had completed 105 years of life. His disciples clustered around their aged and esteemed rabbi on his way to prison and asked him, “Rabbeinu, what do you see?”

Rabi Elazar said, “I see Rabi Yehuda ben Bava and Akiva ben Yosef together, and they are arguing regarding a matter of halachah.”

The students asked, “And who is deciding between them?”

He said, “Rabi Yishmael Kohein Gadol.”

“And who is winning?” they asked.

He said, “Rabi Akiva, because he invested all his strength in the Torah.”

Everyone fell silent, and then the old man added, “My sons, I see also the souls of the tzaddikim purifying themselves in the waters of the Shiloach in order to enter the Yeshivah shel Maalah in purity to hear Rabi Akiva ben Yosef, who is to give a derashah on the topic of the day.”

The time of the execution was on Erev Shabbos, near dark. Rabi Elazar pleaded with his captors, saying, “Let me fulfill the mitzvah of Shabbos,” and immediately he began sanctifying the Shabbos. The rabbi had only reached the words “Asher bara Elokim laasos,” when they beheaded him.

A Bas Kol came forth and said, “Elazar was like an angel of G-d and his soul departed on the word G-d. Happy are you, Rabi Elazar ben Shamua, for you were pure and your soul departed in purity.”

Rabi Yehuda ben Damah

My dear brothers in exile who are wallowing with us in tears and lamentations at the terrible calamity, I bear no good news. A month ago, on Erev Shavuos, Caesar ordered Yehuda ben Damah, the light of our eyes and the wonder of our age, to be taken. Rabi Yehuda pleaded before Caesar, “By your life, wait a little while until I can fulfill the mitzvah of Atzeres, and sanctify the day to honor HaKadosh Baruch Hu Who gave us the Torah.”

Caesar looked at him with contempt, laughed cruelly and said, “There are no greater fools in the world than you who believe in life after death.”

Rabi Yehuda, who saw that his fate was sealed, answered fearlessly, “There are no greater fools in the world than you who deny the living G-d. And woe to you when you see us with Hashem in the light of life while you languish in the depths of Sheol.”

Everyone around was shocked at the way Rabi Yehuda spoke to the great Caesar, but Rabi Yehuda — just as he had always taught — was as brazen as a leopard and mighty as a lion.

Caesar was furious and ordered him to be tied to a horse’s tail by the hair of his head and dragged through the city of Rome, and then be cut to pieces.

We couldn’t bury him from fear of the Romans. Until we saw one elder, who was none other than Eliyahu Hanavi, who gathered Rabi Yehuda’s limbs and buried them in a cave by the river that runs through Rome. And for 30 days, all Rome heard the sound of weeping and lamentation from that cave. They were frightened and told Caesar, so that maybe he would stop the killings out of fear.

Caesar said to them, “Even if the entire world returned to the primordial chaos, I won’t rest until I’ve poured out my wrath on the ten elders, as I swore.”

And in the merit of those ten holy ones killed by decree of Heaven, we request Hashem for mercy on this day.

(Originally featured in Family First, Issue 914)