By Rabbi Dan Lewin
Parashat Va’etchanan
“There is nothing new under the sun,” King Solomon famously wrote. Throughout history, we often see patterns repeat themselves. Empires rise and fall. Nations experience moments of greatness and moments of decline. The Jewish people, perhaps more than any other nation, have witnessed this pattern unfold across thousands of years — destruction and renewal, exile and return, darkness followed by unexpected light.
As we reflect upon Tisha B’Av, the day on which we mourn the destruction of the Temples and the tragedies that befell our people throughout history, these patterns become especially meaningful.
For the Jewish people, Rome represents one of the greatest examples of destruction and exile. The Romans destroyed the Second Temple in 70 CE, bringing immense suffering upon our nation. In the decades that followed, Jewish observance itself was threatened. It became dangerous even to perform a brit milah. For his commitment to Torah, Rabbi Akiva, together with many of the greatest sages of his generation, suffered a brutally painful death at the hands of the Romans.
Yet Rabbi Akiva possessed a unique ability: he could see redemption even within destruction.
The Talmud relates that Rabbi Akiva once stood together with several sages on the site of the destroyed Temple. When they saw a fox running through the ruins of the Holy of Holies, the other sages began to cry. Seeing such a holy place reduced to such devastation was unbearable. Rabbi Akiva, however, laughed.
When asked how he could respond this way, he explained that the prophecies of destruction had been fulfilled. If the negative prophecies had come true with such precision and intensity, then the positive prophecies of redemption were not merely a distant hope — they had already begun to unfold. The same Divine plan that allowed destruction to reach such an extreme would ultimately bring redemption with an equally extraordinary measure of blessing.
An unlikely friendship
Only a few decades later, the scene had changed dramatically.
The Roman emperor Antoninus leaves his royal palace. He does not arrive with a public procession or surrounded by soldiers. Instead, he secretly makes his way through an underground passage leading directly to the home of the greatest Jewish sage of the generation.
There, hidden from the eyes of Rome, the emperor meets with a rabbi. He has not come to threaten. He has come to learn. He seeks the rabbi’s advice on matters of state and asks deep questions about Torah and G-dliness. Their conversations become so significant that they develop a secret code, disguising sensitive matters through subtle words and gestures.
Over time, their relationship deepens. The emperor sends gifts daily, visits him and engages him in profound discussions about G-d and Torah. Many of these fascinating exchanges are preserved in the Talmud.
Who was this rabbi?
Rabbi Yehudah HaNasi — known throughout the Talmud simply as Rebbi, and also called Rabbeinu HaKadosh, “our holy teacher.”
According to tradition, Rebbi was born on the very day Rabbi Akiva was martyred by the Romans. As one great leader of Israel departed from the world, another was beginning his mission.
The title Nasi refers to his role as head of the Sanhedrin, the highest rabbinical court of ancient Israel. But Rebbi was not merely a leader of his generation. He was one of the rare individuals whose decisions fundamentally changed the course of Jewish history.
The Rambam, in his introduction to the Talmud, describes Rebbi’s greatness in extraordinary terms. He portrays a person who combined unparalleled Torah scholarship with humility, piety, eloquence, leadership and even the material resources to support Torah and those who pursued it. The Sages declared, “From the days of Moses until Rebbi, we did not see Torah and greatness united in one place.”
Yet despite all of these extraordinary qualities, Rebbi’s greatest contribution was not his scholarship, his wealth or even his relationship with the Roman emperor. It was one decision that would preserve Jewish life for thousands of years.
But what was Rebbi preserving?
The oral transmission
The Torah given at Mount Sinai consists of two inseparable parts: the Written Torah and the Oral Torah.
The Written Torah contains the text of Scripture. The Oral Torah explains its meaning and teaches how its commandments are practiced.
Without the Oral Torah, the Written Torah would remain largely incomprehensible.
The Written Torah has become one of the most widely distributed texts in human history, translated into countless languages and studied throughout the world. The Oral Torah, however, remained the unique inheritance of the Jewish people, transmitted from teacher to student since Sinai. So while the Jewish people are often called the People of the Book, we are, in many ways, even more uniquely the people of the Oral Torah.
For more than a thousand years, this tradition remained, as its name suggests, an oral transmission from generation to generation. It was intended to remain a living relationship between teacher and student — dynamic, personal and constantly engaged.
But after the destruction of the Second Temple, the world changed forever. Jewish institutions were destroyed, communities were uprooted and the Jewish people were scattered. Teachers and students became separated by oceans and borders. The traditional method of transmitting the Oral Torah could no longer be taken for granted.
Rebbi recognized the danger. If the Oral Torah remained dependent solely upon memory and direct transmission, essential teachings could eventually be forgotten.
A monumental undertaking
During a brief period of relative stability, Rebbi took upon himself an unprecedented responsibility. He gathered the teachings, traditions, legal discussions and conclusions preserved by generations of sages and organized them into a structured work known as the Mishnah.
The Mishnah became the foundation upon which the Talmud was built and the framework through which Jewish law and Torah study would continue for generations. But it was far more than a response to a historical crisis. Our Sages reveal something much deeper.
The Midrash (“Vayikra Rabbah” 7:3) makes a remarkable statement:
“All these exiles will only be gathered in the merit of Mishnayos.”
This raises a profound question: Why specifically Mishnah? The Written Torah is the foundation of Jewish faith. The Gemara represents generations of brilliant analysis and discussion. What is it about Mishnah that connects it so uniquely to redemption? To answer this, we must first understand the deeper meaning of exile itself.
The qualities of exile
We often think of exile primarily as a physical reality — the Jewish people removed from their land and scattered throughout the world. But the Maharal of Prague explains that exile represents something deeper. Exile is a state of dispersion, fragmentation and disorder — of what was once united becoming separated.
The Mishnah represents the opposite reality. Before Rebbi compiled it, the Oral Torah consisted of generations of teachings, traditions, discussions and explanations of laws relating to agriculture, holidays, damages, marriage, civil matters, sacrifices, purity, and countless other areas of Jewish life.
Imagine attempting to gather thousands of years of wisdom without computers, databases or modern tools of organization. Rebbi took this vast body of Torah and created structure and order. He arranged it into six orders and sixty-three tractates, creating a framework through which future generations could continue accessing the wisdom of Torah.
This is why Mishnah is connected to redemption. Redemption represents the restoration of unity, order and connection. The Mishnah created order within Torah itself. And when Torah becomes gathered and connected, the Jewish people themselves can ultimately become gathered and connected.
But there is an even deeper dimension.
Never abandoned
The pain of exile is not only that the Jewish people are scattered. It is also that G-d’s presence appears concealed. The Temple — the place where the Divine Presence was openly revealed — no longer stands. Yet the esoteric teachings of Chassidus teach a remarkable truth: the Shechinah never abandoned the Jewish people. Our Sages teach, “When they were exiled to Edom, the Shechinah went with them.”
This reflects a general mystical principle: no matter where the Jewish people go, even into the lowest realms, the Divine Presence remains attached to them. The challenge is not creating the connection but revealing and strengthening our awareness of a connection that already exists.
The Mishnah plays a unique role in this process because, through its study — which demands understanding and verbalization — a person internalizes the holiness within Torah more deeply than through reading Scripture alone.
To be sure, every area of Torah reveals Divine wisdom and affects the person studying it in a different way. Scripture contains the revealed word of G-d. Gemara represents generations of brilliant analysis, where sages engage in detailed discussion, debate and intellectual exploration. As such, the underlying unity is not always immediately apparent. Mishnah, however, takes the transmitted tradition from the source and presents the laws of Torah in a clear, concise and carefully ordered form. Therefore, through the study of Mishnah, a person encounters the underlying unity of Torah — and that unity reflects the very nature of redemption.
But redemption is greater than restoring unity, gathering the Jewish people, or revealing the Shechinah. The ultimate purpose of exile is to transform the world itself.
Transforming the world
The Jewish people were scattered across the globe not only to survive spiritually, but to bring holiness into every corner of creation. This is another way Mishnah plays a unique role. As the foundation of practical halachah, the Mishnah addresses the details of everyday existence: business dealings, relationships, marriage and divorce, damages, agriculture, purity and countless other areas of human life.
Through these laws, ordinary physical existence becomes connected to G-d’s will. The physical world itself becomes refined and elevated. Redemption is the moment when the hidden G-dliness within creation becomes fully revealed.
Perhaps this explains why Mishnah has become such a constant companion throughout Jewish history. We study Mishnah on a yahrzeit. Communities divide tractates among themselves in memory of loved ones. Mishnah is often studied before Kaddish. Children begin learning Mishnah from a young age. Generations of Jews have reviewed Mishnah wherever they found themselves — even while walking.
Every summer, many communities study Pirkei Avot, one of the most beloved sections of Mishnah, reflecting on the wisdom and values passed down through generations.
When we study Mishnah, therefore, we are doing far more than engaging in personal spiritual growth. We are participating in the timeless mission of refining creation and bringing the world closer to the ultimate redemption.
Seeing redemption in exile
During the days when we remember the destruction of the Temple, Rabbi Akiva’s vision remains a message for all generations.
The exile is real. The darkness is real. But hidden within that darkness is the beginning of redemption.
Every word of Torah studied, every mitzvah performed and every aspect of the world refined brings us closer to the day when what Rabbi Akiva saw with the eyes of faith will become visible to all.
Rabbi Dan Lewin is director of the nonprofit Maayan Chai Foundation. For information, visit maayan-chai.org.