You're late, Mr. Pope, you're late!

Haredim 10
May 26, 2014   
If you've already come, it would have been good if you had come a week ago and seen with your own eyes the tens of thousands of Jews who come with devotion and love to visit the grave of Rabbi Shimon.
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The Aralians conquered the cliffs.

The protest stones and tires that were placed and thrown at the entrance to the City of David were replaced by a long red carpet that was rolled out in his honor. Long - as long as the exile. He has arrived and he is already here. Once again, Christianity is imposing itself on Judaism, only this time through diplomatic means.

There are no dark cellars of a dark Inquisition here, no mass deportation or the burning of synagogues and Talmud books, nor a malicious blood libel full of venom and hatred. There is something else here. More infuriating. Much more infuriating.

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Francis, the 266th in the line of popes, emerges from the Vatican walls facing Jerusalem. It is somewhat reminiscent of the biblical stories of Sennacherib or Titus's ascent to conquer the Holy Land. Only this time they did not sharpen swords or bolt the city walls. On the contrary, the gates were opened and swords were raised towards the guards of the walls.

Further proof of our discovery on our home turf.

Few days have passed since the warming and radiant fire of the Tanna Rabbi Shimon bar Yochai burned in our bones. A fire whose embers will continue to light the darkness of exile until the next Lag BaOmer. Until the complete redemption. The first of their sons.

Tens of thousands of Jews - from Israel and abroad - put aside the weariness of life and went to visit the holy site of Tanna. Every year the story repeats itself. Every year, thousands return to visit the site with longing, with a passion for the holy man of God, for his books and his work.

For thirteen years he hid in a distant cave out of fear of the Romans, who then ruled the Holy Land with a high hand. Thirteen years of eating carobs and studying Torah without stopping.

It all started when he was arguing with his friends, when he claimed that everything the Romans did, built, and repaired, they did only for themselves. He was not afraid to tell the truth.

Nearly 2,000 years have passed since then. Hundreds of generations of Jews rise on the day of his passing to light the fire that burned in him during his life and burned even more in his death.

Now, just days after tens of thousands of Israelis once again came to show their longing for the eternal teachings of Rabbi Shimon, a descendant of those Romans - because of whom Rashbi fled to a cave and hid for 13 years - is arriving in the Holy Land.

No red carpet, no trumpets, no flag-waving, no smiles, nothing from the ceremony full of flattery came even a thousandth of a percent closer to the respect and honor that the people of Israel felt for the one who enlightened the world, not a year or a decade ago, but nearly 2,000 years ago.

And now, Franz, come and tell me what happened to your ancestors? How many of your people go up every year to the tombs of the 265 popes who preceded you?

If you've already come, it would have been good if you had arrived a week ago and seen with your own eyes the tens of thousands of Jews - those whom your ancestors persecuted to the point of terror - ascending with devotion and love to visit the grave of Rabbi Shimon - the one whose life your ancestors sought.

But you didn't come, Franzi, you didn't come.

You're late!


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