Yesterday, as the winds picked up in Jerusalem, I found myself thinking about the fires of Lag BaOmer.

Strong winds make bonfires unsafe. Authorities warn. Restrictions are discussed. And yet, the fires are lit, and the crowds gather—undeterred by the wind, the cold, or the risk.

A few years ago, Meron became the site of one of the worst civilian disasters in Israel’s history. Forty-five people lost their lives in a crush that should never have happened.

For a brief moment, there was silence. Shock. Reflection.

And then, the following year, the crowds came back.

This year, Meron was shut down due to real security threats, including the risk from Hezbollah. And still, the question remains—what is it that draws us so powerfully to this fire?

And this year, despite security concerns and clear risks, the same pattern repeats.

People push forward. They insist. They find a way.

And it is not only Meron.

Every year, tens of thousands also travel to Uman for Rosh Hashanah—crowded flights, difficult conditions, real inconvenience, sometimes risk.

Two different places. Two different times.

But the same question:

What are we really running towards?

On the surface, the answer is obvious.

Two towering spiritual figures.

Meron—Rabbi Shimon Bar Yochai, the mystic of fire and revelation, whose teachings opened the deepest layers of Torah.Uman—Rabbi Nachman of Breslov, the master of inner struggle and healing, who spoke to the broken soul searching for תיקון and meaning.

But that answer is too simple.

Because what we are witnessing is not just reverence. It is........

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