The origins behind celebrating the 33rd day of the Omer (Lag Ba’Omer) remain shrouded in mystery. The earliest known reference to the festival comes from an addition made by the 12th-century French rabbi Isaac Dorbolo to the Mahzor Vitry, but it mentions nothing of the holiday’s origins, only that it falls upon the same day of the week as Purim.

Later sources ascribe the festival alternatively to the cessation of a plague that allegedly affected the students of Rabbi Akiba, to a victorious battle in the failed Jewish rebellion against the Romans, to a temporary pause in Jewish persecution by the Roman emperor Hadrian, or to the death of the second-century Mishnaic sage Rabbi Shimon Bar Yochai, who was later credited with authorship of the 13th-century spiritual tome, the Zohar.

The day is traditionally celebrated outdoors, amid bonfires or bows-and-arrows, with the most fervent celebrations taking place near Meron, a town in northern Israel that serves as the alleged site of Rabbi Shimon’s tomb. Throughout Israel and the Diaspora, Lag Ba’Omer serves as a pause in the mourning often associated with the Omer, providing observant Jews with an opportunity to cut their hair, observe celebrations such as weddings, and more.

With its simultaneous homage to a failed rebellion, a plague, and Jewish mysticism, Lag Ba’Omer remains a perplexing holiday for the modern Jew. Perhaps, more than anything, Lag Ba’Omer is about lighting the fires of hope at a time when hope is most needed. When our people struggled to understand why military, medical, and spiritual deliverance eluded them, they created a source of hope—a day to interrupt their grief with the promise of health, freedom, and redemption.

In a week that has witnessed senseless violence in America, in Israel, and abroad; a resurgence in illness across Los Angeles; and a continuous torrent of hateful rhetoric, perhaps we could use a day dedicated to shining the light of hope.

—Rabbi Josh Knobel