When there is no escape, Jewish tradition valorizes the Jew who remains steadfast in the face of imminent death, able to represent the Jewish people and the Jewish G*d with loyalty even in extremis. How is this possible?
Below, three examples of the development of the Jewish concept of Kiddush HaShem, making one's death a sanctification of the Name of G*d.
1. The Shema and Rabbi Akiba from the Babylonian Talmud
״וְאָהַבְתָּ אֵת ה׳ אֱלֹהֶיךָ״. תַּנְיָא, רַבִּי אֱלִיעֶזֶר אוֹמֵר: אִם נֶאֱמַר ״בְּכָל נַפְשְׁךָ״, לָמָּה נֶאֱמַר ״בְּכָל מְאֹדֶךָ״?, וְאִם נֶאֱמַר ״בְּכָל מְאֹדֶךָ״, לָמָּה נֶאֱמַר ״בְּכָל נַפְשְׁךָ״? אֶלָּא אִם יֵשׁ לְךָ אָדָם שֶׁגּוּפוֹ חָבִיב עָלָיו מִמָּמוֹנוֹ — לְכָךְ נֶאֱמַר ״בְּכָל נַפְשְׁךָ״. וְאִם יֵשׁ לָךְ אָדָם שֶׁמָּמוֹנוֹ חָבִיב עָלָיו מִגּוּפוֹ — לְכָךְ נֶאֱמַר ״בְּכָל מְאֹדֶךָ״. רַבִּי עֲקִיבָא אוֹמֵר: ״בְּכָל נַפְשְׁךָ״ אֲפִילּוּ נוֹטֵל אֶת נַפְשְׁךָ.
We learned in our mishna the explanation of the verse: “And you shall love the Lord your God with all your heart and all your soul and all your might” (Deuteronomy 6:5). This was elaborated upon when it was taught in a baraita: Rabbi Eliezer says: If it is stated: “With all your soul,” why does it state: “With all your might”? Conversely, if it stated: “With all your might,” why does it state: “With all your soul”? Rather, this means that if one’s body is dearer to him than his property, therefore it is stated: “With all your soul”; one must give his soul in sanctification of God. And if one’s money is dearer to him than his body, therefore it is stated: “With all your might”; with all your assets. Rabbi Akiva says: “With all your soul” means: Even if God takes your soul.
The first paragraph of the Shema becomes the first step in walking a path toward understanding how one might live, and die, in integrity. Rabbi Eliezer explains how the mitzvah of love of HaShem is not one-size-fits-all but flexes to fit. Rabbi Akiba is now lifted up as an example nonpareil.
תָּנוּ רַבָּנַן: פַּעַם אַחַת גָּזְרָה מַלְכוּת הָרְשָׁעָה שֶׁלֹּא יַעַסְקוּ יִשְׂרָאֵל בַּתּוֹרָה. בָּא פַּפּוּס בֶּן יְהוּדָה וּמְצָאוֹ לְרַבִּי עֲקִיבָא שֶׁהָיָה מַקְהִיל קְהִלּוֹת בָּרַבִּים וְעוֹסֵק בַּתּוֹרָה. אָמַר לוֹ: עֲקִיבָא אִי אַתָּה מִתְיָרֵא מִפְּנֵי מַלְכוּת?
The Gemara relates at length how Rabbi Akiva fulfilled these directives. The Sages taught: One time, after the bar Kokheva rebellion, the evil empire of Rome decreed that Israel may not engage in the study and practice of Torah. Pappos ben Yehuda came and found Rabbi Akiva, who was convening assemblies in public and engaging in Torah study. Pappos said to him: Akiva, are you not afraid of the empire?
אָמַר לוֹ: אֶמְשׁוֹל לְךָ מָשָׁל, לְמָה הַדָּבָר דּוֹמֶה — לְשׁוּעָל שֶׁהָיָה מְהַלֵּךְ עַל גַּב הַנָּהָר, וְרָאָה דָּגִים שֶׁהָיוּ מִתְקַבְּצִים מִמָּקוֹם לְמָקוֹם. אָמַר לָהֶם: מִפְּנֵי מָה אַתֶּם בּוֹרְחִים? אָמְרוּ לוֹ: מִפְּנֵי רְשָׁתוֹת שֶׁמְּבִיאִין עָלֵינוּ בְּנֵי אָדָם. אָמַר לָהֶם: רְצוֹנְכֶם שֶׁתַּעֲלוּ לַיַּבָּשָׁה, וְנָדוּר אֲנִי וְאַתֶּם, כְּשֵׁם שֶׁדָּרוּ אֲבוֹתַי עִם אֲבוֹתֵיכֶם? אָמְרוּ לוֹ: אַתָּה הוּא שֶׁאוֹמְרִים עָלֶיךָ פִּקֵּחַ שֶׁבַּחַיּוֹת?! לֹא פִּקֵּחַ אַתָּה, אֶלָּא טִפֵּשׁ אַתָּה! וּמָה בִּמְקוֹם חִיּוּתֵנוּ, אָנוּ מִתְיָרְאִין, בִּמְקוֹם מִיתָתֵנוּ — עַל אַחַת כַּמָּה וְכַמָּה. אַף אֲנַחְנוּ עַכְשָׁיו שֶׁאָנוּ יוֹשְׁבִים וְעוֹסְקִים בַּתּוֹרָה, שֶׁכָּתוּב בָּהּ: ״כִּי הוּא חַיֶּיךָ וְאֹרֶךְ יָמֶיךָ״, כָּךְ, אִם אָנוּ הוֹלְכִים וּמְבַטְּלִים מִמֶּנָּה — עַל אַחַת כַּמָּה וְכַמָּה!
Rabbi Akiva answered him: I will relate a parable. To what can this be compared? It is like a fox walking along a riverbank when he sees fish gathering and fleeing from place to place. The fox said to them: From what are you fleeing? They said to him: We are fleeing from the nets that people cast upon us. He said to them: Do you wish to come up onto dry land, and we will reside together just as my ancestors resided with your ancestors? The fish said to him: You are the one of whom they say, he is the cleverest of animals? You are not clever; you are a fool. If we are afraid in the water, our natural habitat which gives us life, then in a habitat that causes our death, all the more so. The moral is: So too, we Jews, now that we sit and engage in Torah study, about which it is written: “For that is your life, and the length of your days” (Deuteronomy 30:20), we fear the empire to this extent; if we proceed to sit idle from its study, as its abandonment is the habitat that causes our death, all the more so will we fear the empire.
Note in the above story, the idea of regular study of Torah is offered here not as a way to save one's life but as a way not to fear the empire that is out to kill one, regardless of the fact that it is Torah Study that endangers.
אָמְרוּ: לֹא הָיוּ יָמִים מוּעָטִים, עַד שֶׁתְּפָסוּהוּ לְרַבִּי עֲקִיבָא וַחֲבָשׁוּהוּ בְּבֵית הָאֲסוּרִים, וְתָפְסוּ לְפַפּוּס בֶּן יְהוּדָה וַחֲבָשׁוּהוּ אֶצְלוֹ. אָמַר לוֹ: פַּפּוּס, מִי הֲבִיאֲךָ לְכָאן? אָמַר לוֹ: אַשְׁרֶיךָ רַבִּי עֲקִיבָא שֶׁנִּתְפַּסְתָּ עַל דִּבְרֵי תוֹרָה. אוֹי לוֹ לְפַפּוּס שֶׁנִּתְפַּס עַל דְּבָרִים בְּטֵלִים.
The Sages said: Not a few days passed until they seized Rabbi Akiva and incarcerated him in prison, and seized Pappos ben Yehuda and incarcerated him alongside him. Rabbi Akiva said to him: Pappos, who brought you here? Pappos replied: Happy are you, Rabbi Akiva, for you were arrested on the charge of engaging in Torah study. Woe unto Pappos who was seized on the charge of engaging in idle matters.
Pappos realizes too late that it is better to die for something significant than for "idle matters." As the saying goes, if you have nothing in your life worth dying for, then you actually have nothing in your life worth living for.
בְּשָׁעָה שֶׁהוֹצִיאוּ אֶת רַבִּי עֲקִיבָא לַהֲרִיגָה זְמַן קְרִיאַת שְׁמַע הָיָה, וְהָיוּ סוֹרְקִים אֶת בְּשָׂרוֹ בְּמַסְרְקוֹת שֶׁל בַּרְזֶל, וְהָיָה מְקַבֵּל עָלָיו עוֹל מַלְכוּת שָׁמַיִם. אָמְרוּ לוֹ תַּלְמִידָיו: רַבֵּינוּ, עַד כָּאן?! אָמַר לָהֶם: כׇּל יָמַי הָיִיתִי מִצְטַעֵר עַל פָּסוּק זֶה ״בְּכָל נַפְשְׁךָ״ אֲפִילּוּ נוֹטֵל אֶת נִשְׁמָתְךָ. אָמַרְתִּי: מָתַי יָבֹא לְיָדִי וַאֲקַיְּימֶנּוּ, וְעַכְשָׁיו שֶׁבָּא לְיָדִי, לֹא אֲקַיְּימֶנּוּ? הָיָה מַאֲרִיךְ בְּ״אֶחָד״, עַד שֶׁיָּצְתָה נִשְׁמָתוֹ בְּ״אֶחָד״. יָצְתָה בַּת קוֹל וְאָמְרָה: ״אַשְׁרֶיךָ רַבִּי עֲקִיבָא שֶׁיָּצְאָה נִשְׁמָתְךָ בְּאֶחָד״.
The Gemara relates: When they took Rabbi Akiva out to be executed, it was time for the recitation of Shema. And they were raking his flesh with iron combs, and he was reciting Shema, thereby accepting upon himself the yoke of Heaven. His students said to him: Our teacher, even now, as you suffer, you recite Shema? He said to them: All my days I have been troubled by the verse: With all your soul, meaning: Even if God takes your soul. I said to myself: When will the opportunity be afforded me to fulfill this verse? Now that it has been afforded me, shall I not fulfill it? He prolonged his uttering of the word: One, until his soul left his body as he uttered his final word: One. A voice descended from heaven and said: Happy are you, Rabbi Akiva, that your soul left your body as you uttered: One.
The following is commentary on this Talmudic passage by Eliezer Berkovitz, expanding on the idea of what it means to die a martyr. It is worth noting that the origins of the word "martyr" are understood culturally in the West to be from the Hellenistic Greek μάρτυρ, variant of ancient Greek μαρτυρ-, μάρτυς "witness", according to the OED.
The idea that the martyr’s sacrifice might be the actual fulfillment of his life’s ultimate meaning was clearly expressed by Rabbi Akiva in the hour of his death. He explained to his disciples that the commandment: “You shall love the Eternal your G*d with all your life,” means even if he takes your life. All his days Rabbi Akiva longed for just such an opportunity. To die? Certainly not. The commandment is not to die but to “love the Eternal your God with all your life.”
In order to love with all one’s life one must be in possession of all one’s life. In that ultimate moment Rabbi Akiva lived as he had never lived before, because he acted out of his love for the source of all life as he had never been able to do it before. At such moments people do not think of survival. They are engaged in the fullest realization of living.
The question was often asked in the ghettos and the camps whether the fulfillment of the mitzvah of Kiddush haShem was still available to the Jews. During the Middle Ages the Jew had been given a choice. He could save himself by embracing Christianity or he could choose martyrdom for the sake of God. But during the Holocaust there was no such choice so could one still be sanctifying God’s name by one’s unchosen death? It would seem that even during the Holocaust the situation was not essentially different in this respect. Kiddush haShem is not achieved in death, but in living out the meaning of one’s life at its most intense level as a Jew facing death. The number of Jews who actually achieved this kind of human greatness during the Holocaust is untold.
To be in possession of "all one's life" indicates that a death of this kind is not something that magically occurs regardless of the way one has lived one's life. One's process of dying often brings out aspects of one's existing personality and attitudes, shaped as they are by habit and learning; sincere deathbed conversions are vanishingly rare and really hard to fake.
2. The First Crusade and The Jews of Mainz, from In the Year 1096, Robert Chazan, pp. vii-xii
According to the biblical account, Moses addressed the Israelites on the third day of Sivan and ordered them to prepare for the great event to come. On that very day, more than two millenia (sic) later, Count Emicho and his troops broke through the outer walls of Mainz. However, they needed no military force to do so; the gates to Mainz were opened from within by burghers sympathetic to the crusading cause. So fell the first line of defense. Would the second line of defense--the walls of the archbishop's palace--hold or likewise give way? Once through the city gates, the troops of Count Emicho made directly for the episcopal palace and surrounded it. The Jews sequestered inside prepared themselves to fight and to die.
Exhorted by one of their spiritual leaders, they shouted out the traditional cry of Jewish faith: "Hear O Israel! The Lord is our God, the Lord is one," that also signals the final utterance of pious Jews. As a near-contemporary account recalls,
"They all then drew near to the gate to do battle with the crusaders and with the burghers. They did battle one with another around the gate. Our sins brought it about that the enemy overcame them and captured the gate. The men of the archbishop, who had promised to assist, fled immediately, in order to turn them over to the enemy, for they are splintered reeds."
So fell the second line of defense. Now the bulk of Mainz Jewry, gathered in the courtyard and the chambers of the palace, lay exposed to crusader violence. Although Count Emicho's crusaders and their burgher allies clearly intended to eradicate the Jews of Mainz and other locales, Jews also were presented with an alternative--conversion. In traditional ecclesiastical thinking, a Jew who accepted Christianity took on a new being, which no longer evoked the animus that inspired the attacking crusaders. For the terrified Jews trapped in the archbishop's palace, the options had narrowed to two. Stripped of the archbishop's protection, unsuccessful at self-defense, and barred from flight, these hapless Jews could either accept death or Christianity.
For almost all these beleaguered Jews, the decision was painful but unconflicted. "They all said acceptingly and willingly: Ultimately one must not question the ways of the Holy One blessed be he and blessed be his Name, who gave us his Torah and commanded us to put to death and to kill ourselves for the unity of his holy Name. Blessed are we if we do his will and blessed are all those who are killed and slaughtered and die for the unity of his Name.'"
The Jews thus prepared to meet death did so in diverse ways.
The enemy, immediately upon entering the courtyard, found there some of the perfectly pious with Rabbi Isaac ben R. Moses the subtle thinker. He stretched out his neck and they cut off his head immediately. They [Rabbi Isaac and his followers] had clothed themselves in their fringed garments and had seated themselves in the midst of the courtyard in order to do speedily the will of their Creator. They did not wish to flee to the chambers in order to go on living briefly. Rather, with love they accepted upon themselves the judgment of heaven. The enemy rained stones and arrows upon them, but they did not deign to flee. They [the Christian attackers] struck down all those whom they found there, with blows of sword, death, and destruction.
But not all the Jews waited passively for the crusaders' blows. Some took matters into their own hands. Thus, another cry rang through the archbishop's courtyard.
"Ultimately we must not tarry, for the enemy has come upon us suddenly. Let us offer ourselves up before our Father in heaven. Anyone who has a knife should come and slaughter us for the sanctification of the unique Name [of God] who lives forever. Subsequenty, let him pierce himself with his sword either in his throat or in his belly or let him slaughter himself" They all stood--men and women--and slaughtered one another...They were all slaughtered. The blood of this slaughter flowed through the chambers in which the children of the sacred covenant were. They lay in slaughtered rows--the infant with the elderly--...[making sounds] like slaughtered sheep.
Such is the story of the Mainz Jews sequestered in the archbishop's palace. The third of Sivan, which normally would have been a joyous time of preparing for the holiday of Shavuot, turned into a day of mourning, a catastrophic bloodbath decimating one of the great communities of early Ashkenazic Jewry. More than a thousand Jews reportedly lost their lives on that terrible day. The tragedy in Mainz was preceded by the destruction of Worms Jewry some days earlier and was followed by the destruction of Cologne Jewry a few weeks later. Although these probably were the only major anti-Jewish assaults associated with the First Crusade, they were noteworthy for both the ferocity of the attackers and the heroic resistance of the attacked.
3. the Holocaust, a story excepted from With God In Hell, Rabbi Eliezer Berkovitz (6.45)
In Baranowicz, Rabbi Nissan Scheinberg was a Dayyan, a member of the rabbinical court. On Shushan Purim, in 1942, the Germans prepared a blood bath in the town at which thousands of Jews were murdered. Dr. Nehemia Kroschinsky, a surviving eyewitness, tells this story:
“A group of Slonim ḥasidim, who were caught in the ‘selection,’ stood together, preparing themselves for the moment of Kiddush Hashem, ‘the sanctification of the Divine Name’ in death. In the midst of the group stood the Dayyan, Rabbi Nissan, who called to the others: ‘Jews! Let us not forget that today is Purim. Let us drink L’ḥayyim, to life.’ He poured out a cupful and said again: ‘L’ḥayyim!’ He got hold of a few other Jews and started dancing. His face was shining as he sang the traditional Purim song, Shoshanat Ya’akov, ‘Rose of Jacob,’ and he shouted with joy until a German bullet silenced him.”