Sacredness Generators in Tsaddik’s Tomb Shrines

Recently, there has been a surge in the phenomenon of visiting the graves of the Tsaddik (Tsaddik) in Israel. People flock to intricate and distinctive complexes such as the Tomb of Rabbi Meir Baal Haness, the resting place of the Rashbi, and the Shrine of Yonatan ben Uziel, seeking blessings, answers to questions, and spiritual inspiration. Surrounding these pilgrimages, a rich tapestry of folklore and cultural practices emerges, predominantly in select locales that I refer to as charismatic. These sites are characterized by their deliberate, expansive design, providing ample space for contemplation. Within these Sacred spaces lies the potential for individual introspection and moments of profound serenity.

The significance and popularity of a Holy site are not solely determined by the stature of the tsaddik interred there, but rather, are largely influenced by the Sacredness Generators present at the location. These Generators, akin to universal archetypes, resonate within our unconsciousness and shape the ambiance of the Holy site. They possess the power to impact visitors and facilitate experiences of holiness, transcending cultural and religious boundaries. Individuals who approach these sites with openness and readiness can be profoundly influenced by these Generators, regardless of their religious background. However, the attainment of such an experience is not automatic; it depends on the disposition and actions of the individual during their visit. These Generators are not exclusive to Jewish Holy places but are also present in other Sacred sites, transcending cultural, national, and religious conditioning.

The central premise of the article is that humans possess an innate awareness of the Sacred and are perpetually drawn to seek out moments and locales where a connection to the divine, the otherworldly, and the eternal can be experienced amidst the ordinary and mundane. A charismatic Sacred site is one where individuals undergo a transformative process, both physically and mentally, facilitating qualitative shifts in consciousness. Both qualitative and quantitative research corroborates this notion. Studies indicate that a significant portion of the population visits the tsaddikim Tombs Shrines in search of a transcendent encounter with the Sacred. However, certain sites offer more accessible pathways to this experience due to their layout, associated narratives, geographical positioning, and other factors pertaining to the sense of holiness, while others may offer less conducive environments.

For instance, the revered figures of the Ari and Rabbi Shimon bar Yochai, pivotal in Kabbalistic teachings, lived approximately 1900 and 500 years ago, respectively. Yet, while both are esteemed Tsaddiks, the Tomb of Rabbi Shimon bar Yochai possesses the attributes of a charismatic Holy site with active generative elements, whereas the Ari’s Tomb exhibits fewer of these characteristics. This contrast elucidates the rich folklore and mystical ambiance enveloping Rabbi Shimon bar Yochai’s resting place, drawing a significantly larger number of visitors who linger for extended periods of time, and report profound experiences of connection. It is important to note that within religious circles, the influence of the Ari’s Tomb is not diminished, and may even exceed that of Rabbi Shimon bar Yochai’s Tomb at times. However, among the general populace, this distinction holds true. The disparity arises from the fact that the Ari’s Tomb is situated within a conventional cemetery, serving primarily as a grave marker. In contrast, Rabbi Shimon bar Yochai’s Tomb occupies a central position within a sprawling and multifaceted complex, nestled at the foot of Mount Meron and bordering a forest. It also has symbiotic relationship with surrounding ancient synagogues and Tombs. All of this is amplifying the sites allure as a place of pilgrimage.

Another illustration of this contrast can be observed in the differing dynamics surrounding the Tombs of Maimonides (the Rambam) and Rabbi Meir Baal Hanes, both situated in Tiberias merely kilometers apart. Undoubtedly, from a religious standpoint, Maimonides holds greater significance than Rabbi Meir Baal Hanes. Yet, it is Rabbi Meir Baal Hanes’ Tomb that exudes a heightened sense of charisma, capturing the collective imagination and evoking deeper emotional resonance compared to Maimonides’ Tomb (both receive a Same number of visitors). I attribute this phenomenon to various factors such as the layout of the complex, its geographical positioning, and other inherent elements— which I call Sacredness Generators.

Rabbi Meir Baal Haness Tomb evolved in the last decades into a distinct realm unto itself, adorned with its own folklore and customs, profoundly impacting visitors regardless of their religious affiliations—be they devout Jews, secular individuals, or non-Jews. In contrast, Maimonides’ Tomb, that lacks a similar process of development, doesn’t have the same vivacity and animation in the eyes of those who visit it.

Noga Collins-Kreiner conducted an extensive survey on visiting the Tsaddikim graves Shrines in Israel. Her findings reveal that since 1999, over 30% of the Israeli Jewish population visits these graves, including those who seek spiritual experiences outside of religious reasons. The majority of these visitors (63%) choose a specific Tsaddik grave to visit. The most frequent group size (44%) ranges from two to five people, while 14% visit alone, allowing for a unique and spontaneous personal process. Interestingly, most visitors (64%) do not attend the celebration of the Tsaddik interred there but choose another date for their visit. Furthermore, while the primary purpose for 63% is to visit the grave, they also incorporate visits to other sites, including the graves of other Tsaddik’s, with a quarter doing so.

The survey indicates that the reasons for visiting the graves of the Tsaddik range from simple curiosity to a profound search for meaning. The motives of visitors are placed on a continuum, with touristic curiosity on one end and a quest for faith and spirituality on the other. The article suggests that some Tombs of the Tsaddik’s provide and facilitate a spiritual experience and a connection to meaning, which has contributed to their popularity and charisma. The development of these sites in recent years aligns with the rising interest in spirituality, “New Age” culture, and the increasing popularity of Jewish mysticism (Kabbalah).

It is worth noting in this context that one aspect of holiness in Hasidic Kabbalistic thought involves the concept of a Tsaddik, who is seen as the foundation of the world (Proverbs 10:25). In terms of religious science, this can be interpreted as the Tsaddik being the center of the world. Consequently, his grave is also viewed as the axis of the world, a place where the act of creation is renewed and where we return to Primordial time[1]. This underscores the significance of visiting the grave site itself. It can be said that the purpose of the pilgrimage to the graves of the Tsaddik, and the culture that develops around it, is deeply rooted, sometimes at a subconscious level, in experiencing the Sacred, in being reborn alongside the surrounding world, and in transitioning from the mundane to the eternal and Sacred. Sacredness Generators at specific sites, like the Tomb of Rabbi Meir Baal Haness or the Tombs of other Rabbis, facilitate this transition.

Judaism attitude to visiting Holy places

Gurevitch and Aran argue that there is no intrinsic link between place and Judaism, positing that God Himself is the place and transcends physical locations. According to them, Judaism dissociates place from holiness, asserting no connection between heaven, earth, and the underworld (world axis). They describe the Jew as a wanderer, his staff planted in a book or scroll rather than in the ground, symbolizing a resistance to centralization. God is perceived in an unlocalized voice, in the cloud. Even with a Temple, the Jew envisions exile, distancing himself from physical locations and moving closer to the conceptual[2].

Gurevitch and Aran reference Jonathan Smith’s critique of Eliade’s theories, suggesting a shift from cosmology to anthropology because, they argue, the Jewish experience exemplifies that place is essentially the human universe, a mythic construct. They also cite Jacob Neusner, who contends that if Eliade’s ideas were accurate, the destruction of the Temple should have precipitated the end of Judaism. Instead, Judaism thrived and evolved with the development of the Mishnah and the Talmud, further demonstrating the resilience and adaptability of Jewish religious life independent of physical locations[3].

Gurevitch and Aran argue that Judaism contests the concept of Axis Mundi (world axis) but does not reject the idea of a center. They view place as a focal point of passion, effort, and meaning, but not as a source of holiness. In their analysis, place serves to connect people—highlighting the anthropological aspect—but it is the Sacred texts that construct a cosmology. They see in Judaism a duality of book and land, a dialectic between cosmology and anthropology, yet neither alone is sufficient to establish a true center[4]. They illustrate this point by noting that although God appeared on Mount Sinai, it is not a pilgrimage site. Instead, the holiness associated with Mount Sinai was transferred to the Temple through the Ark of the Covenant and the Tablets.

Furthermore, Gurevitch and Aran note that Jerusalem is not mentioned in the Torah. The children of Israel were instructed to build a house for God in the location He would choose for His name to reside (Deuteronomy 10:23). Israel is depicted as a people of choice, selecting the Land of Israel, which originally held no inherent holiness but acquired it through a historical act of choice. Subsequently, anachronistic traditions linking Jerusalem to the creation of the world and resembling those of ancient Temples developed, ascribing holiness to the city. Gurevitch and Aran also assert that the pilgrimage to Jerusalem did not involve traditional rites of passage, did not treat the city as the axis of the world, and lacked elements of catharsis or liminality[5]—this might explain why the tradition of pilgrimage to Jerusalem is not prevalent today. After the Temple’s destruction, the home meal came to replace Temple sacrifices, and the challah replaced the showbread, sanctifying the home. They conclude that in Judaism, the concept of a Holy place has largely been supplanted by the notion of Holy time, exemplified by Shabbat[6].

The perspectives offered by Gurevitch and Aran are grounded in Jewish thought that evolved during periods of exile, or within the Land of Israel at times when the Temple did not exist and Jews did not reside in Jerusalem. Today, with a Jewish presence near the Temple Mount complex, the perception of Holy places is rapidly evolving, particularly among the general populace who may not be deeply versed in Jewish thought. The sanctity of Jerusalem, particularly as a physical place, is increasingly emphasized. Organizations like the Temple Institute are gaining followers, and many people engage in pilgrimage, experiencing the holiness of these places first-hand, often without prior scholarly or textual engagement. For many, visiting the Western Wall is a profound affirmation of their Jewish and Israeli identity. The traditional emphasis on textual study is somewhat yielding to practices like visiting the graves of the Tsaddik, placing notes in the Western Wall, or using amulets, reminiscent perhaps of practices during the Temple period. The return of Jews to the Land of Israel has reinvigorated the connection to sites of biblical significance, such as Beth El, and it remains to be seen whether new charismatic Holy sites will emerge in this context.

In Jewish tradition, God is referred to as “the place,” which reflects a monotheistic view of a God without form, omnipresent, and transcendent of time and place. Theoretically, this notion could suggest opposition to the sanctification of earthly places[7]. Yet, historical and contemporary practices indicate otherwise: from the Sacredness of the Land of Israel and the Temple-related mitzvahs to pilgrimages to the graves of the Tsaddik, the sanctification of places has been a persistent element in Judaism from ancient times and continues today. Devotees often look towards Jerusalem and pray in its direction. Living in exile for millennia may have influenced shifts in perceptions about Holy places. Jewish mysticism scholar Arthur Green notes that while the Temple once held the status of the world’s axis, following its destruction, this symbolic centrality shifted to the figure of the Tsaddik[8]. Today, particularly with the Jewish return to the Land of Israel, there appears to be a rejuvenated interest in Holy sites among both religious and secular communities.

Synagogue as a Holy place

According to the definitions of the Ministry of Religious Affairs, synagogues are considered Holy places. However, they do not qualify as charismatic Holy sites, because they are formal fixed structures designed for routine public worship. In contrast, some Shrines of the Tsaddik’s, which have recently gained popularity as pilgrimage destinations, can be defined as charismatic Holy places. The Tomb of Rabbi Meir Baal Haness and the Western Wall plaza are examples of such sites. They are charismatic due to the way they were established—featuring elements that act as Sacredness Generators. These sites possess characteristics that appeal to Jews and can also provide non-Jews with experiences of sanctity, enhancing their charismatic appeal.

Environmental psychology suggests that places hold symbolic value, with meanings shaped by their appearance, which in turn guide specific behaviours[9]. For example, the behaviour expected in a library differs markedly from that at a pool or a school. Similarly, a regular synagogue, with its characteristic structure, encourages a type of behaviour aligned with fixed patterns—essentially, a routine (external) religious behaviour that places individuals within their ordinary, mundane experience, distancing them from experiencing holiness. In contrast, visiting the Tombs of the Tsaddik or the Western Wall often represents a break from the routine, fostering a different, more profound type of engagement.

The psychology of religion identifies two types of religious expression. The first is a religion that functions as a moral and social code, offering protection, security, a sense of identity and belonging, termed external religion. The second type is connected with a mystical, personal experience of the Sacred, involving a process of conversion and deep connection, referred to as inner religion. Therefore, not every designated Holy place, and certainly not every synagogue, necessarily embodies an experience of the Sacred. There are places that provide security, identity, cultural, and social conditioning, and there are those that facilitate a personal and internal process, connecting individuals to the eternal and Sacred. According to this framework, only the latter type of places truly qualifies as Holy in terms of the definitions used in this work.

This perspective is not meant to be judgmental; indeed, it recognizes that ideally, every person can connect with God at any moment and anywhere, which is the ultimate religious aspiration. However, the psychology of religion suggests that the majority of religious individuals engage in prayer and regular worship out of moral obligation, adopted worldviews, life habits, and tradition, rather than from a direct connection to holiness[10]. Synagogues primarily serve as venues for external religion, thus they are designed to support worship and uphold tradition. While this certainly plays a vital role in fostering a reformed and stable society, the process of connecting to holiness, as outlined in this work, is portrayed as an individual endeavour between a person and God, where public settings may serve as distractions

Environmental psychology posits that the consistency and routine of behaviour in a physical setting across time and locations stems from its deep integration within the social, organizational, and cultural frameworks that relate to daily life. Thus, every physical space is not just a behavioural environment but also a social, organizational, and cultural one[11]. Consequently, regular synagogues, embedded in these routine environments, tend to detach individuals from the Sacred and the transcendent. In contrast, the Tomb Shrines of the Tsaddikim, which are not part of everyday systems and routines, facilitate encounters with the Sacred. Research into the charismatic Holy places in Judaism should therefore concentrate on the Tomb Shrines of the Tsaddikim and pilgrimage sites. If synagogues are considered, the focus should be only on those that are freely constructed to support spontaneous individual experiences, personal prayer, and visits during special occasions.

Sacredness Generators in Rabbi Meir Baal Haness Tomb Shrine

Rabbi Meir Ba’al Hanes, a distinguished student of Rabbi Akiva, was married to Bruriah, the daughter of Hanina ben Teradion, one of the ten martyred sages. Tradition holds that he was a descendant of Nero Caesar. The Talmud recounts a miracle involving Rabbi Meir; Roman soldiers pursuing him were struck blind. However, Rabbi Meir was known not only for invoking miracles for himself but also for others, demonstrating his charismatic ability to perform miracles. For instance, he assured the jailer who helped his sister-in-law escape from a Roman brothel that he would be saved by uttering “Eloha Damair Aneni.” [12] (God od Meir answer me). When the jailer, facing execution, exclaimed, ” Eloha Damair Aneni,” [13] he was miraculously saved. This event led to the belief that anyone who donates to charity and recites “Eloha Damair Aneni” at Rabbi Meir’s Tomb, will have their prayers answered.

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The Tomb, believed to have been identified in the 13th century, gained prominence in the Jewish world in the 18th century when it began to be associated with charity funds. The earthquake of 1837 necessitated the reconstruction of the structure around the Tomb. Over time, additional buildings were added, including a synagogue, a yeshiva, and other public facilities. Today, the site comprises two complexes: one Sephardi and one Ashkenazi, each with a dome. It houses a significant yeshiva – Or Torah, and hosts an annual celebration. The place’s mystical allure was further enhanced in 1922 by the miraculous discovery of a note left by Rabbi Nachman of Breslav, which contained the formula “Na Nach Nachma Nachman Meuman.” This phrase is considered a potent formula that accelerates redemption and is especially popular among Breslav Hasidim.

According to a study by Noga Collins-Kreiner on visits to Jewish Holy sites, particularly the Tomb Shrines of Tsaddikim[14], the number of visitors to the Tomb of Rabbi Meir Baal Haness was estimated at two hundred thousand annually as of 2006; however, the official website of the site now reports about 1.3 million visitors yearly[15]. Notably, a significant portion of these visitors—35%—spend over an hour at the site, suggesting some kind of experience or process occurring during their visit. Collins-Kreiner’s research indicates that the demographic composition of the visitors is diverse: only 22% are ultra-Orthodox, 29% are religious, 8% are non-Jews (which is relatively high), and nearly half of the visitors are non-religious. This diverse visitation is attributed to the Tomb’s relative fame among the non-religious public. These statistics contrast with those for the nearby Tomb of Rambam, which attracts a similar number of visitors who are more homogeneous in their religious observance and tend to spend less time at the site.

The inevitable conclusion is that the Tomb of Rabbi Meir the Miracle Worker, has developed a charismatic allure that attracts a diverse range of visitors. Factors such as its location, the views of its surroundings, the architectural design, accessibility, and the associated miraculous stories contribute to its appeal. These elements help break the monotony and uniformity often seen in lesser-known sites, fostering a unique sense of holiness among visitors who are aware of the miracle story and the associated prayers. This heightened sense of sanctity is reflected in the extended duration of visits to the site.

In the Tomb of Rabbi the Sacredness Generator Sublime Extraordinary is manifested through the story of the miracle, illustrating that this Sacredness Generator is not always a physical attribute but can be an extraordinary story or belief associated with the charismatic Holy place. However, for the sanctity to be fully realized and functional, it must be embodied in a physical element present at the site. This physical manifestation allows visitors to seek divine intervention, healing, and assistance[16], turning the location into a hierophany—a place of divine revelation.

The Tomb of Rabbi Meir, demonstrates how the Sacredness Generator Sublime Extraordinary can manifest through a story or a common belief related to a Holy site—a Sacred object or a kind of totem that induces a unique experience (the occurrence of “miracles”) in its visitors. The grave and the Tsaddik are significant, yet the narrative and the continuous miracles it inspires hold greater importance. The unique nature of the story and the miracle is physically mirrored in the unusual shape of the Tomb and the ancient column situated across the wall from the Tomb, which further indicates the era of the miracle (the Roman period). The column embodies the symbolism of a center—a world axis. However, in this instance, the world axis that connects the planes resides not in the physical realm but in the narrative of the miracle and the internal intention.

The miracle story transcends mere otherworldliness, serving as a bridge between the physical and spiritual planes. This narrative validates the entirety of the extraordinary experience. The miracle itself stands as a Sublime Extraordinary. Few places in Israel emphasize the theme of miracles as markedly. The phrase “Eloha Dmeir Aneni” is ubiquitous within the Holy Tomb complex, suggesting that miracles (experiences of holiness) can be attained through prayer, with His help and faith in Rabbi Meir. The potential for an ongoing “miracle” instills a sense of order amid everyday chaos and connects individuals to the prospect of divine oversight in a foreign and estranged world.

The story of the miracle is echoed in the ancient stone column embedded in the wall of the synagogue—a miracle in itself—and in the peculiar structure of the Tomb on the opposite side, two notable physical elements. It is important to underscore that this is not a “typical” miracle associated with a past event or a renowned figure, but an everyday miracle experienced by visitors who utter the phrase “Eloha Dmeir Aneni.” It is a vibrant and evolving narrative that engages those who encounter it, deriving its power as a generator of Sacredness from this interaction.

Therefore, one of the defining traits of the Sacredness Generator Sublime Extraordinary is its dynamism and active engagement with visitors to the Sacred site, whether it is through responding to requests and prayers at the stones of the Kotel, or through the experiential impact of visiting the Tomb of Rabbi Meir, and the associated actions therein. The attribute of being exceptional or even sublimely exceptional is insufficient on its own; to truly be a generator of holiness, an interactive quality between the place and a person is essential, leading to something new and wonderful, even if it manifests only in the realm of feelings and sensations. The Sacredness generator of Sublime Extraordinary should resonate through body and soul, connecting us to the Sacred plane that transcends ordinary life.

The “miraculous” aspect of Rabbi Meir Baal Haness Tomb attracts over a million visitors annually, many of whom come alone and spend extended periods there[17], undergoing a transformative process and experiencing “visible salvations and miracles.” [18] Numerous Tombs of Tsaddik individuals are scattered across the Galilee, with the trend of visiting them intensifying. Yet, Rabbi Meir Baal Haness’s Tomb Shrine stands out in several distinctive ways: its location nestled between the mountain and the sea, its considerable size, the presence of two domes and two chambers, the exceptional artworks on one of the external walls, the overall layout, and its proximity to both the Hamei Tiberias National Park and an ancient synagogue. Adding to these attributes is the narrative of the miracle, the ubiquitous inscription “Eloha Dmeir Aneni” on walls and scrolls, the architectural design of the Tomb, the expansive Tomb hall, an ancient column, and customary practices at the site such as candle lighting, all contributing to its significant allure and charisma

Consequently, the abundance of extraordinary features—Sacredness generator Sublime Extraordinary—within Rabbi Meir Tomb complex fosters a connection to holiness among certain visitors, particularly those who visit alone and linger. This connection, in turn, contributes to further “performances” of “miracles” and enhances the charisma and aura of the site. Thus, a self-reinforcing cycle emerges between the Sacredness generator characteristic of the place and its charisma, a dynamic whose mechanisms warrant separate study.

Other Sacredness Generators present in the Tomb of Rabbi Meir Baal Haness include Unifying Duality, a Connecting Center, and Fractal Complexity. Positioned on the city’s outskirts, the site acts as a juncture between the external and internal, mountains and lake, urban areas and fields, land and water. It features two central spaces flanking the Tomb, each topped with a dome, epitomizing the Sacredness generator of Unifying Duality. Located at the city’s edge, its setting conveys a frontier ambiance, as if it’s the end of the world, especially since the mountain spur obscures the continuation of the Sea of Galilee from view. Yet, it also feels like the world’s center, highlighted by its blue dome, the building’s significant size, and its commanding presence at the intersection of the slope and the plain, near the coast. All these elements are linked to the Sacredness generator of the Connecting Center, which in this case is represented by the Holy Sepulchre or the ancient pillar on the other side of the Tomb room wall. The site’s vast, intricate layout with varied sections aligns with the Sacredness generator of Fractal Complexity.

At the site, it is possible to identify distinct stages on the path to the Shrine: starting from the parking lots, visitors enter entrance squares bustling with stalls selling Sacred utensils. The approach paths, positioned on both sides of the site to the north and south, are expansive open areas where public and even religious activities, such as dining, occur. At the entrance to the halls, there is a candle room where visitors can make requests and receive donations. Following this, visitors enter the main hall of the Shrine, which is both large and striking. On one side of this hall stands the Holy Tomb, adorned with a scroll bearing the inscription “Eloha Dmeir Aneni”[19]. On the opposite side of the Tomb, there is another hall that doubles as a synagogue, where an ancient column is integrated into its wall. Surrounding the two domed halls, which are adjacent to each other, are numerous other buildings utilized for a variety of social and religious activities, including study, commerce, and housing charitable and religious institutions. The windows in the great hall are stained glass, featuring astrological representations of the tribes. On the external wall facing the Sea of Galilee, there is a large, striking mosaic that depicts themes related to tribes and astrology, resonating with the nearby ancient Hamat Tiberias synagogue and thus harmonizing with the surrounding environment. This contributes to the cosmology that the site fosters. A crucial aspect of the site is its integration with the landscape, connecting to the nearby Lake Kinneret and the mountain that looms over Tiberias. Additionally, the blue dome atop the central building is a prominent feature visible from afar.

The complex of Rabbi Meir Baal Haness functions as a self-contained world, vast and intricate enough to embody its own cosmology, where the Sacredness generator of Fractal Complexity is manifest. The site demands active participation from its visitors: making donations, lighting candles, placing prayer notes, and engaging in prayer and requests[20]. The journey into the complex begins at the parking lot and progresses along an entrance path flanked by stalls, leading to the more secluded areas where the Holy Tomb and the ancient column are located, embodying a unique sanctification process.

It is possible to identify specific patterns within the Fractal Complexity of Rabbi Meir Baal Haness’s Tomb, including universal motifs such as duality, exemplified by the presence of two domes, and the integration of geometric shapes like the square and circle (a dome atop a large square structure). However, unlike other sites characterized by Fractal Complexity (such as the Wailing Wall), there appears to be no overarching master plan; rather, the site seems to have evolved organically, with elements being added incrementally. Despite this organic development, the inherent sanctity, strategic location, and aforementioned architectural features, along with the presence of a synagogue, collectively render the site a reflection of spiritual worlds in the eyes of its visitors.

Sacredness Generators in Rabbi Shimon bar Yochai complex

One of the most charismatic Holy sites in Israel, replete with Sacredness Generators, is the Tomb of Rashbi in Meron. It ranks as the second most visited Jewish site in Israel, following only the Western Wall, and hosts the largest and most significant annual festivity. According to the Collins-Kreiner report, it is the most frequented Tomb Shrine in Israel, and the premier site among the Tombs of the Tsaddik’s. The site manager reports approximately two million visitors annually. Notably, a substantial portion of these visitors—43%—spend over an hour at the site, indicative of some king of process and experience. The demographic of visitors is diverse: 63% are secular, a high proportion considering the site’s religious significance, and 3% are tourists, which is notably high given the overall visitor count. Additionally, many visitors are well-educated (31%) and from medium or higher socioeconomic backgrounds (35%), more than at other sites. In contrast, only a small percentage (5%) of the visitors are ultra-Orthodox.

In the early 1950s, Shmuel Kahana, the Director General of the Ministry of Religion, noted: “There is no place like Meron, where tradition cites numerous marks, caves, and Tombs of Tsaddik and notable figures such as those of Beit Hillel, Beit Shamai, Rabbi Yochanan Hasandlar, Rabbi Tarfon, Rabbi Yitzhak Nafcha, and others. Meron is not solely significant because of Bar Yochai. It encompasses a cluster of Holy graves, caves, and unique trees, including an olive tree associated with Rabbi Tarfon and an almond tree linked to Rabbi Yossi ben Kisma. Local legends speak of water with unique properties and even a special chair amidst the rocks known as Elijah’s Chair, designated for redemption-related acts.”[21] These diverse elements underscore the site’s complexity and suggest the presence of the Sacredness generator of Fractal Complexity.

Therefore, the complexity of the Rashbi Tomb complex serves as one of the Sacredness Generators in the site. This complexity helps visitors connect with their inner sense of sanctity, as they find themselves in a world that stands apart as Holy and distinct. The visit entails navigating multiple steps toward the Holy Tomb, which is concealed within the building and accessed only after traversing a labyrinth-like path where people engage in prayer. The complexity is fractal, characterized by the presence of diverse elements—water, fire, earth, and air; various life forms, notably trees; and different eras, juxtaposing remnants of the past with activities of the present.

The complex is situated above the settlement of Meron, at the forest’s edge, marking a convergence between nature and built areas, thus fulfilling the conditions for the Sacredness generator of Unifying Duality. Furthermore, the Holy Sepulchre is shared between Rabbi Shimon bar Yochai and his son Rabbi Elazar, adding another layer of duality to the site’s Sacred essence. This shared sepulchre not only highlights a physical duality but also underscores a spiritual continuity between father and son, enriching the site’s profound sanctity.

At the heart of the site stands a prominent building topped with a round dome, visible from a distance, which houses an intricate system of rooms. Surrounding this central structure are numerous auxiliary buildings, plazas for visitors, and a commercial street leading to it. Around the main building, other graves of Tsaddik’s can be found, including an ancient cave associated with the mythical figure Hillel (Hillel Cave), and nearby, on the hillside, lies the ancient synagogue of Meron. In addition to the Tombs, the area hosts a yeshiva, various social and religious institutions, dining facilities, and stalls selling Sacred objects. However, all paths converge at the Holy Tomb, located at the center of this architectural and spiritual ensemble, serving as a focal point and source of the sanctity of a Connecting Center. This central sepulchre acts as a spiritual nexus, drawing together the diverse elements of the site into a unified whole.

The fire ignited on the building’s roof during the Lag B’Omer celebrations serves as a profound source of Sacredness, both extraordinary and sublime. This fire, kindled in commemoration of Rashbi’s passing, symbolizes spiritual illumination. Rashbi, the revered author of the Zohar, has his Tomb infused with miraculous attributes, drawing numerous Kabbalists to the site for communion, sanctification, and inspiration. The impact of their visitation isn’t measured simply by percentages but by the absolute numbers in relation to the overall attendance, which is notably large. Chassidim spend extended periods at the site engaging in communion, prayers, dances, and rituals of purification, not only around the Tomb but also in the neighbouring forests. Here, one might even encounter Breslav Chassidim audibly calling out to God among the trees, an expression of their deep spiritual engagement. This dynamic blend of activities highlights the site’s profound Sacredness and its magnetic pull on the faithful.

Miracles, individual prayer, and magical protection are deeply entwined with the site. One notable miracle is the emergence of water from the rock in the cave of Hillel and his disciples, located at the lower part of the site. Additionally, the initial construction of the structure by Avraham Galanti in the 16th century is attributed to miraculous occurrences. The Ari, a revered Kabbalist, sanctified the place, asserting that making a pilgrimage to it and studying the Zohar there holds the same spiritual merit as a journey to Jerusalem. In the nearby ancient synagogue, there is a doorframe with a notable crack; it is believed that the day this doorframe collapses will herald Judgment Day.

Various customs are associated with Rashbi’s Tomb Shrine at Meron, including the “Halaka” ceremony, which is the first haircut for three-year-old children, a significant rite of passage in Jewish tradition. Over the years, these customs have evolved. For instance, drinking water from the springs nearby and prostrating on the grave have been regarded as remedies for various ailments. Additionally, there has been a spiritual linkage made between Rabbi Nachman of Breslav and Rabbi Shimon bar Yochai, with some believing Rabbi Nachman to be a reincarnation of Rabbi Shimon. This belief extends to practices like seclusion in the surrounding forests for spiritual introspection.

The mountain near the site has been considered Holy since ancient times. Before being consecrated to Rabbi Shimon bar Yochai, it was possibly associated with Yehoshua ben Nun and may have even been considered the location of his grave. These historical and spiritual associations add layers of significance to the site.

The experience of holiness in an Israeli context

Data from questionnaires focused on religious experiences reveal that solitary religious experiences are relatively rare among Jews and Muslims, with only 9% of Jews and 4% of Muslims reporting such experiences. In contrast, many individuals from these groups have felt religious emotions during historical collective events, such as military victories or major disasters, which suggests a communal component to their religious experiences.

Orthodox Jews, in particular, reported experiences that differ markedly from those described in other countries, indicating that religious experiences can be significantly shaped by cultural contexts. Psychologists of religion, Beit-Hallahmi and Argyle, interpret these findings as strong evidence of the influence of cultural tradition on religious experiences, challenging the notion that religiosity is a universal experience. They argue that the Jewish and Muslim traditions foster distinct perceptions and expectations of religious experiences, shaping not only the nature of these experiences but also the emotions associated with them

Beit-Hallahmi and Argyle provide a compelling argument about the influence of cultural traditions on religious experiences. However, their approach may blur the distinctions between an experience of holiness and a religious experience, which can be significant. According to Mircea Eliade’s theories, which suggest that hidden religious structures manifest in modern culture, experiences of holiness could be embodied within national rituals. This perspective helps to understand why respondents frequently associate religious sentiment with historical collective events. For instance, the pattern of seeking Sacred time might manifest in the emphasis placed on dates of commemoration and remembrance, illuminating why such moments are felt as religious or Holy.

Eliade’s interpretation suggests that these collective experiences serve as a modern conduit for Sacred moments, explaining the lack of reported solitary Holy experiences. In the context of Israel, as examined by Beit-Hallahmi and Argyle, religious patterns are especially pronounced within national narratives and myths, which are deeply intertwined with political elements. If one were to abstract these narratives from their political context, one might find that the underlying structures of holiness are remarkably similar across different traditions, underscoring a universal aspect of human experience that transcends individual religious or cultural identities.

Indeed, the nature of Western culture, with its emphasis on physicality, excellence, competition, ego, and career, can make the inward and contemplative dimensions of religious experiences more elusive. This cultural orientation is particularly pronounced in Israeli society, which is also heavily laden with the emotional weight of tradition and history. According to Freudian perspectives, a restless culture like this provides fewer opportunities for achieving a unique inner religious experience because cultural barriers often inhibit deeper, introspective states.

Despite these challenges, the fact that many still report having inner religious experiences suggests that such experiences are not solely products of cultural constructs but are intrinsic to human nature. This indicates that inner religious or Holy experiences, in various forms, are an essential and natural aspect of humanity, transcending cultural limitations. These experiences might manifest differently across cultures and individual lives, yet they share a common core that reflects a universal aspect of human existence.

Indeed, the fact that more than a third of respondents in another study reported having had a inner religious experience underscores the significant influence of how questions are framed in research. This highlights the importance of crafting the “right” questions to capture the true nature and scope of inner religious experiences. The manner in which questions are posed can greatly affect the results of a study.

For example, some of the characteristics of the religious experience in the questionnaires of Walter Stass (a psychologist of religion) collide with the Jewish concept of time (redemption) or of difference (with virtue) and non-uniformity, and also of the loss of the sense of self. Other characteristics, however, are consistent with Jewish tradition – a sense of the Holy, sanctified and divine; Blessing, pleasure, peace and joy; a sense of non-subjective reality; Source of information; paradoxical beyond knowledge; uncontainable; cannot be described in words. Therefore, a clash between cultural tradition and the individual’s way of education and between factors that contribute to the creation of situations that help stir up the religious experience (for example, the rejection of music in some streams of Islam) prevents the person from having the possibility of having a full religious experience

For example, certain facets of the internal religious experience, as outlined in the surveys conducted by Walter Stass, a psychologist specializing in religious studies, may seem contradictory to Jewish concepts of temporal progression (redemption). Conversely, other facets resonate harmoniously with Jewish teachings – a perception of the Sacred, consecrated, and divine; bestowal of blessings, delight, serenity, and jubilation; an apprehension of an objective reality; source of enlightenment; transcendentally enigmatic; boundless; ineffable. Thus, a clash emerges between cultural heritage and individual faculties of experiencing the Sacred, conflicting elements within tradition hinder circumstances conducive to evoking religious experiences (such as the prohibition of music in certain branches of Islam), impeding the potential for an individual experience of the Sacred.

Moreover, Beit-Hallahmi and Argyle assert that formal religion frequently constrains individuals in their apprehension of the present moment and Sacred locales. The observation that only a third of humanity has undergone a religious experience predominantly stems from educational, cultural, and social impediments, rather than being intrinsic to human nature. It is conceivable that in “primitive” societies, the propensity for inner religious experiences is considerably more prevalent. Hence, the capacity for inner religious experience is an inherent, intrinsic, and fundamental aspect of human nature. Attainable by anyone, such experiences occur to varying extents across vast swathes of the globe.

Some may argue that the allure of the Holy sites in Israel stems from their religious, cultural, and political significance within the Israeli context, particularly the Western Wall, the Church of the Holy Sepulcher, and the Dome of the Rock. While it could be argued, with some validity, that humans are inherently cultural beings and that their cognitive framework is shaped by culture, this viewpoint aligns with an anthropological perspective and, while relevant, is not the focal point of the research underpinning this article. While it’s true that an individual approaches a Sacred site with their cultural background and experiences, there also exists a distinct, autonomous process rooted in universal archetypes inherent in human perception, transcending temporal and spatial boundaries. The religious experience is not contingent upon culture but is an intrinsic aspect of every human being, akin to art. This assertion holds particular significance in the context of Holy sites in the Land of Israel, many of which are entwined with politics.

Footnotes

[1] Arthur Green, “The Ẓaddiq as Axis Mundi in Later Judaism”, Journal of the American Academy of Religion 45 (1977), pp. 327-347

[2] Gurevitch and Aran, “Never in Place: Eliade and Judaïc Sacred Space”, p. 135

[3] Jonathan Z. SMITH, To Take Place, Chicago p. 11 and Jacob NEUSNER, “Map without Territory: Mishnah’s System of Sacrifice and Sanctuary”, History of Religions, 19 August, 1979, p. 12

[4] Gurevitch and Aran, “Never in Place: Eliade and Judaïc Sacred Space”, p. 138.

[5] Ibid P. 144

[6] Ibid p. 132

[7] Ibid P. 135

[8] Green, “The Ẓaddiq as Axis Mundi in Later Judaism”, pp. 327-347

[9] Ittelson et al., An Introduction to Environmental Psychology, p. 90

[10] Beit-Hallahmi and Argyle, The Psychology of Religious Behaviour, Belief and Experience, p. 44

[11] Ittelson et al., An Introduction to Environmental Psychology, p. 91

[12] בבלי, עבודה זרה יח, ע”א

[13] https://rabimeir.co.il/

[14] Collins-Kreiner carried out extensive research for the Ministry of Tourism, which includes information on the experience of visiting Jewish religious sites and its nature. Among other things, the Tomb of Rabbi Meir Baal Hans in Tiberias and the Tomb of Rashbi in Miron were examined in great detail. See above, footnote 2.

[15] https://rabimeir.co.il/

[16] קולינס־קריינר, המאפיינים והפוטנציאל התיירותי של עלייה לרגל לקברי צדיקים, עמ’ 29.

[17] Ibid P. 140

[18] https://rabimeir.co.il/

[19] בבלי, עבודה זרה יח, ע”א.

[20] קולינס־קריינר, המאפיינים והפוטנציאל התיירותי של עלייה לרגל לקברי צדיקים, עמ’ 41.

[21] דורון בר, לקדש ארץ: המקומות הקדושים היהודיים במדינת ישראל, 1968-1948, ירושלים: יד יצחק בן־צבי, תשס”ז, עמ’ 129.

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