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Rabbi Shimon Bar Yochai Spoke His Last Secrets While Dying

The Idra Zuta opens not with serenity but with fear. Rabbi Shimon worried that after his death the world would take without understanding and not survive.

Curated by Arthur · Told by Maggid ·
Table of Contents
  1. He Was Worried the World Was Not Ready
  2. Why Rashbi Was Afraid
  3. The Gate He Unlocked at the End
  4. The Dream the Night Before
  5. His Soul Left During the Final Word

He Was Worried the World Was Not Ready

He was afraid. This is how the Idra Zuta opens its account of the final day.

Not serenity. Not the peaceful departure of a sage who has completed his work. Fear. The man the tradition calls Rashbi, the author to whom the entire Zohar is attributed, the greatest mystic of the second century CE, sat in the presence of his students and said: I have been anxious for the world. I have been holding things back. And now I am dying, and the world is going to have to manage without me.

The Idra Zuta, meaning the Lesser Assembly in Aramaic, is one of the most intensely personal sections of the Zohar, compiled c. 1280 CE in Castile, Spain. The scene it claims to preserve is specific: Rabbi Shimon's final teachings, delivered on the day he died, to the companions who had sat with him for decades learning what most of the world would never hear.

Why Rashbi Was Afraid

The verse that expresses his fear is from Proverbs (30:20): she eats and wipes her mouth, and says, I have done no wrong. It is an image of someone who takes without recognizing what they have taken, who benefits from a system they refuse to examine. Rabbi Shimon feared this would be the world's posture after his death: receiving judgment without recognizing it as judgment, taking the fruits of spiritual transmission without understanding their source.

He had been a dam. Not every secret should circulate freely. Some knowledge, released without the proper preparation, damages the vessel that receives it. The mystical tradition has always understood that revelation can overwhelm. Rabbi Shimon's fear was not vanity about his own importance. It was structural: he knew what he was holding and he knew what would happen to the world if it flowed into an unprepared world all at once after his death.

The Gate He Unlocked at the End

What the Idra Zuta records is the moment Rabbi Shimon chose to stop holding back. The dam broke, deliberately, on the last day. He spoke in the presence of his students, and the Zohar says the divine presence, the Shekhinah, filled the house. The other students watched and listened. One of them, Rabbi Abba, was tasked with recording what was spoken. He said afterward that he tried to write everything down, but as Rashbi spoke the light increased until he could barely see his own hand, barely form the letters.

Rabbi Shimon spoke through that light for hours. He taught the deep mechanics of the divine face, the Partzufim, the configurations of God's structure that the Kabbalists call the most hidden of all hidden things. He taught about Arich Anpin, the Vast Countenance, and Zeir Anpin, the Small Face, and the way divine mercy and judgment are organized into relationship with each other and with the world below. He taught things that he had never spoken in the Idra Rabba, the Greater Assembly.

The Dream the Night Before

The Idra Zuta's narrative includes the detail that Rabbi Shimon had been visited the night before his death. The other rabbis of the heavenly court had come down to escort him. He was ready. He asked only for permission to settle what remained unfinished, to speak the things he had been carrying since his years in the cave.

This is the cave of the legend: Rabbi Shimon and his son Rabbi Elazar hiding from the Romans for thirteen years, sustained by a miraculous carob tree and a spring of water, reaching depths of Torah unavailable to those living in the ordinary world. When he emerged the first time, his gaze was so intense that everything he looked at caught fire. He returned for another year before he could rejoin human society. What he brought back from those years, and from the decades of teaching afterward, was what he unlocked in the Idra Zuta. He spent the last day of his life giving it away.

His Soul Left During the Final Word

The Idra Zuta says his soul departed while he was still speaking. Not at the end of a sentence. Not after a pause. In the middle of teaching, the fire increased, the companions fell to the ground, and when the light faded Rabbi Shimon was gone. Rabbi Abba said he could not record the last section because the light had become too intense for writing. The final secrets went with Rashbi, carried upward in the same light that had been increasing through the whole day.

The Zohar does not present this as tragic. It presents it as appropriate. The teacher who had worried that his departure would leave the world unprepared died in the act of preparing it. He gave everything except the last breath, and the last breath ascended without stopping.

Shimon Bar YochaiRashbiZoharIdra ZutaDeathMysticismRighteousness
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From the tradition

Sources

2 sources

The texts this telling draws on, in full. Open a card to read inline, or expand it for a wider, quieter read.

Idra Zuta 1:85Idra Zuta

Tradition tells us that Rabbi Shimon, or Rashbi as he's often called, was one of the greatest mystics of all time, the one to whom the Zohar, the central text of Kabbalah, is attributed. And here he is, at the very end of his life, deeply concerned about the future.

The passage The Idra Zuta, meaning the "Lesser Assembly," describes Rabbi Shimon's final teachings and passing. It's a deeply powerful and intimate moment.

Rashbi says, "I testify of me, that I was anxious for the world that it might happen upon the judgments of righteousness and the world might burn by its flames, as said, “she eats and wipes her mouth” (Mishlei 30:20)." He's worried. He fears that the world isn't ready for the intense spiritual light and judgment that's coming. That the world might self-destruct, like the woman in Proverbs who "eats and wipes her mouth, and says, 'I have done no wrong.'" There's a sense of denial, a lack of accountability that troubles him deeply. image for a moment. It's pretty stark. The verse from Mishlei (Proverbs) paints a picture of someone consuming something, enjoying the immediate gratification, and then completely disavowing any responsibility or consequence. Rashbi fears this attitude will lead to the world's downfall.

Then he says something that offers a glimmer of hope, but also a serious challenge: "From now on, that is, after my demise, the world will be guided according to the actions of each person. The depth is commensurate with the pit, that is, actions are rewarded measure for measure."

After he's gone, the responsibility shifts. It's no longer just on the shoulders of a few great individuals. The world will be guided by the collective actions of everyone. This is the principle of "measure for measure," or midda k'neged midda, a core concept in Jewish thought. What you put out into the world will come back to you. Your actions matter. Every. Single. One.

The Zohar is emphasizing that the consequences of our actions, good or bad, will directly impact the world’s trajectory after Rabbi Shimon’s passing. It's a call for individual accountability and mindful living.

But there's a catch. Rashbi laments, "In this generation there are righteous people, but they are too insignificant and cannot rise to defend the generation and the sheep from the four directions of the world." He sees righteous individuals, but they lack the influence, the strength, or perhaps the unity to truly protect the world.

This is where it gets really interesting, and perhaps a bit uncomfortable. What does it mean to be a "righteous person" who is "too insignificant"? Are we talking about a lack of power? A lack of voice? Or perhaps a lack of courage to stand up for what's. The Idra Zuta leaves us with a powerful question: What kind of world do we want to create? And are we, as individuals, doing enough to ensure that it's a world guided by righteousness and compassion, rather than denial and self-destruction? It's a question worth pondering, long after Rabbi Shimon's last breath.

Full source
Midrashim of Rabbi Shimon bar Yochai, Prayer of Rabbi Shimon Bar YochaiOtzar Midrashim (Eisenstein)

Rabbi Shimon bar Yochai boarded a ship bound for Rome on a mission to the emperor. That night, on the water, a figure appeared in his dream. It was Ashmedai, king of the demons.

"Ask me what you will," the demon king said. Rabbi Shimon recoiled. "To Hagar, a servant, God sent a heavenly angel. To me He sends the prince of demons?" Ashmedai was unmoved. "A miracle is a miracle, whether it comes from an angel or from me. Here is what I will do. I will enter the emperor's daughter as a possessing spirit. I will scream your name until they summon you. And I will not leave her body until every decree against Israel is reversed."

Ashmedai flew to the imperial palace and struck. The princess shattered every dish on her father's table. She convulsed. She screamed one name over and over: Shimon ben Yochai! Shimon ben Yochai!

When the rabbi arrived, the emperor begged him to heal his daughter. Rabbi Shimon called out to Ashmedai: "Leave this girl." The demon refused. "Not until the decrees are canceled." The emperor, cornered, summoned his advisors. One minister argued shrewdly: let the Jews keep the Sabbath, because they spend all their money on it and stay poor. Let them circumcise their sons, because most infants die. Every prohibition against Israel was, by this twisted logic, reversed.

Then Rabbi Shimon prayed. Forty days and nights in a cave, crying out to God to reveal when redemption would come. The gates of heaven opened. A voice called his name. The angel Metatron descended, touched him, and woke him like a man stirred from sleep. Trembling, Rabbi Shimon saw visions of kingdoms rising and falling, wars cascading toward the end of days, until at last the Messiah would stand in Jerusalem and God Himself would fight for Israel (Zechariah 14:3).

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