This Sunday is Lag Ba'omer. It is a festive day of Jewish unity and pride. We celebrate it with Kabalistic study, as well as outings, bonfires, BBQ's, parades, live music and other joyous methods.
The background story of this holiday recounts a terrible epidemic that raged in the land of Israel amongst the students of the great sage Rabbi Akiva (50-135 CE), resulting in the untimely passing of 24,000 people. Finally on Lag B'omer the plague ended.
In describing the devastation of this plague, and the time period leading up to the death of these thousands of scholars, the Talmud tells us “they did not act respectfully towards each other.”
As committed disciples of Rabbi Akiva they were each convinced that their understanding and approach to his teachings was the correct one. With their strong opinions, they lacked civility amongst each other, and left no possible room for the other.
The lesson this story teaches us is clear, and very necessary. We need to realize that those who view things differently than us are not necessarily evil, immoral or unintelligent. They may simply have a different perspective or understanding.
Today more than ever, we must be respectful, and indeed love, those with whom we even have profound disagreements. This becomes even more significant when we remember that it was none-other than Rabbi Akiva himself who taught us that  “‘Love your neighbor as yourself’ is the great principle of the Torah.” 
Oh, and one small additional benefit- you may actually learn a new perspective from them and them from you.

Do you ever think it's too late to do what you wanted? To complete your bucket list? To achieve those important goals?
Next week, we will mark the Jewish holiday known as Pesach Sheni, or Second Passover. It commemorates the Biblical story of a group of Israelites who were unable to participate in the Passover ceremonies. They approached Moses saying "Why should we be excluded?"
They could have just moved on with their life and waited until the next year to do Passover. But that wasn't good enough for them. They wanted to do it now, and be included in the festivities just like the rest of the community.
Moses in turn brings this question before G-d, who grants them another opportunity.
Every word in the Torah is true and everlasting. Every verse and story is not just a matter of history, but a practical lesson and instruction to be applied in our daily life. This beautiful story teaches us that no matter what, it is never too late to make things right. Even when errors were done deliberately, or opportunities were missed purposely, one can correct it. As long as we are sincere, there is always a second chance.

The secret of Chabad was written 3336 years ago on a piece of parchment in the desert. We read it this week in the Torah, when told to “love your fellow as yourself.” Rabbi Akiva called it “a major principle of the Torah.”
The Torah is a book of commandments, not suggestions. Yet, this seems contrary to human nature. How can one be instructed to “love” another “as yourself”? Love is an emotion, a feeling, and is not something that can be commanded.
This challenge led to various interpretations among commentators. Some suggest that the mitzvah is not on our emotions but about our actions, urging us to treat others as we would want to be treated, seeking their well-being as fervently as our own. To echo Hillel, “What is hateful to you, do not do to your fellow.”
However, every word in the Torah is precise and eternal. And the Torah does not merely instruct us to treat others as we would treat ourselves; it explicitly commands us to love them as ourselves.
Hasidic philosophy offers insight: the difficulty in loving one’s fellow arises when we see them as physical beings, separate from us. Yet, if we delve beyond their physicality, and see the soul, recognize the divine spark within them, we realize they are actually not “someone else”; rather, spiritually, we are both an extension of G-d. In essence, loving them equates to loving a part of ourselves, akin to one limb of our body cherishing another.
As one scholar paraphrased, a healthy body is one where every part works in harmony. Likewise, a healthy Jewish people is one big, caring family where each individual loves the other like his or her own self. Where one Jew faces rough times and the others hold his hands. Where one meets good fortune and all of us celebrate. Where each runs to do an act of kindness for the other, and shuts his or her eyes and ears to the other’s shame.
Love for those closest to home nurtures love for the extended family of humanity, and from there, love for all G‑d’s creatures. But if love doesn’t start at home, from where will it come?
Some three hundred years ago, in a small town in Russia, the Baal Shem Tov taught that “A soul enters this world for seventy or eighty years just to do a favor for another.” If we can live this today, just imagine how much better the world would be. Let’s look at our fellow for who they really are, the very essence of their soul, and then we can truly love the other, just as ourselves, as the Torah commands.