Kabbalah, Research Paper Example

Kabbalah is a rich and fascinating tradition of mysticism that has grown within Judaism, and made inroads into popular culture and conceptions. Though appropriated by certain modern ‘admirers’ and condemned by post-Enlightenment Jewish intellectuals, both of whom have denatured it from its authentic Jewish roots for their own reasons, Kabbalah is thoroughly grounded within Judaism’s sacred scriptures, doctrines and ideas. Its myths and doctrines may seem phantasmagoric, and it has introduced many innovations, but fundamentally Kabbalah is concerned with experiencing and even influencing God. As such, the endeavor of Kabbalah is fundamentally the endeavor of all mystical traditions: to encounter the Divine, experience it, and be forever changed by it.

Kabbalah is Judaism’s very own mystical tradition (Sherwin 5). Though its place within Judaism has been controversial for centuries, and post-Enlightenment Jewish intelligentsia, in particular, have disparaged it, Kabbalah is thoroughly and authentically Jewish (4-6). From the Hebrew KBL, “to receive”, Kabbalah has long been an elite practice within Judaism: as Sherwin explained, it was the preserve of “an intellectual and spiritual rabbinical elite” (6-8). Kabbalah is fundamentally grounded in rabbinic Judaism, and makes use of its canonical texts, i.e. the Bible (Tanakh), as well as the Mishnah, the Talmud, and the Midrash (Gersh 3, Sherwin 8). Initiates were always expected to cultivate moral virtues such as humility, and to rigorously adhere to Jewish law (8).

Although Kabbalah’s reliance on the Scriptures and key ideas of the Jewish religious tradition calls to mind the relations of Christian and Muslim mysticism with their respective traditions, Kabbalah differed from them in some rather profound ways, particularly with regard to the rejection of asceticism and self-mortification (Gersh 3). In Christian, Muslim, and other mystical traditions, the general conception is that denying the self—rejecting “physical needs, desires, or pleasures”—leads the devotee to a more spiritual state of existence and being (3). In most strains of Kabbalah, however, asceticism has always been rejected and discouraged: indeed, the pleasures of life, including food, community, and sexual congress, have long been seen as the gifts of God (3). By way of comparison, Christian mystics achieved such feats of asceticism as that of Saint Simeon Stylites (‘Pillar-Dweller’), who dwelt on a 60-foot-tall pillar for a full thirty years (3).

The wellspring of Kabbalah is the practice of contemplating scriptural enigmas and puzzles, beginning with the prophet Ezekiel’s vision of the living creatures, with the wheels within wheels and the chariot (Gersh 6). The chariot (Hebrew, merkabah) gave its name to early Jewish mysticism, which examined a variety of other enigmas in the Scriptures over time (6). It is important to note that this early Kabbalah engendered the opposition of the influential rabbinical academies in Babylonia and Palestine in antiquity; indeed, this was the beginning of the persistent feud between Jewish rationalist philosophy and the mystical tradition of Kabbalah, a feud that has continued down the centuries (5-6).

Despite this opposition, these early Kabbalists produced such influential works as the Hechalot (Halls) books, which give an account of the “heavenly halls or palaces through which the adept passes in his visions” (Gersh 6). Another influential text was the Sefer Yetsirah, or “Book of Creation”: this text introduced an idea that has been associated with Kabbalah ever since, that of the sefirot (6-7). The ten sefirot are “’lights’” or “’emanations’”, which serve the function of “bridges between the divine and earthly spheres” (7). The sefirot are quite a complicated concept, and one widely subject to individual interpretation (Dan 42). Still, it is generally recognized that one of the best ways in which to describe the sefirot is with the metaphor of the human body: the three greater sefirot constitute the divine head, and then subsequent sefirot represent arms, legs, the body, and the phallus, for a total of nine, with the tenth representing a completely separate entity, as will be seen shortly (43).

The first of these emanations was the very first human being: Adam Kadmon, the highest sefirah; from him came nine other sefirot (Gersh 19). The first three sefirot were the higher or upper lights, as opposed to the six lower lights that followed (20). The latter group, the lower lights, were the main means of Creation (20). Finally, the tenth light was the Shechinah, which in Kabbalah is God’s female aspect, “seen as a woman with all female attributes” (4, 20). All of these sefirot are the emanations of Ein Sof, God, who is infinite, supreme, and perfect (Dan 43). All come from the will of Ein Sof, the desire to create something keter, something other than Himself (43).

The Shechinah, the tenth sefirah, is well worth further elaboration, particularly with relation to the ninth sefirah, Yesod (Green 49). Firstly, Yesod stands as a symbol of male sexual purity, and is typically associated with Joseph, he who rejected the seduction attempt of Potiphar’s wife (49). For this reason the sefirah is called tsaddiq, referring to righteousness (49). However, as Green explains, this ninth sefirah also stands for male sexual potency, in addition to purity (49). To this day, Kabbalists insist that both of these aspects of the symbolism are not only important and necessary, but also inextricable: indeed, they can even be considered identical (49).

The reason for this requires a little exegesis. The reason that Yesod can simultaneously stand for male sexual potency and male purity is fundamentally the reason that in Kabbalah as in Judaism generally, not all sex is sin. More specifically, however, the idea is that “the inner world of the sefirot was completely holy”, and without sin: consequently, Yesod could stand for both sexual purity and sexual potency (49). In this context, the charged sexual imagery is seen as a very good thing indeed, and an aspect of God’s blessing (49).

And Yesod, as the male sexual force, also served—unsurprisingly enough—as the bridegroom of Shechinah, the female sexual force (Green 49). In fact, the conception is that Yesod is an agent or avatar of “Tif’eret, the true bridegroom of the Song of Songs” (49). Shechinah, also known as Malkhut (Hebrew, “kingdom”), is feminine and the bride of Yesod (50). And indeed, the relationship between Yesod and Shechinah is like that between king and kingdom: if Yesod is her Tif’eret, Shechinah is his Malkhut, his kingdom, and he both has dominion over her and is tasked with “sustaining and protecting her as the true king takes responsibility for his kingdom” (50).

But Shechinah has her own, very important role to play in the grand scheme of creation: she it is who is tasked with the governance of the lower world, i.e. earth (50). The Zohar, which will be treated of at length below, depicts her as Matronita, Aramaicized Latin for “Matron or Grand Lady of the cosmos” (50). She is a figure of considerable power, a Matron or Grand Lady indeed: as Green explains, “While Malkhut receives the flow of all the upper sefirot from Yesod, She has a special affinity for the left side” (50). Since the left-hand side is associated in the Scriptures with judgment, Malkhut has been called “’the gentle aspect of judgment’” (50). On the other hand, in the Zohar she is sometimes depicted as practically a goddess of vengeance, one who punishes the wicked (50).

But in fact, Shechinah is an even more complex figure. The early Midrash depict the Shechinah as dwelling in Israel’s midst, specifically as a kind of emanation of God: in other words, Shechinah was not distinct from God Himself (Green 50). Shechinah was seen as following Israel into exile, and also as suffering in exile with them (50). However, in the latest of the Midrashim there appears a new idea: the first suggestions of a “distinction between God and His Shekhinah” (50). In medieval times, this idea was carried to what might well be thought its logical conclusion in Kabbalah: Shechinah became practically a goddess, the counterpart to and spouse of the God of Israel (50-51).

As Green explains, Shechinah was still considered a part of God, along with the other sefirot (a rough analogy might be given with the Christian Trinity) (51). However, Shechinah was also “tragically exiled, distanced from Her divine Spouse” (51). Kabbalists went so far as to portray her to be vulnerable to seduction or abduction by the forces of evil, requiring the action of God and the righteous to free her (51). In fact, Kabbalists still maintain that this is the essential theme of religious life: “protecting Shekhinah from the forces of evil and joining Her to the holy Bridegroom, who ever awaits her” (51).

In addition to theology, Kabbalah has long been concerned with theurgy, i.e. working with or upon God: Kabbalistic tradition has long averred that by faithfully obeying the commandments found in the Torah, the Jewish people can ‘draw down’ God’s help from on high (Idel 163). This is called “augmentation theurgy”: the central idea is that by appeasing God and honoring Him, the Jewish people can gain His favor, such that He manifests His power in the sefirotic realm (163). Conversely, failure to faithfully obey the commandments in the Torah effectively “weakens” the divine presence on Earth (163-164).

These ideas are completely anathema to non-Kabbalist strains of Judaism, not to mention the related faiths of Christianity and Islam. The central idea is that human beings can influence God in a very dynamic, relational way that has no parallel in the orthodoxies of non-Kabbalist Judaism, Christianity and Islam: it is not only that human deeds can lead to God responding in a way that is either beneficent or wrathful, but also the idea that this relationship is to some degree activated by human deeds (Idel 165-166). More precisely, humans influence God by “activating” His attributes: for example, when Israel performs God’s will in some respect, an attribute, e.g. mercy, becomes “activated” (165).

The result of this is the idea that humans are very active and powerful agents in the context of their interactions with God: they can indeed influence Him; in fact, the human-divine relationship is predicated upon humans doing so (Idel 166). Thus, humans participate in the process of creation, because human activity can either increase divine power in this world or decrease it (166). Consequently, human beings have a very important role to play: by enacting God’s will, believing Jews, in essence, ‘add’ to Him by activating His various attributes, and so serving as dynamic partners in the relationship between humanity and the divine (166).

In addition to augmentation theurgy, humans also participate in “drawing-down” theurgy: theurgy focused on drawing down the Shechinah (Idel 166). In keeping with ideas found in the Talmud and the Midrashim, Kabbalah has long averred that by fulfilling the commandments found in the Torah, the Jewish people gain the indwelling of the Divine Presence, the Shechinah (166). The Shechinah dwelt in Paradise before Adam’s sin, at which point it was effectively forced into retreat and removal (166). Thereafter, it ascended towards heaven, and continued to ascend as the sins of humanity continued to mount (166).

As Idel explained, “The ten upward ascents of the Shekhinah and its consequent retreat from the world required positive human activity to bring about its descent back into the world” (166). The process began, according to the Midrashim, with Abraham: a righteous man, beloved by God, Abraham’s many good deeds began to bring the Shekhinah back down towards earth (166). The process continued through the good deeds of such figures as Moses, and continues through the Kabbalah (167-168).

But there is one text that is absolutely crucial to examine in the study of Kabbalah: the Zohar, the veritable Bible of Kabbalah (Gersh 9). Unveiled by Moses ben Shem Tov de Leon of Guadalajara ca. 1290 CE, the Zohar had the effect of turning a loose hodge-podge of Jewish mysticism into something far more structured and well-organized (9). The Zohar itself purports to be a second century CE text, penned by Rabbi Simeon bar Yochai no less (9). This claim is untenable, however, in light of the fact that the Zohar contains a number of very clearly anachronistic references, and—of especial interest—a forecast that the exile of the Jewish people was soon to end, such that they would be allowed to rebuild their lost temple (9). The book itself is a heady brew of older, Scriptural texts, Kabbalist beliefs of the Sephardic Jewish community of de Leon’s own time, and the inventions of de Leon himself (9).

The Zohar presents itself as the means for the initiated to unlock the secrets of the Torah (Gersh 9). The text itself contains a number of stories, as well as a great deal of scriptural exegesis, all designed to serve the purpose of connecting the adept to the “mystical landscape of heaven and creation” (9). By commenting on the scriptures, the text professes to be able to reveal hidden wisdom and knowledge to the initiate. From the first chapter of Genesis to Numbers 30, as well as Deuteronomy in part, the Zohar provides midrashim and discussions, all designed to unlock mysteries and promote insights (10). These were the sections of the Torah that were—and still are—read out loud in the synagogues (10). Parts of the biblical books of Ruth, Lamentations, and Song of Songs are also commented upon (10).

However, the part of the Zohar that is regarded as the holiest is the Idra Rabba, or Great/Large Assembly: in this part, the great Rabbi Simeon and ten companions give an account of creation wherein God revealed Himself through Adam Kadmon, the primordial man (Dan 32, Gersh 10). As Dan explained, the fact that the Zohar used Rabbi Simeon and other famous Jewish sages allowed for it to spread more widely, gaining greater acceptance amongst Jewish circles (33). This was important, because the Zohar’s approach is actually quite radical, and the text might otherwise have been denounced more widely as heresy (33).

One Zoharic idea in particular stands out as an absolutely crucial insight: Kabbalah adheres to that age-old formulation, ‘As above, so below’. For a Kabbalist, the things of heaven cast reflections upon this earth, such that “all events in this world are reflections of events on high” (Gersh 20). This is absolutely crucial to an understanding of the Zohar, because it is through this lens that the text interprets practically everything in Jewish scripture, history, and ritual (Dan 33). In Kabbalah as defined by the Zohar, every religious practice and duty in Judaism is framed with reference to cosmic, divine powers (54).

The Zohar gradually spread over the course of the often-tumultuous Late Medieval period, the fourteenth and fifteenth centuries, till it had achieved wide acceptance amongst the adherents of Kabbalah scattered throughout Christian-ruled Europe and Muslim-ruled North Africa, Egypt, and the Middle East (Dan 34). Spain remained arguably the greatest center of Kabbalist thinking, even—or perhaps, especially—in the face of a rising tide of Christian persecutions of Sephardic (Spanish) Jews in the fifteenth century (34). Disaster struck in 1492, when Isabella of Castile and Ferdinand of Aragon expelled the Jews from the Spain (34). Thereafter, new centers of Kabbalist thought would have to arise elsewhere.

‘Elsewhere’ proved to be Ottoman-ruled Palestine, historic Israel, and the next major Kabbalist intellectual proved to be a giant: Rabbi Isaac ben Solomon Luria (Gersh 12). As Gersh explained, Luria and the school he founded at the town of Safed in the 16^th century was a watershed on par with the Zohar (12). The Zohar, in Gersh’s words, “gave Kabbalah a system”, while Luria and his Safed school took that system and made it accessible to average Jews, effectively popularizing it (12).

As with so many Jewish thinkers down the ages, especially since the Roman sack of Jerusalem and destruction of the Temple in 70 CE, Luria’s Safed school tackled that seemingly interminable affliction of Jewish life: the Exile (Gersh 12). Down the ages, the Jews had interpreted the many calamities that had beset them in centuries of foreign rule as the judgment of God (12). Luria and his pupils, however, were the first Jewish thinkers to confront this problem in a way that offered grounds for a new hope: an interpretation of all history that began with creation (12).

In the Lurianic Kabbalist account of creation, the Creation itself began with the act of God drawing Himself into Himself, thereby making a negative space (Gersh 12-13). This act was known as tsimtsum, and it was a kind of exile. Thus, exile is the condition not only of all creation, but of God Himself (13). Further elaboration of the myth demonstrates this more fully: with God’s withdrawal, traces of His light were left in the space created by tsimtsum (Coudert 120). These coalesced into the first sefirah, which was Adam Kadmon, the primordial man (120). From Adam Kadmon came a succession of sefirot (120). At this point, all of the sefirot were confined to vessels (Gersh 20). It was the sundering of the six vessels containing the six lower lights that began the Creation, in an act known as the shevirah: with the shattering of the vessels, shards of those same vessels were flung into the aether of the cosmos, where they were exposed to and assimilated sparks of the sefirot light (20).

However, because these shards or klipot emerged from the destructive crucible of the shevirah, they became evil rather than good (Gersh 20). The consequence of this is a cosmos disturbed and imbalanced: sparks of the sefirot are still trapped in the klipot (20). Even God’s male and female aspects became imbalanced; as a result, “all created beings are in exile” (20). As seen above, in the Kabbalist view there is a two-way relationship between all things above and all things below: whatever happens above happens below in some way, and vice-versa. As a consequence of this relationship, the sin of Adam is the reflection of the shevirah-event: Adam’s sin resulted in exile, and the shattering of his soul (20). Moreover, the relationship between heaven and earth is a two-way relationship, for in Kabbalist thought, too, Adam’s fall sundered the Shechinah, hitherto the bridge between earth and heaven (20). But Luria’s theology was scarcely a pessimistic or dark one: rather, it grappled with the darkness and reached towards the light. As Coudert explains, Luria emphasized exile, making it a central idea in his theology, but he also emphasized the answer to exile: redemption (119). Indeed, in Luria’s theodicy, exile is the necessary prerequisite to universal redemption, which is to occur by means of the transmigration of souls (119-120). The transmigration of souls is achieved through tikkun, restoration: through human actions for good, the sparks can be freed from their confinement in the klipot, and liberated to return back to the divine light (121). Through the process of gilgul, reincarnation, humans become perfected, and are finally able to perform the process of tikkun rightly (121).

Kabbalah has been denatured from its Jewish roots by admirers and detractors alike. However, it is deeply Jewish, grounded in the scriptures and doctrines that have made Judaism so unique. That said, it is easy indeed to see how this discipline has attracted so many admirers from amongst the goyim. Personally, I find the inherent reciprocity appealing: the deeply spiritual idea that humans must follow the divine will and act upon the divine in order to activate particular attributes of God. It is appealing because it offers such a profoundly different view of the cosmos than other worldviews: a profound relational engagement with God.

References

Coudert, A. The Impact of the Kabbalah in the Seventeenth Century. Leiden, The Netherlands: BRILL, 1999. Print.

Dan, Joseph. Kabbalah: A Very Short Introduction. New York: Oxford University Press, 2006. Print.

Gersh, Harry. Kabbalah: Jewish Mysticism. West Orange, NJ: Behrman House, Inc., 1989. Print.

Green, Arthur. A Guide to the Zohar. Stanford, CA: Stanford University Press, 2004. Print.

Idel, Moshe. Kabbalah: New Perspectives. New Haven, CT: Yale University Press, 1988. Print.

Sherwin, Byron L. Kabbalah: An Introduction to Jewish Mysticism. Lanham, MD: Rowman & Littlefield, 2006. Print.