Author: Peter Cardilla

  • Kabbalah, Napoleon, and the Freemasons

    Introduction

    The following is an obscure tale from the notes of masonic history which I first found uncovered in the work of researcher Peter Lanchidi, from Eötvös Loránd University in Budapest. The story of David Rosenberg, Hungarian rabbi, artist, and freemason, appears to have long gone unnoticed, perhaps now to be finally appreciated.

    Rosenberg was born in 1793 and received enough formal education in his youth to work as a rabbi (albeit at a time when standards for such training were not uniformly in place). After spending some time in London, he moved, at the age of twenty-one, to Germany. There he remained until 1827, when he relocated again; this time to the Netherlands.

    In Germany, he had been, because of his religion, denied admission to Freemasonry—a discourtesy he would never forget. Dutch lodges, however, recognized no such prejudice and he was initiated into the fraternity right away. Rosenberg would continue to travel, next to Brussels and finally to Paris. In Paris, is where his story would really begin.

    Arriving in Paris in the summer of 1830, he immediately affiliated with a masonic lodge, first joining the famous Loge des Trinosophes of Jean-Marie Ragon and later, the well heeled Les Chevaliers Croisés. In Masonry, his knowledge of Hebrew language and customs, particularly Kabbalah, was valued as an asset. He was esteemed among his brethren as both an artist and a learned rabbi.

    His connections in Masonry likely secured his relatively comfortable employment at the Royal Library as a calligrapher. Rosenberg seemed to be enjoying the benefits of a fine reputation, both among freemasons and within the Jewish community.

    Napoleon and “Regeneration”

    By 1830 however, the high ideals of the French Revolution had still not been fully realized. The noble cause of equality for all citizens proved especially difficult to secure. For France’s considerable Jewish population, the situation was strange. Before the Revolution, they were not even counted as citizens. Jewish inequality became the subject of national debate. Some believed the only fair course was to unequivocally grant them equal rights as citizens. Some held the exact opposite position; that Jews were inherently “degenerate” and so incapable and unworthy of equal citizenship. Others struck a middle course. They believed Jews could, by spiritual, physical, and moral improvement, become worthy citizens. This idea came to be known as Jewish “regeneration.”

    Following the Revolution’s overthrow of the king, French Jews were granted citizenship. However, the true equality of their citizenship was unclear. Under Napoleon, Jewish “regeneration” became an official state position. Citizenship for Jews was conditional; contingent on their fitness for French society.

    They were discouraged from Jewish cultural practices that were strange to French norms. Laws were passed requiring Jews to intermarry with Christians. Within the Jewish community, a small but vocal reform movement often voiced extreme positions, advocating for radical changes to tradition and attacking any who disagreed. For many, it was a challenge to balance gratitude for the rights they gained with trepidation over the ones they appeared to be giving up in exchange. This is the social climate into which Rosenberg would introduce his most important work.

    Rosenberg’s Lithograph

    In 1841, responding to radical reformists, Rosenberg designed and produced a detailed and exquisite engraving, along with an explanatory text, Survey of the origin of the Hebrew religion. With the piece and its accompanying document, he hoped to show that Jewish tradition did not need to be changed. The socially progressive rabbi was, in matters concerning his own religion and the preservation of tradition, quite conservative. He offered Kabbalah as a key to understanding the symbolic meaning of the traditions. To the Jewish intelligentsia of the time however, Kabbalah had fallen out of favor and represented an embarrassing, obsolete view of the world. To Rosenberg’s great disappointment, his offering was not well received by the Jewish community.

    So then why tell the story of a minor rabbi and talented but unheralded artist whose greatest work was rejected? Well, because the work wasn’t rejected; at least, not entirely. Though it was thoroughly unregarded by the Jewish community for whom it was originally intended, Rosenberg’s lithograph enjoyed a far better reception with another audience. One particular group received the work with great excitement. That group, you may have guessed, was Freemasonry.

    Freemasonry and Kabbalah

    After finding no audience with the Jewish leaders, Rosenberg turned his attention elsewhere. If his modest lineage as a rabbi failed to impress the cosmopolitan rabbis of Paris, it was of no concern to the mostly gentile freemasons, who received him as an expert on Hebrew culture.

    He produced a new text to accompany the engraving, which he titled, Explanation of an Engraving on the Origin of the Jewish Religion, as Connected with the Mysteries of Freemasonry. In this second text, he explained the imagery of the same lithograph in masonic terms. He thoroughly relates the symbols of Kabbalah to the signs, offices, and symbols of Freemasonry. These interpretations, presented as original wisdom, are almost certainly of his own creation or personal collection. This should not be read as an indictment; in fact, it’s the point.

    His explanations are–in line with contemporary thinking of the time–essentially deist interpretations, preaching the revelation of divinity in nature, and its observability through science. Rosenberg’s explicit reference to current issues and allusions to the diminished state of custom and ritual, make his work timely and topical.

    What would explain a conservative defender of tradition like Rosenberg, knowingly and intentionally trying to introduce new ideas? Could it be that the redressing of old symbols with contemporary meaning is the richest tradition of all? In the same region of France where a young Napoleon won the decisive battle that launched his military and political ascent, the twelfth century rabbis of Provence, in response to a similar challenge six hundred years earlier, gave Kabbalah some of its earliest expression.

    A Tradition of Preserving Tradition

    The philosopher Maimonides (1138-1204) would—centuries before French reformists—question the validity of many traditions in light of a rational worldview. The kabbalists, however, made it their duty to defend tradition. Rather than either agree to change materially, or stubbornly refuse to accept new ideas, they instead reimagined their old symbols and customs to represent those new ideas. This not only preserved tradition, but for many who had become disenchanted with outmoded thinking, it reinvigorated it. For some, the symbols had real meaning for the first time. Rosenberg seemed to be attempting to similarly reinvigorate Jewish tradition in nineteenth century France. In the prospectus for the his work, Rosenberg wrote, “our religion is paralysed” further explaining:

    If you think deeply, [it seems] excusable, because the true purpose of many practices is incomprehensible. The priesthood has lost the primitive idea which animated it two thousand years ago; the ideas of past centuries, poorly understood, have become childish for many, and the crowd wanted to reject them.

    If that sounds to you like a statement which could easily pertain to Freemasonry, Rosenberg certainly agreed. His presentation to a masonic audience was strikingly similar, where he wrote “the Royal Art [ie. Freemasonry] is paralyzed” and, changing only a few operative terms, proceeded with virtually the same language.

    Progress and Tradition

    What Rosenberg seemed to believe about both Kabbalah and Freemasonry was this: the tradition is the reinterpretation of tradition. This, at least, is not something he made up. Italian rabbi and kabbalist Moshe Chaim Luzzatto (1707-1746) explained:

    [T]he essential [Kabbalistic] secrets were hinted to by our Sages with concepts brought from nature or science, using techniques taught by the contemporary scientists of those generations. However, the key [point] is not the nature or science, rather it is the secret that they wanted to hint at with it. Therefore the accuracy of the hinted concept is not added to or detracted from if the analogy it is presented with, is true or false. The objective was to present the secret within the context of what was well-known by the scholars of that generation. The concept could have been presented differently in the context of what is well-known in other generations, and the [kabbalist] would do so himself were he to express it in those generations.

    Modern Freemasonry, with its “religion upon which all Men agree,” similarly looked to incorporate the progressive thinking of the time—natural philosophy, history, and science—into the prevailing religious and cultural symbols. The book Long Livers, written by an anonymous freemason and popular when first published in 1716, provides the following:

    “…the Religion we profess, which is the best that ever was, or is, or can be; and whoever lives up to it can never perish eternally, for it is the Law of Nature, which is the Law of God, for God is Nature.”

    Whether or not you appreciate Rosenberg’s art or agree with his interpretations of masonic symbols is not the point. He understood what the early kabbalists accomplished in the Middle Ages and saw its analog in the freemasons of Enlightenment Europe.

    Symbolic Meaning

    The symbols of Kabbalah and Freemasonry easily correspond to each other because, as Rosenberg realized, they explain the same phenomena. The phenomena of existence and living, of growth and development, of birth, life, and death. Our understanding of the world around us will continue to change but the reality behind it never will. The symbols of Kabbalah and Masonry are meant to portray the eternal, perfect truth, but we can only explain them with the best truth we know, which, though always improving, will always be temporary and incomplete.

    As freemasons, we have a responsibility to care for the heritage entrusted to us. Our traditions are important, they connect us to each other—past, present, and future. We shouldn’t allow the symbols to become meaningless for current and future generations. The only way to ensure they are preserved and passed along is to ensure they are always relevant and valued.

    Bibliography

    • Ergas, Rabbi Yosef, and Avinoam Fraenkel. Shomer Emunim: The Introduction to Kabbalah, 2025.
    • Lanchidi, Peter. “Between Judaism and Masonry: The Double Interpretation of the Kabbalistic Lithography of David Rosenberg, Survey of the Origin of the Hebrew Religion(1841).” Revista de Estudios Históricos de La Masonería Latinoamericana y Caribeña Plus , January 1, 2023.

      “Kabbalah and Jewish Religious Reform in the Paris of the July Monarchy: Rabbi David Rosenberg’s Aperçu de l’origine Du Culte Hébraïque (1841).” Revue Des Etudes Juives, January 1, 2024.
    • Longeville, Harcouet De. Long Livers: A Curious History Of Such Persons Of Both Sexes Who Have Liv’d Several Ages And Grown Young Again: With The Secret Of Rejuvenescency Of Arnoldus De Villa Nova. Legare Street Press, 2022.
    • Sepinwall, Alyssa Goldstein. “‘Napoleon, French Jews, and the Idea of Regeneration,’ in CCAR Journal 54 [Special Issue on Sanhedrin Bicentennial] (Winter 2007), 55 – 76.” Academia.edu, June 5, 2016. https://www.academia.edu/25899124/_Napoleon_French_Jews_and_the_Idea_of_Regeneration_in_CCAR_Journal_54_special_issue_on_Sanhedrin_Bicentennial_Winter_2007_55_76.

  • The Legendary Jewish Origins of Alchemy

    Introduction

    I wrote this after reading Raphael Patai’s work The Jewish Alchemists, which looks at the long relationship, both historically and legendarily, that has existed between Jews and the practice and craft of alchemy.

    Alchemy stands out as one of the oldest and most enduring pursuits in the human quest for knowledge. The earliest cradles of civilization each developed their own traditions of astrology, medicine, metallurgy, and, ultimately, their own alchemy.

    In the West, the Greco-Egyptian tradition is the one received from antiquity. Enriched by medieval Arab culture, then passed to Latin Western Europe, this is the alchemy still familiar to Westerners today. However, there is another alchemical tradition—one relatively unknown—which may underlie the history of Western Alchemy from its very beginning. An ancient Jewish tradition has been attested, in every period, from late antiquity to the present day.

    Egypt and Zosimos of Panopolis

    Perhaps the earliest alchemical writings known today are those of the famed Egyptian alchemist Zosimos.1 Zosimos (c. 250 CE) lived in the city of Panopolis, in the Hellenized Egypt of the late Roman period, where he was employed as a metallurgist and priest.2 His writings are a combination of technical treatises and letters written to students. In Zosimos, is not found the caricature of the blaspheming magician, railing against the religious establishment, but instead a conservative traditionalist, diligently working to preserve the tradition handed down to him by recognized masters of the “sacred art” as he called it.3

    Maria the Jewess

    A major influences on Zosimos is a person called Maria Hebraea, or “Maria the Jewess.” His regard for Maria is exceptionally high—approaching awe—at times referring to her as “divine.” Maria is credited with inventing or introducing numerous alchemical techniques and apparatus, some of which are still used in modern chemistry and continue to bear her name.4 Though disputed as merely legendary by Gershom Scholem,5 scholars generally accept that Maria was a real person. She may have lived as early as the first century CE or as late as just a few generations before Zosimos himself.

    Along with the epithet “Hebraea,” Maria’s Jewishness is attested by pseudo-Olympiodorus who quotes her. “Maria says again: ‘Do not touch it with your hands; you are not of the race of Abraham; you are not one of our race.’” If authentic, such a statement would almost certainly indicate that she was Jewish.

    Enoch and King Solomon

    Beyond Maria, Zosimos refers generally to a larger Jewish alchemical tradition, for which he insinuates a remote history. He writes to his student, Theosebeia, about a question he had concerning the “ancients” and how he found an answer in “the Jewish books.” He additionally mentions other “Jewish writings,”6 and relates a Hebrew myth from the apocryphal book of Enoch concerning fallen angels who, desiring human women, transgressed and were banished from heaven. According to the story, it was they who taught mankind the art of alchemy.7

    Writing “the mystery of the nine letters of King Solomon,” Zosimos invokes the legendary King of Israel. By applying a biblical heritage to alchemy, he participates in a practice that would continue for centuries. Zosimos lived at a time when a Greek translation of the Jewish scriptures had existed for several centuries. The Hebrew bible and its heroes were well known in the Greco-Egyptian world. Moses was esteemed among Greco-Roman pagans, as both a holy man and a powerful magician. He was also believed to be an alchemist.8

    In Deuteronomy, Moses takes the Golden Calf and burns it in the fire before grinding it into dust, mixing it in water, and making the Israelites drink it. In this account, alchemists clearly saw a reference to the aurum potable, the “drinkable gold,” or elixir of life.

    Arabic Alchemy

    In the Middle Ages, the center of alchemy shifted from Egypt to the Arabic world. The “art of the philosophers” would here receive the name alchemy from the Arabic, al-kimiya. During this time, it would realize significant advancement, finding some of its greatest practitioners and commentators.

    The Arab alchemists upheld the Jewish reputation as ancient masters. Maria and Solomon remained of the highest authority and were joined by an expanding cadre of biblical figures redrawn as alchemists.

    Khalid ibn Yazid

    Often listed first among Arab alchemists, Khalid ibn Yazid (c. 668 – 704) was a seventh century prince. Despite his personal interest in alchemy, much of the enormous body of alchemical literature attributed to him is today believed to be pseudepigraphical.

    Among the writings of pseudo-Khalid ibn Yazid is one which became very influential to medieval alchemists,the Book of the Secrets of Alchemy (Liber Secretorum Alchimiae). A copy found among an alchemical encyclopedia published in sixteenth century Germany, includes the longer title “The Book of the Secrets of Alchemy by Calid son of Iazich , translated from Hebrew into Arabic and from Arabic into Latin by an uncertain translator.9 Another copy from eighteenth century Geneva, contains essentially the same title, further reinforcing the idea of a Hebrew original.

    Textual evidence suggests the book may actually have come from a Hebrew original and may possibly have been written by a Jewish author.10 Whether or not it was originally written in Hebrew, whoever preserved the work decided it was important to make that claim in the title. The “uncertain translator” was, as scholar Raphael Patai points out, “unwilling to forego the prestige Jewish expertise enjoyed in the alchemical world”11 and so the book’s Hebrew origin is emphasized. That the book was translated, first into Arabic and later into Latin, shows, again, the centuries-long and multicultural span of Jewish influence on Western alchemy.

    Hebrew Translations of Arabic Writings

    Even when little writing is found from Jewish alchemists, the evidence of a Jewish tradition in alchemy can be seen. Alchemy flourished in the Arab world from the eleventh to the thirteenth century. A wide range of Arabic texts from that period have been found in Hebrew translations. Included are both widely known works and rather obscure ones. The significant effort necessary to produce these translations indicates there was some audience of Jews with more than just a superficial interest in alchemy.

    An example of a well-known Arabic text preserved in Hebrew, is the Book of Alums and Salts by al Razi (864 – 925 CE). A relatively obscure one, is the work of Abufalah the Saraqusti.12 Though in both cases the original text is Arabic, in each case the Hebrew copies are noteworthy. The Hebrew version may preserve the oldest tradition of the Razi text. While Arabic copies exist, the surviving Hebrew manuscript seems to be translated from an earlier Arabic original. In the case of Abufalah, the two works for which he is best known—undoubtedly of Arabic origin—now only exist in Hebrew copies. These translations seem to show a continued Jewish participation in alchemy throughout the Arab era.

    The tendency to make alchemists out of biblical heroes had, by the end of alchemy’s Arabic sojourn, reached back as far as it could go. A list of alchemists provided by the exceptional philosopher and scientist ibn Sina (980 – 1037 CE),13 begins with Adam and includes Noah and Moses. Also in the list are post-biblical alchemists specifically identified as Jewish. One example, “Jacob the Jew,” presented the Arab physician with, among “many things,” a theory of learning.

    “If you want to be a philosopher of nature, to whichever religion you belong,” ibn Sina records the otherwise unknown Jacob as saying, “listen to the instructed man of whatever religion.” In the Muslim context in which this was written, both the confession to having learned from a Jew and the endorsement of Muslims learning from non-Muslims, are striking, and speak to the exceptional regard in which ibn Sina must have unquestionably held his Jewish teacher.

    Alchemy in Western Europe

    The center of alchemical practice would begin to shift to Western Europe. By the fourteenth century, Europeans were the de facto stewards of alchemy. They, like the Egyptians and Arabs, continued to read alchemical prowess into bible characters. The list of biblical alchemists, already starting with Adam, now included Seth, Tubal-Cain, Abraham, Sarah,14 Jacob, Miriam,15 Korah,16 David, and more.

    If connecting alchemy to biblical heroes of the past made it more acceptable to Christians, connecting it at the same time with contemporary Judaism, made it personally deniable. Should there become a need to disavow oneself of alchemy, Jews made a convenient scapegoat. A Christian alchemist could easily deny charges of heresy by decrying the trickery of Jews, who would be accepted readily and without question as the source of evil doing.

    The Mysterious Book of Julius Gervasius

    A striking example of this is found in a treatise known as The Age-Old Chymical Work. The title page gives a long description, naming Rabbi Abraham Eleazar as the author and crediting Julius Gervasius with the supposed discovery and subsequent publication. The mysterious work contains two parts. The first part contains its own inner title page which describes the alleged author.

    Covenant
    God without Beginning and End
    Abraham Eleazar the Jew, A Prince, Priest, and Levite
    Astrologer and Philosopher, born of the stock of Abraham, Isaac, Jacob, and Judah

    The second part bears a title which purports the book to be Eleazar’s copy of the work of Rabbi Samuel Baruch.

    Samuel Baruch, the Rabbi, Astrologer and Philosopher, born of the Stock of Abraham, Isaac, Jacob, and Judah, which teaches the great Secret of the great Master Tubal-Cain, from his Tablet, found by the Jew Abraham Eleazar.

    Outside of this publication, nothing is known of Julius Gervasius or the two Jewish sources he names, Eleazar and Baruch. Early scholars concluded that the whole work was written by Gervasius. Later opinion suggests there may be authentically Jewish writing preserved here.

    It’s apparent that Gervasius, whoever he was, although compelled to bring these works to print at some cost to himself, and despite having taken considerable effort to provide his own explanatory charts, indices, and a glossary of foreign terms, was in no way sympathetic to Jews.

    In his preface, Gervasius mentions the author’s “Jewish blindness” and “Jewish rudeness.” He speaks of the book’s idolatrous and mistaken content and ultimately rejects the “drivel scattered
    in the book by this Jew, with which he tries to defile Christendom.” Gervasius’s disdain for the author, is consistent with the low regard he seemed to have for all Jews. General contempt is reflected in his unsympathetic description of the Jewish plight as “the curse that the ancestors of this miserable people wished upon their own necks.”

    Unlike Gervasius’s scathing preface, the main text seems to be the work of an apparent Jew, openly sympathetic to the suffering of his people. He provides them the secrets of making gold so that they can satisfy the heavy tax burden set upon them by the “Roman Emperors.” It seems unlikely that Gervasius, or anyone, would write the entire thing only to so vehemently attack it in the preface. It seems more likely that Gervasius, as he claims, edited existing Jewish documents. Given Gervasius’s clear opinion about the writer and the book, Patai asks and answers:

    …why did he bother with publishing it at all? The answer, I believe, lies in the great respect that Christian alchemists had for Jewish adepts, despite their unfriendly attitude toward Jews in general…even though his view of Jews was negative, he nevertheless recognized the Jewish author’s alchemical mastery, and considered his book important enough to publish, and thereby enhance his own reputation as an alchemist, while at the same time taking care to emphasize his objections to Jewish views that had nothing to do with alchemy. (Patai, p. 241)

    The legend of Nicholas Flamel

    Interestingly, there is a possible connection between this story another well known legend; that of Nicholas Flamel. In Flamel is a case where, again, myth preceded truth and the two became inextricably tangled. Much like Khalid ibn Yazid, Nicholas Flamel lived a significant and well documented real life. The historical Flamel (1330 – 1418) was a French book trader, who married a wealthy widow and, together with her, established several legitimate charities. He died an unremarkable death and was buried in the local church.

    The legendary Flamel is much more interesting. While trading with a Jewish merchant, he comes into possession of a Hebrew manuscript, the Book of Abraham the Jew. He struggles for years to interpret the text before traveling to seek the help of Jewish scholars in Spain. He is successful, making the acquaintance of a Jewish master who agrees to return home with him. His new teacher however, dies of an illness en route. Nonetheless, Flamel acquires the key to making gold and to everlasting life. As his legend grew, he was alleged to be alive, living with his wife in India, several hundred years after his supposed death.

    Teasing out myth from fact in the story of Flamel, thankfully, is not my job. Seen in the story is another famous alchemist, the European Flamel, allegedly owing his alchemical success to a number of Jews: Flamel’s book is written by a Jewish author, received from a Jewish merchant, and deciphered with the help of a Spanish Jew. Whoever invented the legend clearly hoped to convince people of three things: the Jewish origins of Flamel’s knowledge, the impenetrability of it to non-Jews, and the possession of that knowledge by contemporary Jewish adepts.

    Returning to Gervasius, he assumed his manuscript was the same one which had frustrated Flamel for so many years. Flamel’s “Abraham the Jew” was likewise assumed to be Gervasius’s “Abraham Eleazar.” Beyond this partial match in the name of the supposed authors, other similarities exist making it possible, if not likely, that Gervasius and Flamel (or pseudo-Flamel) possessed copies of the same document.

    One example can be found on the title page of Flamel’s Livre des figures hieroglyphiques. The Jewish author of his manuscript is described in terms strikingly familiar to those in the titles of Gervasius’s manuscripts.

    “Abraham the Jew, prince, priest, Levite, astrologer and philosopher of the nation of the Jews…”

    Pseudo-Lull and Raymond of Tarrega.

    So goes the interesting and rich legend of Flamel, the alchemist who succeeded in making gold and living forever.

    Few alchemists, even in legend, would be so successful. An alchemist known as Raymond, was said to have succeeded in making gold, but living forever proved too difficult. Legend had long conflated this “Raymond the alchemist” with the more famous Franciscan missionary, Raymond Lull (1232 – 1315) of Majorca. Modern scholarship has largely sorted out the confusion between the two Raymonds, but not before Lull, the martyred philosopher, became identified with Raymond, the doomed alchemist.

    Raymond the alchemist seems probably to have been Raymond of Tarrega, a Marrano.17 He was the author of several alchemical works and was believed to have successfully created gold at the request of King Edward. As the story goes, after first helping fund the king’s military campaigns, Raymond became displeased and refused to make any more gold for him. The king had Raymond imprisoned in the Tower of London, from which he eventually escaped, possibly to France. In his later years, he would make the fateful decision to return to Spain.

    In Spain, one of his books, On the Invocation of Demons, came under the notice of an inquisitor general. He was accused and partially tried as a heretic by the Inquisition. Before a verdict would be officially rendered, he was found murdered in his bed.

    Despite his unwavering testimony to his own Christianity, trial records show Raymond’s accusers didn’t buy it. They frequently emphasized his Jewishness, repeatedly referring to his conversion having been only recent. This was undoubtedly meant as an indictment of his character.

    Before his trial and death, Raymond enjoyed a seemingly fine reputation as an alchemist. His works were cited for many years, albeit with credit usually being wrongly attributed to Lull. In fact, most, if not all of Lull’s legendary reputation as an alchemist, rightly belonged to this other Raymond; the converted Jew from Tarrega.18

    Kabbalah, Alchemy, and Christianity

    In the fifteenth century, European Christians were introduced to Kabbalah by Italian Jews. Among those Jews was Johanan Alemanno, well known for his interest in alchemy and as the teacher of Pico della Mirandola. Starting with Pico, the Renaissance tendency toward syncretism would connect Kabbalah with every system known. An association with alchemy was inevitable.

    This retrofitting of Kabbalah with alchemy—sloppy, inconsistent, and incomplete as it was—would nonetheless become so widespread that the two terms became virtual synonyms in the parlance of the time.

    Though alchemy, in reality, exerted little influence on Kabbalah, certain concepts of Kabbalah had a significant impact on alchemy. Gematria, a form of numerology, and the Kabbalistic belief in the magical power of the Hebrew language, were widely adopted by Christian alchemists, among whom “kabbalistic alchemy” developed.

    To Cornelius Agrippa (1486 – 1534 ) and Paracelsus (1493 – 1541), two looming figures of the time, Kabbalah and alchemy were conceptually interchangeable. They weren’t alone. Christian alchemist and reported teacher of Paracelsus, Solomon Trismosin claimed to have learned the secrets of alchemy—including that of everlasting life—from “kabbalistic and magical books.”

    In the seventeenth century, Rosicrucianism became identified with alchemy. Heavily steeped in Hermeticism and Paracelsian alchemy, it extended its claim further to include Kabbalah. It’s been speculated that the popularity Kabbalah enjoyed among Christians may have been due, at least in part, to their preference to label a concept as “kabbalistic” rather than call it “Jewish.”19

    The end of an era

    By the time of Isaac Newton (1643 – 1727)—to some, the last alchemist—the reputation of Jews in alchemy was well established. As alchemy began to pale to modern science and medicine, and its practice diminished in the eighteenth and nineteenth centuries, the tradition of Jewish alchemical excellence, by then, bore 1,800 years of attestation by Greeks and Egyptians, Arabs and Europeans, pagans, Christians, and Muslims.

    The Jewish Position on Alchemy

    After all this, it’s unclear how much Jewish involvement there really was in the development of alchemy in the West, though it seems difficult to dismiss such a long and varied record of attestations. The ancient attributions to Maria place Jews in the earliest alchemical records. The continued acknowledgment of Jewish excellence in alchemy among Muslims and Christians—despite often coinciding with an open contempt for Jews—adds another layer of complexity to the picture of Jewish role in alchemy.

    Finally, you may ask, what was or is the Jewish position on all this? I’ll leave you to consider the words of Patai, describing the Jews own view on their alchemical legacy:

    One notices a…correspondence between the general evaluation of alchemy and the Jewish view on the Jew’s participation in it. Once alchemy came into disrepute, was considered a false science, a fraudulent art–this is how it was viewed by nineteenth century scholarship–the position of Jewish historians and other scholars was that Jewish participation in it was minimal. However this…was preceded by a long period, some fifteen centuries long, in which alchemy was considered the greatest of arts and sciences… During this long period, Jewish scholars generally emphasized the seminal role Jews played in alchemy.

    Notes:

    1. The texts, written in Greek, Latin, Arabic, and Syriac, are collected from Byzantine and Syriac catalogs of Greco-Egyptian alchemy.
    2. Shannon Grimes, Making Gold, p. 17
    3. The term alchemy is of a later Arabic derivation and did not yet exist
    4. Bain marie
    5. Scholem, Alchemy and Kabbalah
    6. By authors named Apilis son of Gagios and Theophilus son of Theogenes
    7. 1 Enoch 8:1-4
    8. There was an alchemist of late ancient Egypt named Moses, of whom Zosimos was clearly aware, and with whom the biblical Moses should not be confused.
    9. Iazich is obviously a corruption of Yazid
    10. Raphael Patai, Jewish Alchemists, p.126
    11. Scholem, Alchemy and Kabbalah
    12. Abufalah of Syracuse, Sicily
    13. Known in the West as Avecinna
    14. Abraham’s wife, who one legend has discovering the famed Emerald Tablet
    15. The sister of Moses, identified with Maria the Jewess
    16. The husband of Miriam, who learned alchemy from her and profited greedily before being punished.
    17. A crypto-Jew. A Jewish adherent who pretended to convert to Christianity.
    18. To be clear, none of it belonged to Lull, however other pseudo-Lullian works exist which are not believed to belong to Raymond of Tarrega.
    19.Joseph Dan, A Very Short Introduction to Kabbalah

  • Masonic style guide

    I recently finished writing my first book (available soon, pre-order it now). My book, probably not surprisingly, concerns Freemasonry and Kabbalah. As I was working with editors the question of proper capitalization was raised. I realized that I wasn’t exactly sure about it. Following the tradition of capitalizing every word related to Freemasonry (Freemason, Mason, Masonic, Lodge, etc.) produced a manuscript where far too many words were capitalized and seemed inappropriately reverential.

    I started looking for a style guide to consult. I found the one in place for the Ars Quatuor Coronatorum, the publication of the Quatuor Coronati research lodge. This was useful. Being British however, not all of that style guide was appropriate for American authors like me. I followed their preferences when it came to capitalization. I also disagreed with their preference for “cabbala.” Their justification that it is the “Hebrew tradition” is strange to me. If that was ever the case, it no longer is. Modern scholarship, particularly among Jewish scholars, now prefers “Kabbalah.”

    To make things easier for myself and my editors in the future, I decided to compile my own style guide. I’ll include it here. It is obviously very incomplete and I’ll add to it with time. Refer to the Chicago Manual of Style for anything that is not specifically mentioned here.

    Abbreviations
    Abbreviations for masonic titles should be avoided except when they immediately follow the person’s name. They should be rendered without periods between the letters. For example, “John Smith, PM” not “John Smith, P.M.”

    Capitalization
    freemason
    freemasonic (discouraged)
    freemasonically (discouraged)
    Freemasonry
    grand lodge
    Kabbalah
    kabbalist
    kabbalistic
    kabbalistically
    lodge
    mason
    masonic
    masonically
    Masonry

    Dates
    January 23, 2024
    From 1960 to 1966 (not from 1960-66)
    In the 1980s (no apostrophe)
    twentieth century

  • My sweet Lord. A Divine Romance in Kabbalah

    To me, a most striking element of Kabbalah is the constantly unfolding romance of the divine Bride and Groom. To be certain, the symbols of bride and groom do not strictly belong to Kabbalah. Both mainstream Judaism and Christianity employ them. However the mystical texts of Kabbalah go further than almost any other in describing the intimacy of the divine couple.

    The pages of the Zohar abound with countless references to this fantastically rich and unique love affair. Various images of male and female partnership describe the love of God toward His beloved. The tender affection of lovers, the playful courtship and hopeful longing of youthful infatuation, and the selfless generosity of committed partners, all find their place in a thrilling story of love and mutual devotion.

    Christianity typically names Christ as the Groom and the Church as the Bride. Judaism sees in those same symbols God and the Assembly of Israel. These interpretations, at their essence, differ very little from each other. They both attempt to describe a relationship between God and the people. The symbolism of Kabbalah, however, is different.

    These marriages of God to the people, as portrayed by traditional religious symbolism, are, perhaps unavoidably, somewhat one-sided. God provides and the people show gratitude. God commands and they obey. God is awesome, the people worship Him. Most married people would agree, this superficial description certainly doesn’t reflect the whole truth of marriage.

    Of course, providing for the needs of others, loyalty, and commitment are large parts of marriage, but there is more. There are shared dreams and common goals, exchanged passion and compassion, the mutual pride of jobs well done together, and the joined hope for the future. In the Zohar we see the cooperation and interdependence of a divine Male and divine Female, working with and relying on each other to literally create and sustain the world.

    A central theme of Kabbalah is God’s creation of the world. Here it presents a particularly fascinating concept. Creation is not something that happened in the past, but something that is happening right now. The process of creation is ongoing and has to be maintained. The Creator blesses His creature and they return to Him prayer and worship. This flow of divine energy sustains all of creation and any disturbance to it threatens the very existence of the world.

    The Tree of Life of Kabbalah

    This process occurs by way of a symbolic apparatus called the Tree of Life. The providence of God is conveyed, not by direct contact, but through a series of divine intermediaries known as the sephirot. These spheres emanating from the Godhead span the distance between the perfect purity of God and the murky imperfection of the world. As they move further from the divine spirit, they draw closer to gross matter. The last node on the Tree is closest to the created world and the most susceptible to its influence.

    In Kabbalah, it is this last sephirah, Malkuth, that is referred to as Bride. It is identified as the Shekinah, the concept of God’s presence in the world. The Groom, conversely, is the sephirah Tiferet, Beauty, where the influences of the other sephirot are balanced and combined before they can be transmitted to the Shekinah. The divine Couple, to initiate the creative process, must unite. The marriage has to be consummated. But of course, there are obstacles.

    Though the Shekinah bears blessings to the world and receives the prayers of the righteous, She also bears the sins of the wicked and delivers judgment in return. As much as righteous acts among the people stimulate the divine flow, evil behavior stifles it. When bad behavior overshadows the good, the divine structure is damaged and the Shekinah becomes separated from Her Groom. The world can not receive blessings nor are its prayers received.

    Along with the Shekinah, God’s presence in the world, there is a competing presence; that of the Sitra Achra, the Other Side. The Other Side, the realm of evil and corruption, is the main objector to the divine union. It attempts, by varied means, to disrupt the courtship at every turn.

    It tries to claim for itself blessings intended for the Shekinah. It tempts the Groom with demonic seductresses. When the Shekinah is separated from Her companions, the Other Side hopes to lure Her to themselves. Will She resist their crooked charms? Will He overcome the plots of His opponents? Can They stand up to the challenges of the relentless suitors? All remains to be seen.

    Like most, I love a good love story. A good love story is an adventure, a fantasy, a comedy, and in the end, true love always wins. This is also true of the divine Love Story. But Kabbalah is more than stories. It’s an invitation to consider how your life resembles the divine. With the courtship, engagement, wedding, and marriage of the divine couple, with its obstacles and great successes, we have wonderful symbols.

    So often, the most natural and intimate expressions of love are held distinct from those of worship and spirituality. The symbols of Kabbalah allow us to see the divine in our most precious and meaningful relationships. Those relationships are then promoted to exalted heights, where our feelings tell us they rightfully belong.

    This is the gift of Kabbalah. To see our own love affairs as symbols of the world-sustaining acts which they resemble in our hearts and to our families. To know that the affections you have for your most beloved, reflect the very love that creates and uplifts the world. To cherish and celebrate your love as the adventure and the triumph that it was always meant to be.

  • Elisha and the two bears

    Kabbalah gave me a way to believe scripture that I previously found difficult. This is perhaps the thing I most appreciate about it. It’s not always easy for me to explain exactly what I mean when I say this. However, the other day I was reminded of a story from the Bible. The prophet Elisha, mocked by a group of children, responds by putting a curse on them. Immediately 42 of the children are mauled by bears. This is a perfect example of what I mean.

    On its plain meaning, this brief encounter is, of course, troubling. Forty-two kids were savagely killed by wild animals as retribution for childish insults. Believing that God would, should, or did cooperate with a man to do this, presents obvious difficulties. A response so severe and violent, brought against children, would be hard to believe of a cruel general or maniacal king, let alone a loving God. Before finding Kabbalah, this is the kind of story I personally would not have been able to believe.

    There are those who believe this biblical account is an authentic record of history. They have no other choice but to believe that the children deserved it. That may seem like an unlikely position to take but it is exactly the position of many religious commentators. The children are recast as a gang of ruffians, no longer little, but a band of outlaw teenagers. The taunts of “baldy”, have been reformed as death threats from an organized crime syndicate. Of course, none of that is explicitly contained in the Bible. The entire story is encompassed in two short verses, leaving little opportunity for back story.

    2 Kings 2:23-24
    23 And he went up from thence unto Bethel: and as he was going up by the way, there came forth little children out of the city, and mocked him, and said unto him, Go up, thou bald head; go up, thou bald head. 24 And he turned back, and looked on them, and cursed them in the name of the LORD. And there came forth two she bears out of the wood, and tare forty and two children of them.

    King James Version

    Each reader is, of course, free to interpret this story in whichever way they prefer. It’s not my point to say how a band of small children may or may not have deserved to be mauled by bears. This is an example of the type of bible story that begs for a better explanation than it normally gets. Admittedly, there probably is no way to rationally explain such an event that removes its many obvious difficulties. Those who attempt a reasonable explanation, inadvertently acknowledge this by the great lengths they often take to justify the story.

    Typically it will be pointed out that the Hebrew word נערים (na’arim), young males, translated here as “children”, can also be translated as “youths”. This word appears hundreds of times in the Bible, in many places presumably referring to young adults. Therefore, expositors often suggest, this verse should be understood to refer not to little children, but to teen-age ruffians; a youth gang. The problem with that explanation is that it conveniently overlooks what is actually written in the Hebrew scripture. It doesn’t just read נערים (na’arim), but נערים קטנים (na’arim qettanim), small young males.

    Kabbalah, in many ways, avoids this problem and others by employing a symbolic language for interpreting the scripture of the Hebrew Bible. According to Kabbalists, all of the Bible, or Torah, describes the nature of God, the ongoing story of creation, and the relationship of God with man and the created world. If a story about children being mauled by bears doesn’t seem to fall into any of those categories, it’s because it doesn’t. To Kabbalists, this is not a story of God directing a nightmarish punishment against incorrigible youth. This is a another story of God’s wisdom and the mechanisms of divine justice.

    Before explaining the Kabbalistic symbolism of 2 Kings 2:23-24, it will be helpful to give some overview of Kabbalah for the uninitiated. The central symbol of Kabbalah is the עץ כיים (etz chayim), the Tree of Life. This usually consists of 10 circles, arranged symmetrically, and joined by a series of 22 lines. These are said to represent the 10 ספירות (sephirot) — at times understood as emanations of the Godhead or as divine attributes — and the 22 mysterious paths that connect them to each other. It is these paths by which divine energy traverses the structure, descending to Earth as the providence of God, and rising toward Heaven as the righteous acts of man’s worship.

    Along with the perfectly balanced structure of the Tree of Life, there is another element to creation. Sometimes attributed to a “divine catastrophe,” this by-product of creation is known as the סטרה אכרה (sitra achra), the Other Side. This is the source and domain of all evil, imperfection, and corruption. The Other Side burst forth during the act of Creation, as the counter and opposite of the perfect balance and arrangement of the Tree of Life. Because of its disorder and imbalance, it was immediately overwhelmed by the divine outpouring, and its vessels were shattered, leaving broken husks as a remnant, and littering creation with shards.

    The sephirot, occupy a hierarchy, with the lowest, called Malkuth, sometimes being referred to as the Shekinah, dwelling, God’s presence in the world. The Shekinah, being the most distant from the Godhead, is therefore the most susceptible to the corruption of the material world. This also puts her, at times, within the reach of the influence of the dark forces of the Other Side, who, because they have no part in the “world to come,” hope to draw her to them and perhaps achieve for themselves some measure of permanence. It is by way of this world of symbolism that the Kabbalists extract their understanding of the verses in question.

    Those familiar with the Zohar, a principle text of Kabbalah, know that it rarely deals with a subject directly. In this case, it gives an excellent treatment, though with the Zohar’s peculiar style. The explanation opens with a conversation between rabbis discussing God’s Judgement. (Zohar 2:223b) One asks why God seems to withhold judgement of the wicked, allowing them to enjoy the benefits of their unrighteousness. The answer he receives suggests that God understands two distinct forms of judgement, one divine and the other worldly. (Zohar 2:224a) Wishing not to mingle divine Judgement with the “filthy” judgement of Earthly consequences, God allows the lower judgement to run its course in “the world that is”, and reserves divine Judgement for the “world that is coming.”

    According to the Zohar, “all is arranged” before God and “nothing is lost.” (ibid.) This being the case, supplications, even though ill-intended, if they are properly made, may still have their effect. Subject to the flawed pronouncements of worldly judgement, blessings rightfully meant for the Shekinah are temporarily misappropriated by the Other Side, who maintains a portion in “the world that is.” Ultimately however, offerings made from the Other Side are not legal tender in the “world that is coming.” This is where the Zoharic rabbi mentions the biblical account of Balak and Balaam.

    The story of Balak and Balaam (Num. 22:1-24:13) occurs as Israel has been wandering the desert following their flight from Egypt. When Israel takes over the land of the Amonites, Balak, the king of neighboring Moab, fears he’s next. He asks Balaam, a holy man, to curse Israel and secure victory for the Moabite army. They are unsuccessful. Moab is conquered by Israel. However, in their attempts to secure the favor of the God of Israel, they make a total of 42 sacrifices. This produces, the Zohar tells us, 42 outstanding claims.

    Though Balak’s sacrifices are ultimately rejected, he does, the rabbis say, succeed in visiting at least a portion of evil upon his enemy Israel. Soon after his sacrifices, the men of Israel stumble, mixing with Moabite women (Num. 25:1-5). When they begin worshiping Moabite gods, many are executed. Balak’s sacrifices do, by way of imperfect judgement, result in punishment for Israel. They will not, however, be acceptable in the “world that is coming”. The Other Side persisted in making these ill-founded claims until all was finally corrected in the time of Elisha.

    Elisha, “on the way up” to Bethel, encounters his nemeses, the little children, who taunt him, calling him “bald.” The rabbi explains that these נערים (na’arim) are so called here to suggest they are מנוערים (meno’arim), empty. Specifically they are devoid of the Torah and so lack any value. Relating words that sound alike or share root letters, as these two words do, is a common Kabbalistic technique. Indeed, he continues, they are קטנים (qettanim), little — that is, of little faith. They have come “out of the city”, which is explained to mean, they have left “the mystery of faith.” They symbolically represent the empty and faithless sacrifices of Balak, partially redeemed in this world but worthless in the world to come.

    It is these insignificant and empty claims that taunt Elisha. The rabbi translates ויפן אחרין (vayapen aharon), he turned back, as “he turned behind him.” The “him” is normally understood to refer to Elisha, i.e. “he turned behind himself” or “he turned around.” The rabbi however, tells us that “him” refers to the Shekinah. That is, Elisha turned behind the Shekinah and there he “saw” from the Other Side, the irredeemable offerings of Balak. The verb “saw” suggests more than simple vision. It’s the same verb used in the Creation account in Genesis when it is said that God “saw” what He had done that day and that it was good. Elisha saw these sacrifices, and that they had no value.

    The rabbi then uses another Kabbalistic tool. The same phrase, ויפן אחרין (vayapen aharon), “turned behind him,” is connected with a phrase used in the book of Numbers, ויפן אחרן (vayapen a’aron), “Aaron turned.” When Miriam and Aaron criticize Moses’s marriage to a Cushite woman (Num. 12:1), both are chastised for speaking against Moses, but Miriam is afflicted with a rash while Aaron, seems to avoid punishment. The rabbi references a tradition recorded in the Babylonian Talmud where it was said “Aaron turned for he was freed“. Here too, he says, the expression suggests that Elisha would be freed from punishment. Assured of this, he curses “the children”, dismissing Balak’s claim in the “world that is coming.”

    If this explanation has left you with more questions than answers, that is not surprising. This is why I said that Kabbalah gave me “a way to believe” and not “something to believe.” The understanding is still mine. The goal in interpreting words symbolically is not to unlock the secret meaning, but to give a foothold for their further consideration. In this example, I much prefer contemplating the divine or spiritual consequence of good deeds performed by bad people, than imagining how God or His prophet might justify the horrifying death of so many juvenile delinquents.

    This is the gift of Kabbalah. It doesn’t always give you an explanation, at least not a perfectly clear one. Instead it gives you something to contemplate. It gives you a way to consider God, the world He created, and mankind’s role in that world. It opens even the most mundane elements of both scripture and life, to a spiritual understanding.

    The interpretation above is not the only one. Highly esteemed Kabbalist and professor, Daniel Matt, gives a different interpretation. Balak and Balam usually worshiped foreign gods, i.e., the Other Side. According to Matt, when they directed their sacrifices to the God of Israel, the Other Side demanded restitution. He suggests the expression “he turned behind him” should be understood to mean that the Other Side, not Elisha, turned. When they did, they saw among Israel, those who were destined to evil. Elisha brokered the exchange of 42 of these as payment for the sacrifices rightfully belonging to the Other Side. Every interpretation gives something else to consider.

    Nor is the explanation here exhaustive or complete. It’s only a beginning. A lot is left to be explored. Elisha is headed to Bethel, meaning “house of God”. The children confront him while he is going up “by the way”, בדרך (b’derek). Kabbalah notes an interesting difference between “a way” and “a path” which adds another context. Elisha “curses” the children. The word קלל (qalel), “curse” means to minimize something as to make it small or insignificant. He curses them “by way of the name of the Lord,” which suggests magic power in the divine name. A separate magical tradition tells that Elisha summoned the bears by the magical use of God’s name and was punished. In Kabbalah, there are endless paths to explore and doors to unlock.

    It is this brand of contemplative Kabbalah which appealed to me and added faith and the beauty of scripture to my life. I hope it might do the same for others who want to receive more than they currently are from Holy Scripture and Bible study. Those who follow this speculative path, experience God by contemplating His divine attributes, His laws, and what has been revealed in Creation and by His holy prophets. By learning the symbols of Kabbalah and developing an understanding of how to apply them, both in your daily life and in your spiritual journey, every aspect of human experience takes on a divine significance and everywhere appear opportunities to worship, serve the Creator, and participate in the divine workings of the world.