Tag: Kabbalah

  • 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.

  • Who, What, When, Where, Why: the Sephirot

    A Who, What, When, Where, and Why of Kabbalah’s defining symbols

    If you’ve had any introduction to Kabbalah, you’ve likely encountered the word sephirot (pronounced sphere oat). More than just central to the symbolism of Kabbalah, the Sephirot are arguably its defining characteristic. A source that doesn’t mention or refer to the Sephirot, can’t easily be classified as Kabbalah. Conversely, since it is only used in this context, the simple appearance of the word in any document almost automatically makes it Kabbalistic.

    Who?

    Who came up with the Sephirot?
    Short answer: Medieval Jewish Rabbis

    The idea of the sephirot developed over centuries, with various, often anonymous, contributors. The word itself is mysterious and is first used by the unknown author of the Sefer Yetzirah. The sephirot were developed further in the pseudonymous book Bahir and a handful of other early works.

    Most important among the writers of these manuscripts, and thought by some to be the actual author of the Bahir, Rabbi Isaac the Blind outlined a preliminary structure and order. His student, Azriel of Gerona, added key developments, particularly the idea of Ein Sof. This foundation would be expanded upon, next by Spanish writers such as Joseph Gikatilla and Moshe de Leon, and later, by circles in Israel including Moshe Cordovero and Isaac Luria in Safed, and Nahmanides in Jerusalem.

    What?

    What are the Sephirot?
    Short answer: Symbols

    First and foremost, the sephirot are symbols. They should not be thought of as things that exist in time and space. Part of what makes them difficult to explain and understand, is the same thing that makes them so useful and enduring. Because of their incredible versatility as symbols, they have been adapted to a mind-boggling number of interpretations. However much of the symbolism is arcane and requires more explanation than it normally receives.

    Almost always ten in number, they, together, represent the primary apparatus by which God achieves Creation and maintains His presence in the world. The sephirot effectively form a connection between the transcendent God above and the imminent God present in every facet of creation. The nature of the sephirot is mysterious. They are finite but not material. They exist as a part of the process of creation but they themselves are not created.

    The sephirot are often depicted as divine attributes or features of God. His mercy, for example, or His right hand. The most popular depiction of them is the arrangement known as the Etz Chaim, the Tree of Life. This symbol shows the 10 sephirot arrayed symmetrically, in three vertical columns.

    The names and common explanations given for them are, from highest to lowest, as follows.

    Keter (כתר), the first, is the Hebrew word for crown. This represents God’s will, known only to Him.
    The second is named Hochmah (חכמה), wisdom. This is called father and beginning.
    The third is Binah (בינה), understanding, and the first female aspect of God, called mother.
    The fourth is Hesed (חסד), mercy and known occasionally as Gedulah (גדולה), greatness. This is associated with the patriarch Abraham.
    The fifth is Geburah (גבורה), strength, known occasionally as Din (דין), judgment. Associated with the patriarch Isaac, it’s sometimes called fear.
    The sixth is Tiferet (תפארת), beauty. This is also known as compassion or truth and depicted as the divine Bridegroom. It represents the sun and is associated with the Patriarch Jacob.
    The seventh is Netsach (נצח), victory or endurance. This along with the eighth, Hod (היד), glory, are said to represent God’s prophecy and are at times called his legs.
    The ninth is Yesod (יסוד), foundation. This often symbolizes righteousness.
    The tenth and last is Malkuth (מלכות), kingdom. This is also known as the Bride, and represents the Shekinah, God’s presence in the world. It is also associated with the moon.

    When?

    When do the idea of the Sephirot take shape?
    Short answer: The Middle Ages

    If you are disposed to believe the legendary account, Kabbalah traces back to Moses (or even Adam). However the consensus of modern scholarship puts the composition of the earliest relevant document, the Sefer Yetzirah, somewhere between the first and third centuries A.D. This by itself does not tell the whole story.

    The text clearly underwent more than one major revision. It may even be that it was originally a book of grammar and had nothing to do with Kabbalah at all. Edits and redactions over time produced the three distinct versions which are known today, no manuscript of which predates the 8th century. Though some have speculated, scholars are unable to agree with certainty as to which parts are earlier or later, or when the portions mentioning the sephirot were added.

    The Bahir is another early source in the development of the sephirot. Legend attributes the work to Rabbi Nechunya ben HaKanah who lived in the second century A.D. Today, it is thought to be a medieval product, written in the 11th or 12th century. This is roughly contemporary with the work of Isaac the Blind and Azriel of Gerona who advanced the concept of the sephirot before the center of Kabbalah shifted to Spain in the 13th century. By the time of the Zohar, about 1292, the sephirot had essentially reached full development.

    Where?

    Where did this happen?
    Short answer: France and Spain and then Israel

    Many of the early sources mentioned above are traditionally ascribed to authors who lived in ancient Jerusalem or elsewhere in the biblical world. The earliest individuals who we can identify with any degree of certainty, appear in Provence, a region of Southern France, during the 12th century. This is the group that produced Isaac the Blind and other members of the so-called Iyyun circle.

    This influence reached nearby Castille and Catalonia which became centers of Kabbalah in the 13th century and it’s there, in modern-day Spain, that the sephirot, for the most part, achieve their classic development from Gikatilla, de Leon, and others.

    Following the expulsion of Jews from Spain in 1492, a new center of Kabbalah emerged in the city of Safed, Israel. This is the setting for Cordovero, the great Lion of Kabbalah Isaac Luria, and his foremost student and the main source of his Luria’s teaching, Chaim Vital.

    Why?

    Why did they come up with the Sephirot in the first place?
    Short answer: To reconcile old ideas with new ones

    To understand why the sephirot evolved as an idea, it is helpful to consider three forces influencing Jewish thought at the time. There were the philosophers led by Maimonides. Their ideas about the Divine, exposed to classical Greek philosophy, had moved away from the mythology of the past. They described a transcendent Deity, the true nature of whom was unknowable and whose essence was beyond human comprehension.

    Against this were the rabbis, who maintained the popular religion and were, to a degree, invested in the traditional mythology. They retained the national God who provided for and was involved in the everyday lives of His chosen people. This personal God, who answered prayers and revealed Himself to prophets, may have been, intellectually, less satisfying, but was, practically speaking, more available, and emotionally, infinitely more comforting.

    To these two contributors can be added a third – mystics. This group was by far the smallest, but their influence was significant. They had developed a symbolic interpretation of the book of Ezekiel that supported their unique experiential approach to God. They would inspire the style by which Kabbalists would blend the competing ideas of the philosophers and rabbis. Symbolically, the Kabbalists represented a dynamic Godhead that included both the entirely transcendent God of the philosophers and the present God who dwelled among humans and spoke directly to them.

    The Sephirot were the symbols that made such a reconciliation of ideas possible.

    For more details

    For more details, please see some of my other pieces coming soon.

  • 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.