[1] Ayin is the primal nothingness out of which Ein-sof weaves the being of itself and
the cosmos. At times, the Kabbalists identify both Ein-sof, the infinite God, and Keter (Crown) the
first Sefirah with nothingness.
The 13th
century Kabbalist David Ben Abraham ha-Lavan’s held that Ein-Sof is a completely simple totality,
beyond distinction or categorization and as such Ein-Sof cannot be identified as any thing in particular. According to David Ben Abraham Ein-Sof has “more being than any other being
in the world, but since it is simple, and all other simple things are complex
when compared with its simplicity, so in comparison it is called “nothing”
(G. Scholem, Kabbalah, p.
95). The Zohar states that when Ein Sof removes
Himself from His connection with creation
“He has no name of His own at all” and is thus Ayin or nothingness (Zohar III
225a, Raya Mehemma; Tishby, I, Wisdom of The Zohar , Vol. I, p.259). The Kabbalist, Azriel spoke of the complete interdependence and even
equivalence between Ein-sof and Ayin: “He who brings forth Being from Nought
is thereby lacking nothing, for the Being is in the Nought
after the manner of the Nought, and the Nought is in the Being after the manner [according to the
modality] of the Being. And the author
of the Book of Yetzirah
said: He made his Nought into his Being, and did not
say: He made the Being from the Nought. This teaches us that the Nought
is the Being and Being is the Nought
(Scholem,
G. Origins of the Kabbalah, p. 423). R. Joseph Ben Scholem
of Barcelona’s [c. 1300] held that there is no change, alteration, or
transformation, in short no creative act at all, in which the abyss of
nothingness is not crossed and for “a fleeting mystical moment becomes visible”
(Scholem, G. Major Trends in Jewish Mysticism, p.
217). For Joseph Ben Scholem, God, in order to be the creator, must have an
element of negation or nothingness as part of his very essence, and it is just
this nothingness which the deity calls upon in creating the world ex nihilo. There
is a “nothingness” implicit in all things, and this
nothingness is that thing’s participation in Ein-Sof. In referring to Ein-Sof, the Kabbalists are speaking about an entity so vast,
so all-inclusive, as to include, and be,
both everything and nothing. God, for the Kabbalah, is not only both
everything and nothing, he is completely identifiable
both with every void and every finite thing as well. If God were simply the “totality of all
things”, and not also nothingness and each finite thing as well, there would be
some things which were excluded from God’s essence, or which, although they are
included in God as parts, would be distinguishable from Him. On this view Ein-Sof
is nothing but is also all other things as well.
From an
existential point of view, contact with Ayin, or
nothingness is the ultimate religious
experience. According
to Azriel: “He
who prays must cast off everything that obstructs him, and must lead the world
back to its origin - literally to its Nought”.
And this contact with one’s origins in nothingness provides the self with the
“power for its own existence” (Scholem, Origins of
the Kabbalah, p. 416). “Nothingness”,
for the Kabbalists is the activator of the finite
world in general, and of human existence, in particular.
For further reflections on Ayin, see S. Drob: Ein-Sof, Nothingness and the Problem of
Creation Ex Nihilo
[2] Wonder and
Awe: The first value to be
derived from the Kabbalistic tree is one that spontaneously arises from a deep
contemplation of the world and an awareness of our ignorance of its origins,
giving rise to an experience of wonder
and awe at the miracle of creation. How utterly improbable, it seems
that anything whatsoever should exist at
all, that there should even be a state of affairs called “nothing” let alone
the fullness of nature, the totality of the human world, one’s own body and
consciousness, and an awareness of the totality of existence.
[3] Not knowing: For
the Kabbalists, the Infinite’s
association with Ayin,
nothingness, is one means of asserting divine unknowability.
Ein-sof, as nothing, is no-thing in
particular, and thus cannot be circumscribed by any concept or idea. While
“ignorance” is usually not thought of in this way, there is a supreme ethical value
in “not-knowing”. Those who believe that
they fully comprehend the nature and the ways of God and the inner workings of
the world are at great risk for rigidity, authoritarianism, dogmatism and
intolerance. The belief that one’s own conception of the divine plan is the
only true one gives rise to the notion that others are infidels, to be damned
and destroyed. We need not look beyond contemporary events to see the results
of such absolute knowledge. While the Kabbalah certainly purports to provide deep
insight into the inner workings of God and the world, such insight rests upon a
profound recognition of our ignorance of the ultimate nature of reality. Along
with the experience of wonder and awe at creation (what the theologian Rudolf Bultmann spoke of as an experience of the mysterium tremendum)
one should cultivate a deep sense of unknowing
and ignorance as one begins one’s mystical and theosophical quest. Such a
sense of unknowing leads to respect for, and openness to, others’ points of
view as well as to the very important realization that one can learn something
new from every person and every situation one encounters in life.
The
notion that truth involves unknowing and ignorance is a paradox that is often
neglected in spiritual teachings.
One often hears that one must develop an absolute certainty regarding one’s
relationship to God, one’s commitment to a particular teaching or even teacher.
There is certainly
something comforting and even spiritually uplifting about such
certainty, and it is (unfortunately) at the foundation of many if not most
spiritual paths. However, a path based on certainty is at best fragile and
incomplete and at worst open to arrogance and demagoguery.
[4] Self-nullification
(bittul ha-yesh):
The Kabbalists held that one should always strive to
nullify oneself before God. In common with other spiritual traditions, the
Kabbalah holds that the individual ego must be transcended in favor of a
mystical identification with the absolute. As noted above in connection with
our discussion of Ayin
(nothingness) one must cast off one’s attachments to self, world, and earthly
achievement, and return to one’s origins in nothingness. Only by doing so does
one gain the motive power for a renewed spiritual existence. How can this be
understood? On the one hand the Kabbalists are
speaking about a de-identification with one’s empirical self, of a
nullification the “self” that is subject to death and which (in ordinary
spiritual terms) is the subject of a hoped for personal immortality. When one
fully identifies with something wider than oneself; for example, a spiritual,
ethical, or creative quest, one’s attachment to one’s “ego” is diminished and
one’s personal self is made correspondingly bittul, i.e. null. If one cleaves
(devekut)
to God, or experiences a mystical, ecstatic union, with the divine, one has
again (in this case more radically) nullified oneself in favor of a higher
value. The recognition of one’s mortality, the confrontation with nothingness,
is the first step towards a mystical self-nullification. In the face of the
existential abyss one is prompted to identify oneself with something that
transcends finitude and death; for example, a creative venture, an ethical or
political cause, a spiritual community, and in making such an identification
one begins the process of self-nullification. If and when such a process is
complete one no longer wishes for personal immortality, the wheel (gilgul) of
reincarnation comes to an end, and one returns to the Ayin/Ei-nsof, the nothing-infinite,
which is one’s origins.
Self-nullification is
only frightening to those who feel they must cling to their own personality,
desires, and possessions. Indeed, the very experience of fear arises out of an identification with the finite self that is vulnerable to
loss. To the extent that one realizes that others are of equal or greater
significance and value than oneself, and to the extent that one applies one’s
energy in the service of others (and by this I mean anything, e.g. the environment,
a cause, a community, that is
part of the “not-me”) one transcends one’s fears, in particular
the fear one’s personal demise.
It is important,
however, to recognize that we are not required to simply abandon our desires,
our goals and personal quests. Rather such desires and quests must be
fulfilled, but always with the end in mind of placing that fulfillment into a
wider context or cause. Self-actualization is indeed a Kabbalistic ideal, but
the fully actualized self is one that has already moved beyond it-self. Indeed,
Schneur Zalman, the first Lubavitcher rebbe, tells us
that “there are two aspects in the service of the Lord. One seeks to leave its sheath of bodily
material. The second is the… aspect of
the drawing down of the divinity from above precisely in the various vessels in
Torah and the commandments (Schneur Zalman, Torah Or, p. 49, quoted in R. Elior, The Paradoxical Ascent to God, op. cit. p. 134).
According to the “Alter Rebbe”, while each of us must
strive to nullify ourselves
in ethical and spiritual service, we are also creatures of this world who must engage the world in such a manner that
Godliness is drawn into ourselves and the world around us.
[5] No Image of God: The Biblical
injunction against making a “graven image” of God was taken by the Kabbalists to mean that God is indeed unfathomable in His
essence and His nature can neither be circumscribed by thought nor articulated
in language. The Torah is clear, no image or likeness can be made of God (Ex
20:4; Deut 4:35). The prophet Isaiah
rhetorically asks “To whom, then, can you liken God? With what likeness will
you compare Him? (Isa. 40:18), and while the Bible
extols God’s “greatness (gedullah),
power (Gevurah),
beauty (tiferet),
victory (netzach),
majesty (Hod)…
Kingdom (malchut)
and other attributes (Chronicles
29:11), it is clear that no list of these attributes amounts to or enables us
to grasp the divine essence. While the Kabbalist’s spoke of the Sefirot as divine traits, correlating them
with the divine attributes enumerated in the Bible, they were clear that any
description of God was meant only as an “aid to the understanding” and “from
the human point of view”. According to the 13th century Kabbalist, Azriel of Gerona,
Ein-Sof cannot be an object of thought, let alone of speech, even
though there is an indication of it in everything, for there is nothing beyond
it. Consequently, there is no letter, no
name, no writing, and no word that can comprise it (Tishby,
The Wisdom of the Zohar. Vol. 1, p. 234).
In Tikkunei Zohar we read, “High above all and concealed beyond all
concealments, no thought can grasp you...” (Tikkunei Zohar, Intro. 17a-b). The Lurianic Kabbalists affirmed the
total unknowability of Ein Sof, ChayyimVital
informing us that the term Ein-sof
(Without End),
indicates that there is absolutely no way to
comprehend Him, either by thought or by contemplation, because He is completely
inconceivable and far removed from any kind of thought (Sefer Etz Chayyim
1:1; p. 21, Menzi and Padeh,
The Tree of Life, p. 6.
The first Lubavitcher rebbe, Schneur Zalman of Lyadi,
makes it clear that the unknowability of Ein-Sof
is not a function of the depth or difficulty of the concepts involved:
But it is not at all
proper to say concerning the Holy One, blessed be He, who transcends intellect
and wisdom, that it is impossible to apprehend Him because of the depth of the
concept, for He is not within the realm of comprehension at all (Schneur Zalman, Likutei Amarim-Tanya, Kehot
Bi-lingual edition, p. 327).
What value, might we ask, is taught by the proscription
against graven images and the consequent Jewish and Kabbalistic traditions that
the divine essence can neither be expressed nor conceived? That the absolute is
unknowable and inexpressible serves as a caution against human arrogance. If
God is unfathomable in His essence, who are we to think that we can define and
circumscribe the absolute? Who are we to
think that we have the answers to the ultimate problems of heaven and earth? And
who are we to impose our views on these matters on others? The injunction against
graven images teaches us “epistemological humility”, the value of saying “I don’t
know” and the need to be wary of any and all dogma. In holding that we cannot
know and define God, the Jewish tradition close one possibility, but opens a
myriad of others: the possibility to multiple points of view, spiritual and
intellectual creativity, “unknowing”, and infinite dialog on the great
questions of religion and philosophy.
[7] Infinite
Dialog: Ein-sof is said by the Kabbalists to be “without end,” to be both everything and
nothing, to include within itself all oppositions and contradictions, to be both
the creator of and created by humankind, and to be the source of both faith and
unbelief. As such Ein-sof is not only infinite in its being, but the
attributions by which it is characterized and understood are potentially
infinite as well. Indeed, if Ein-sof is infinite and serves as the
origin and container for all, why should dialog, questioning, speculation and
doubt about it ever come to an end? If one could circumscribe Ein-sof in
thought, if one “had all the answers,” and could provide a full and
comprehensive account of God, the world, and humanity’s role within the cosmos,
such an account would necessarily be of some delimited thing, and could not be
about Ein-sof, the infinite. Ein-sof, both by definition and by
virtue of Kabbalistic doctrine (viz. the notion of Tzimtzum) can only be limited by itself.
The primary distinction
between the old and the new Kabbalah rest upon the latter’s distinctively
modern, even post-modern, view of the nature of divine infinity. The old
Kabbalah, in spite of its pronouncements that both Torah and cosmos are subject
to an infinity of transformations and interpretations, and in spite of its
integration of important foreign (e.g. Greek, Gnostic and likely even
“eastern”) elements into its theoretical framework, is nevertheless a closed
system of ideas, one whose boundaries are set by the Jewish religion, and, in
particular, the halakha,
Jewish law, by the rabbis and tradition, by a set of incorrigible beliefs
regarding such topics as at the authorship, authority and transmission of
sacred texts (e.g. the Torah and, in particular, the Zohar), by the distinction between Jew and Gentile, man and woman,
kosher and non-kosher, scared and profane, the “true” and the false, by ideas
regarding the coming of the messiah and the end of days, the nature (and
precise penance) for certain sexual transgressions—the list could, of course,
be continued indefinitely. This, of course, could not have been otherwise, as
the Kabbalah (however we date its origins) arose at a time when all thought and
experience was bound and limited by an inherited and largely unquestioned and
unquestionable world-view. What is remarkable is the extent to which the kabbalists at times approached the ideal of critical, open
thinking, something, of course, that worried the rabbinic authorities and made
them place severe restrictions on kabbalistic
studies.
The notion of infinite
dialog means that each of the assumptions of the traditional Jewish and
Kabbalistic world-view are open to doubt, critique and/or support as the case
may be. However, those who lived within the “system” of the old Kabbalah, as
well as those who attempt to do so today, live(d) within a matrix of meaning
that, except within certain narrow parameters, knows no doubt, challenge or
“outside.” Like a computer program that assures that whatever one types--
however free it may seem to the typist—always remains “within the program,” the
old Kabbalah set (and continues to set) profound limits on what one could
think, say or do, even as it opened up spiritual and intellectual treasures for
its adherents.
The New Kabbalah, on the
other hand, utilizes the very terms and symbols of the old Kabbalah in order
to, as it were, move the Kabbalah beyond itself to a form of thought that
challenges, doubts, and inverts itself, that admits what is outside of itself,
and sees this outside as part of its very core; indeed which sees doubt,
atheism and loss of faith, as well as revelation, mystical unity and trust in
God, as integral to spiritual life and theology and essential for a
comprehensive world-view. The New Kabbalah makes use of those Kabbalistic
symbols and ideas, such as Ein-sof (the Infinite), Shevirat
ha-Kelim (the Breaking of the vessesls), ha-achdut ha-shvaah (coincidence of opposites), and the infinite
interpretability of texts, which, when they are provided a rational
(philosophical and/or psychological) interpretation, inexorably lead into
infinite dialogue and the open economy of thought.
Infinite dialog means
giving a genuine hearing to the voices of all religions, philosophies and
cultures, western and eastern, “primitive” and “modern,” Jewish and non-Jewish;
thus underlying the importance of comparative studies, such as those I have
attempted to undertake in my book, Kabbalistic
Metaphors. Infinite dialog and comparative religion and philosophy is seen as the only viable approach to Ein-sof in our own time. Any
attempt to re-parochialize ourselves, to see Ein-sof, the Kabbalah, and religion in
general in either/or or authority based terms is a self-deluded effort to
return to a womb, from which, by virtue of our having been born into the modern
world we have, of necessity, already, and permanently, emerged. The Kabbalah, particularly as it is expressed
in the theosophy of Isaac Luria, offers us the rare
opportunity from within a religious and mythical system to escape from the
rigidity and dogmatism of traditional religion and emerge into an open economy
of thought, without having to, at the same time, jettison religion, myth and
symbol in the process. Those, such as Moshe Idel, who
have noted the striking affinities between Kabbalistic and post-modern thought,
point us clearly in the direction of this opportunity.
[11] Infinite Interpretation: Moshe Idel points out that as early as the second half of the 13th
century certain Kabbalists adopted the view that the
Bible contains an infinite number of meanings. (Idel, Absorbing Perfections p. 83). The Kabbalists based their hermeneutics of infinity on such
factors as (1) the indeterminacy in pronunciation of the Torah text which is written
without vowels and spacing, thus permitting an indefinite number of variant
readings, (2) the notion that God’s
infinite wisdom cannot be
circumscribed by a finite number of interpretations, (3) the idea that the
Hebrew letters, the constituent elements of the Torah (which are also the
constituent elements of the world) could be recombined
in an infinite number of ways to create new meanings and entities, (4) the
notion that each word in the Torah points to one or more of the Sefirot, the divine archetypes, whose
combinations thereby create new meanings, (5) the possibility of adducing an
infinite number of meanings through Gematria, the idea that each letter in the Torah, and thus
each word has a specific numerical equivalent, making it interchangeable with
words or phrases that yield an equal number, and (6) the notion that with each
changing moment, the worlds and thus the significance of the scared texts, are
altered, and (7) since the souls of different interpreters are each informed by
a different source amongst an infinity of worlds, each interpreter brings a
unique interpretive perspective to the scared text. However, unlike
contemporary deconstructionists, who hold that interpretive possibilities of a
text are infinite because the meaning of the text is indeterminate, the Kabbalists held that
the infinity of interpretations exist within the text, as part of the divine,
authorial intent. It is unclear whether the two views of infinity yield a
practical difference, as any interpretation, if it is accepted on other
grounds, can be (and as a practical matter, generally is) construed as a discovery of an additional layer of
textual meaning. Of significance in the present context is that for the Kabbalists, enormous, if not infinite, interpretive
latitude was a value they justified on a variety of hermeneutic and theological
grounds. The value of infinite
interpretability is an important corollary to the value of infinite dialogue, and each are critical foundations or roots of the New Kabbalistic
Tree.
For further reflections on infinite
interpretability, see
S. Drob: The Torah of the Tree of
Life: Kabbalistic Reflections on the Hermeneutics of Infinity in Scholem, Idel, Dan, Fine and Tishby.
[12] Coincidence of Opposites: The idea that
opposing, even apparently contradictory ideas, attitudes and emotions, should
be entertained simultaneously, understood as interdependent, and ultimately
reconciled, is one of the supreme contributions of mystical thought (and Jewish
mystical thought in particular) to humankind. That such dialectical
conciliation should be pursued as a divine value in our intellectual,
spiritual, and personal lives, follows from the Kabbalistic/Hasidic principle
that God Himself is a unity of opposites who reconciles within Himself all
contradictions.
The Kabbalists use the term, achdut hashvaah, to denote that Ein-sof, the Infinite God, is a “unity
of opposites,” one that reconciles within itself even those aspects of the
cosmos that are opposed to or contradict one another. In the 13th century the Kabbalist Azriel spoke of Ein Sof as
unifying within itself both being and nothingness and as being the common root
of both faith and unbelief” (Scholem. Origins
of the Kabbalah,
pp. 441-2). For Azriel, the Sefirot, the archetypes through which
the world was created and is sustained, embody a union of opposites, a union
that actually provides the energy for the cosmos (Azriel,
The Explanation of the Ten Sefirot. In Dan, The
Early Kabbalah, p. 94.) According to Azriel: “The
nature of sefirah is the synthesis of
every thing and its opposite. For if they did not
possess the power of synthesis, there would be no energy in anything. For that which is light is not dark and that
which is darkness is not-light” (ibid). For Azriel,
the coincidence of opposites is also a property of the human psyche; “we should
liken their (the Sefirot) nature to
the will of the soul, for it is the synthesis of all the desires and thoughts
stemming from it. Even though they may
be multifarious, their source is one, either in thesis or antithesis (ibid.)”
The notion that God, man, and the world are each a unity of
opposites is a theme that is present in several kabbalistic
sources, including Sefer-Yetzirah,
Sefer ha-Bahir and
the early Kabbalistic the Source of
Wisdom. The Zohar, in declaring that “He who ‘keeps’ the precepts of the
Law and ‘walks’ in God’s ways…‘makes’ Him who is above” (Zohar III, 113a. Sperling and Simon,
The Zohar, Vol. 5, p. 153) suggests a coincidentia oppositorum between the ideas that God creates man and
man creates God. Chayyim Vital, the great disciple of
R. Isaac Luria, spoke of the divine light of creation
as a single hashvaah
(unity of opposites) which is called the Light of the Infinite (. Chayyim Vital, Sefer Etz Chayyim
(Warsaw, 1891), “Sha’are ha-Hakdamot”).
Quoted in Elior, R. The
Paradoxical Ascent to God p. 68) While Vital’s
account suggests a unity of opposites in the godhead only prior to creation, a close examination of the major Lurianic symbols expresses a coincidence of opposites
between ideas that are thought to contradict one another in ordinary thought
and discourse. For example, Luria held that the
divine principle of the cosmos is both Ein-sof
(without end) and Ayin
(absolute nothingness), that creation is both a hitpashut (emanation) and a Tzimtzum (contraction), that Ein-sof is both the creator of the world
and is itself created and completed through Tikkun
ha-Olam, the spiritual, ethical and “world restoring” acts of humanity, and,
finally, that the Sefirot are both
the originating elements of the cosmos and only fully realized when the cosmos
is displaced and shattered (via Shevirat ha-Kelim, the Breaking of the Vessels).
The doctrine of coincidentia
oppositorum, achieves its fullest Jewish expression in the philosophy of
the Chabad Hasidim, where it becomes
the governing principle for both God and the world. For Chabad, all things, both infinite and
finite, involve a unity or coincidence of opposites. One of the early Chabad
thinkers, R. Aaron Ha-Levi Horowitz of Staroselye
(1766-1828), a pupil of the first Chabad- Lubavitcher rabbi, Schneur Zalman
(1745-1813) held that “the revelation of anything is actually through its
opposite,”( Elior, R. The Paradoxical Ascent to God p. 64.) and that “all created things in the world are hidden within
His essence, be He blessed, in one potential, in coincidentia oppositorum...” Elior,
“Chabad: The Contemplative Ascent to God”, p. 163. Schneur Zalman
‘s son, Rabbi Dov Baer, wrote “within
everything is its opposite and also it is truly revealed as its opposite.”
The coincidence of opposites that characterizes God,
humanity and the world can be approximately understood by the simultaneous
adoption of two points of view. As put by the founder of the Chabad movement,
Schneur Zalman of Lyadi (1745-1813): “(Looking)
upwards from below, as it appears to eyes of flesh, the tangible world seems to
be Yesh and
a thing, while spirituality, which is above, is an aspect of Ayin
(nothingness). (But looking) downwards
from above the world is an aspect of Ayin, and everything which is linked downwards and descends
lower and lower is more and more Ayin and is considered as naught truly as nothing and
null.” (Schneur Zalman Likutei Torah, Devarim, fol. 83a.;
Elior, The Paradoxical Ascent to God, p.
137-8. For Chabad, it is indeed simultaneously true that God is the one reality
that creates an illusory world, and that the world, in particular humankind, is
the one reality that gives actuality to an otherwise empty, if not illusory,
God. As Azriel suggests, Ein-sof is the broadest of all possible unities that simultaneously
encompasses each of these seemingly contradictory points of view.
In the life of the intellect and the spirit, and even in the
daily life of human relationships and emotions, we frequently arrive at a
juncture where we seem to believe and indeed “live” two or more contradictory
attitudes, feelings or ideas. Our tendency is to assume that one pole of our
“contradiction” is good and true while the other is wrong (even evil) and
false. The Kabbalistic principle of achdut hashvaah asks us to desist from this polarizing tendency and
to broaden our intellect, soul and very being to the point where we can contain
each pole of the opposition, and perhaps even understand their complete
interdependence.
For further reflections on the
Coincidence of Opposites,see S. Drob: The Coincidence
of Opposites In Jewish Mysticism.
Those interested in the
application of the coincidentia oppositorum idea to the problem of
arriving at a comprehensive understanding of the human psyche may want to
read: S. Drob: Fragmentation
In Contemporary Psychology: A Dialectical Solution.
[33] Joy (Sameach): In Judaism, sameach, “joy” or
“happiness” is actually a divine commandment! The Torah (Deutoronomy
26:11) commands” You shall rejoice with all the good that the Almighty has
given you.” The Zohar (I:183b) says that “the Shekinah does not dwell amid sad surroundings, but only
where there is cheerfulness” (Zohar, Sperling &
Simon edition, Vol, 2, p. 190-191). While the Kabbalist of Safed engaged in
many ascetic practices they were clear that a life of joy was a prerequisite
for both mystical experience and world-redemption. Chayyim
Vital held that nothing impedes mystical inspiration …as much as the quality of
sadness.” The founder of the Hasidic movement, Israel Baal Shem Tov, the “Besht” held that “One
should always be in a state of joy,” and indeed the entire Chasidic movement
can be characterized by its unremitting effort to re-inject joy into a religious
life that had become routine, obsessive and over-intellectualized. The Hasidic
master Nachman of Bratslav
went so far as to hold that the raising of the sparks and the overcoming of
evil and darkness in both the lower and upper worlds results primarily from
humankind’s joyful state of mind.
Just as God is said to “rejoice in His works” (Psalms
104:31) humanity, by participating in the creation and perfection of the world
(Tikkun ha-Olam)
experiences a joy that mirrors that of divinity. Psychotherapy, as I understand
it, is primarily directed to promoting the individual’s expression of his/her
unique creativity, and joy and happiness is an inevitable byproduct of such
creativity and self-actualization. Nevertheless, one must also consciously work
on cultivating personal happiness, and the Jewish tradition has a great deal to
say about how this can be achieved. Our sages
prescription for happiness actually traverses several of our contemporary
schools or paradigms in psychology, including the cognitive, behavioral and the
humanistic-existential.
At the risk of gross over-simplification I will try to very
briefly hint at some of what the Jewish, particularly the Jewish mystical,
tradition offers as a “prescription” for human happiness.
(1) On a purely behavioral level the tradition enjoins us to endeavor to
always maintain a pleasant countenance and deportment in each of our
interactions with others. (2) From a more “cognitive” point of view, we are
told not to allow our happiness to become dependent upon any factor over which
we have limited or no control (e.g. wealth, possessions)—this is implied in the
Kabbalist Elijah de Vidas’
axiom that a person should derive more pleasure from serving God and performing
mitzvoth than from obtaining all the
money on earth. Indeed a person should (3) seek out and attempt to enhance the
possibilities of creativity, joy and tikkun in each situation, event and person he/she encounters
on life’s path. (4) A corollary to this is the Jewish maxim that a person’s
pleasure should derive from what one can creatively give to others and do to
improve the world rather than from what one can obtain for oneself. (5) A
person should strive to always take pleasure in the gift of life itself and the
myriad details of the world’s existence. (6) The Kabbalists
held that great joy can be derived from developing those character traits that
are implied by each of the Sefirot,
e.g. knowledge, wisdom, kindness, compassion, etc. and in particular by
cultivating humility, avoiding honor, and limiting anger, hatred and
resentment. Finally, one should (7) practice Tzimtzum, (and refrain from loshon hora—malicious
gossip) by limiting. measuring and controlling one’s
malicious speech, as so much that is said thoughtlessly leads to unhappiness
both for others and oneself. However, an individual should never attempt to
force these conditions upon him or herself, particularly in the absence of
efforts to understand his/her own desires and enhance his psychological
openness and creativity; rather these traits and behaviors should grow
organically in the context of what I have been describing as the
psychotherapeutic attitude: the open economy of thought and feeling that leads
to both self-actualization and self-transcendence. As I said just a few moments
ago, the infinite dialog and respect for the ‘other’ in which psychotherapy
consists leads beyond the “personal ego” and also beyond the acquisitive
conception of happiness that dictates most people’s lives. It is in this
context that the “prescription” for happiness that I have just described can
take permanent root and effect. (The preceding discussion has been adapted from
an interview with the author on the subject of Kabbalah and Psychotherapy that
appears on this website: An Interview with
Sanford Drob on Kabbalah and Psychotherapy.).
[55] Compassion (Rachamim): The
Zohar tells us that God “in creating the world, meant it
to be based on justice (din).” However, a world based on pure justice could not
endures, so “God screened it with mercy, which tempers pure justice and
prevents it from destroying the world” (Zohar
I:180b, The Zohar, Sperling
& Simon, I, p. 190). Biblical tradition emphasized God’s compassion. In the
Psalms (78:38) we read that God is “full of compassion, forgives iniquity, and
does not destroy.” Humanity is commanded to be like God in showing compassion
and mercy to others (“Show mercy and compassion every man to his brother,
“Zech. 7:9; “I desire mercy, not (animal) sacrifice: Hos.
6:6). When one is merciful and compassionate to others it “does good to one’s
own soul” Prov. 11;17).b The rabbinic tradition
inferred 13 divine attributes of mercy from Exodus 34:6-7:
The Safed
Kabbalist, Moses Cordovero,
considered the trait of compassion/mercy to be of such importance that he
described as an essential moral lesson to be gleaned from the Sefirot Chochmah
(Wisdom) and Binah,
“Understanding.” For Cordovero, a basic function of
Wisdom is to extend compassion and mercy to all created things whether they be
mineral, plant, animal or human (Palm Tree of Deborah, Ch. III), and the basic
function of the Understanding is to “sweeten all judgments” and neutralize the bitterness
of divine decrees, so that humankind can repent and rectify each of its flaws
(Palm Tree of Deborah, Ch. IV). Cordovero held that
just as God is merciful to humankind, we should always show compassion and
mercy, especially to those who offend or provoke us, because even they have
good qualities that should soothe our anger and cause our heart to delight in
their virtue. (Ch. I. Attribute 6). Just
as God holds a penitent in higher esteem than the totally righteous (Talmud Ber. 34b), those who have offended, provoked, and angered
us but who later come to us in peace
should be received with greater kindness and love than had they never offended
us at all (Ch. I, Attribute 7). Cordovero’s
conception of compassion extends especially to the environment: one “should not
uproot anything that grows, unless it is necessary, nor kill any living thing
unless it is necessary,” and even such necessary killing is lamentable and is, Cordovero tells us [in contradistinction to the rabbinic
tradition], “the reason for despising food”[!] [Cordovero here appears to be in agreement with the 20th
century philosopher J.N. Findlay who I once heard painfully voice the view that
while it was natural for tigers and other carnivores to kill and eat
their prey it was nevertheless thoroughly lamentable and in some deep
axiological sense, wrong. Cordovero seems to extend this view to all eating
whatsoever!]
