CHAPTER 10    The Middle Ages: Early Kabbalah - The Mystic Heart of Judaism


CHAPTER 10
The Middle Ages: Early Kabbalah

The Bahir
IN RECENT YEARS, THE SPIRITUAL MOVEMENT called Kabbalah has spread globally and become popularized as a path to enlightenment. The term Kabbalah means “receiving,” implying a teaching that has been received or transmitted from generation to generation. It had its origins in twelfth-century Provençe, in southern France, with the appearance of a short, anonymous work called the Sefer ha-bahir (Book of Brilliance). The Bahir gives a fascinating portrayal of the nature of God, the soul, and the creation through an opaque symbolism encapsulated in brief narratives and parables.

The Bahir’s authorship has mystified scholars for decades, and even today there are only theories about how it came to be written and by whom. Some consider it an oddly truncated or mutilated version of a much longer text, perhaps assembled in incorrect order. Today many scholars believe that it was written in Provençe in the late twelfth century by one or more mystics who were reshaping older materials in the light of their own spiritual experiences, using terminology and a conceptual framework drawn from the gnosticism of antiquity and Neoplatonist philosophy. Certain pieces are thought to have originated in Babylonia in the ninth and tenth centuries.

The orthodox scholar and kabbalist Aryeh Kaplan proposed a different origin. He takes the authorship of the book, or at least some of its layers, at face value, from within the circle of the legendary Rabbi Nehuniah ben ha-Kanah, a Talmud scholar who was a disciple of Rabbi Akiva in the second century. (His name means “son of the staff” – the staff being a common metaphor for the prophet or messianic leader in late prophetic writings.) In the Greater Heikhalot text of the merkavah period, one of Rabbi Nehuniah’s disciples describes how his master guided him through the higher realms, teaching him about the heavenly palaces and imparting the secret of the names of the angels guarding their gates. Kaplan writes:

A clear picture emerges of Rabbi Nehuniah as a master of the mystical arts and teacher of his entire generation. In one place, the Heikhalot describes how he taught the correct method for projecting oneself into the supernal universes. Sitting before him as disciples were the luminaries of his time: Rabbis Simon ben Gamaliel, Eliezer the Great, Akiva, Jonathan ben Uzziel, and many others. When there was a decree to kill the sages, it was Rabbi Nehuniah who ascended to heaven to ascertain the reason.237

Nehuniah’s name occurs only once in the Bahir, in the first passage, in a veiled message to maintain the secrecy of the teachings discussed in the book. Elsewhere in the text, a Rabbi Amorai is referred to. Historically, there was no Rabbi Amorai, but since Amorai means “speakers,” Kaplan concludes that this was a pseudonym for Nehuniah. Other prominent sages mentioned in the text were Rabbi Rahumai and Rabbi Berakhia. Rahumai became the master of the circle after Nehuniah’s death, and Berakhia succeeded Rahumai. Nehuniah’s mystical school was active during the entire talmudic period, according to Kaplan.

It is significant to note that whoever the author was, he used the format of the master in discussion with his group of disciples as a vehicle to explain the transmission of his esoteric teachings. He does not just publish the principles he wants the book to convey, he puts them in the mouths of a group of mystics – great rabbis and mystics of previous eras – some real, some legendary, and some perhaps fictional. This was a common technique in the spiritual literature of antiquity, which probably originated as a way of avoiding too much scrutiny of teachings that could have been deemed heretical, and giving these texts the legitimacy of tradition. It was also a way of preserving the secrecy of teachings considered dangerous for the spiritually immature.

On looking at the Bahir, what stands out is the use of parables and allegories with a repeating cast of characters: the king, queen, princess, prince, palace, kingdom, and so forth. We also find in the Bahir, for the first time in Judaism, a division of the divinity into male and female polarities; thus the Shekhinah, synonymous with the glory as a projection of the divine power, is now clearly feminine. She is portrayed as a princess, the king’s “daughter from the side of the light.”

What is the meaning of “from its [the glory’s] place”?238 Because no one knows its place. This is like a princess who came from afar, and nobody knew where she came from. When they saw that she was a fine lady, beautiful, and just in all that she did, they said: “She undoubtedly was taken from the side of the light, for her deeds give light to the world.”239 Then they asked her: “Where are you from?” She answered: “From my place.” They said: “If so, the people of your place must be great! Blessed are you and blessed is your place!”240

An important but simple revelation in the Bahir is that while people say that they want to find God, they don’t look for him where he resides, which is within themselves. This is stated cryptically:

People want to see the King, but they don’t even know where to find his house. First they [must] ask, “Where is the King’s house?” Only then can they ask, “Where is the King?”241

Elsewhere in the Bahir, we learn that the heart has “thirty-two paths of wisdom” hidden within it.242 In Jewish mysticism, the concept of the thirty-two paths is a symbolic representation of the stages of the spiritual journey to God-realization. The number 32 comes from the 10 numbers and the 22 letters of the Hebrew alphabet. Wisdom, or hokhmah, is a reference to the divine word, the projection of God’s will. Thus there are thirty-two paths of wisdom within oneself leading to the experience of God.

Other important symbols used in the Bahir, which could have a gnostic origin, are the life-giving tree and the All (Hebrew: malei, fullness). In fact, Dan comments that the All is a literal translation of the Greek pleroma, which contains everything and is the source of everything. It is from where everything emanates and is the highest spiritual realm. From it the souls descend to earth, and eventually they return there. From it, the divine powers or stages of His will are emanated in sequence. As the symbolism of the Kabbalah developed, the term sefirot was used for these emanations.* In the Bahir, these powers are more frequently called God’s ma’amarot (utterances) or midot (qualities).

I am the One who planted this tree in order that all the world should delight in it. And in it, I spread All. I called it All because all depend on it, all emanate from it, and all need it. To it they look, for it they wait, and from it, souls fly in joy. Alone was I when I made it. Let no angel rise above it and say, “I was before you.” I was also alone when I spread out my earth, in which I planted and rooted this tree. I made them rejoice together, and I rejoiced in them.243

Said Rabbi Rehumei: From what you say, may one infer that what was needed for this world, the Holy One, praised be He, was created before the heavens? He said to him: Yes. To what may this be likened? To a king who wanted to plant a tree in his garden. He searched the entire garden to find a spring with flowing water to nourish it, but he could not find one. He then said: “I will dig for water, and bring forth a spring to nourish the tree.” He dug and brought forth a spring flowing with living water, and then he planted the tree, which bore fruit. It was rooted successfully, because the roots were always watered from the spring.244

And what is this tree that you speak of? He said to him: It refers to the powers of the Blessed Holy One, in graded order, one above the other; and they are like a tree. Just as a tree, when it is watered, bears fruit, so the Holy One, by means of water, increases the powers of the tree. And what is the water of the Blessed Holy One, praised be He? It is wisdom. And this also refers to the souls of the righteous. They fly from the spring to the great channel, and ascend and attach themselves to the tree.245

Another principle the Bahir introduces is reincarnation, which is more fully developed in later Kabbalah. Although the subject is only briefly discussed in earlier rabbinic texts, it is hinted at in the rabbinic mishnah Pirkei Avot (Ethics of the Fathers) in almost the same language as the Bahir, which says:

Why is it that there is a righteous person who enjoys good, and there is a righteous person who suffers affliction? It is because in the latter case that righteous person was formerly wicked, and he is now suffering punishment.… I do not refer to misdeeds in the course of the person’s life. I refer to the fact that that person pre-existed prior to his present life.… How long does this go on? He said to them: For a thousand generations.246

First kabbalists in Provençe and Gerona
At the same time as the German Hasidim were sharing their esoteric teachings with followers living in northern Europe, there was a flourishing of mystical activity in the great talmudic academies of Provençe. Narbonne, Posquieres, and Lunel are a few of the cities where Jews gathered to study Bible, Talmud, and other texts of antiquity, and pursue the mystic path. Scholars still do not know what triggered this intense mystical ferment among highly respected legal and biblical scholars like Rabbis Abraham ben David, Jacob of Lunel, Isaac the Blind, and Yehuda ben Yakar, but they conjecture that there was a unique confluence of mystical, intellectual, and cultural influences that created the right soil for this extraordinary movement to grow in.

For one thing, the heikhalot texts, which recounted the inner mystic journeys of earlier generations of merkavah mystics, were available to these scholars thanks to the Hasidei Ashkenaz, who had also spread the symbolism of the hidden and visible glories (kavod) and special cherub, as well as their intensive practices of mystical prayer and theurgy. Secondly, the appearance of the Bahir in Provençe injected the revolutionary concept of a dynamic and continuous emanation of the creative power from the concealed Godhead into the material creation, symbolized as the sefirot. And in the Bahir, the conception of God changed from a strictly patriarchal power to incorporate both feminine and masculine qualities. These elements underlie the kabbalistic theosophy as it developed from that time onward.

Until recently, most scholars, including Scholem and Dan, believed that the appearance of the Kabbalah in the twelfth century “might best be regarded as an eruption of gnostic attitudes in the heart of rabbinic Judaism of southern Europe. But where did these gnostic symbols come from? How did they suddenly appear in the late twelfth century after languishing for more than a millennium in the labyrinths of obscure and largely ignored heikhalot and merkavah texts?”247 Contemporary scholars of Jewish spiritual history, however, recognize that those elements of “gnosticism” are not alien to Judaism, erupting from nowhere. They are aspects of a mythic nonlinear side of Jewish life that had persisted from the time of antiquity, perhaps even earlier, side by side with the rabbinic and rationalistic, despite attempts at suppression from rabbinic authorities.

The question still remains, however, why the Kabbalah appeared when it did, why this mythic side of Judaism burst into the light just at that time. It would seem that there must have been an outside influence to trigger a sea change in Jewish spiritual orientation that would allow for the balancing of the intellectual and rabbinic with the mystical. Several important scholars have conjectured that the close proximity of the Cathars to the early centers of Kabbalah in Provençe could have served as the catalyst. The Cathars, a sect whose origins are often linked with the gnostic Manicheans of Iran and the Bogomils of Bulgaria, were quite influential at that time, despite attempts at suppression by the Catholic Church. Gershom Scholem remarks that the Cathars’ lifestyle of renunciation and scrupulous honesty, their condemnation of the corrupt clergy, and their mystical view of God and the creation could have created a mood and atmosphere that would have resonated with Jewish mystical leanings and validated many of the elements in the ancient esoteric documents. And although no direct influences in terms of precise terminology or doctrine have been found, some scholars presume there was some sort of mutual reinforcement and appreciation.248

Scholem writes about the possible cross-influences of the Cathars and other Christian mystics with the early kabbalists:

The revival of mythical elements in the faith of the Cathars has been noted by many scholars. In this regard, one can perhaps speak of a common mood. In the early phases of the Kabbalah, one also sees a religious movement that transcends the boundaries separating Judaism from Christianity and breathes new life into such elements. This tendency gained strength in certain circles of Provençal and, later, Spanish kabbalists, up until the Zohar. There is no uniform and simple answer to the question of the origin of these elements.… On the other hand, we must take into consideration the possibility of one-way [Cathar-Jewish] influence, or a reciprocal influence of Cathar and Jewish ascetics upon one another.249

How did the mystics live? Renunciates and ascetics
The early kabbalists brought a particular intensity to their transmission of the mystic practice and self-consciously referred to their teachings as Kabbalah. They were known among themselves as mekubalim (literally, “those who had received the teachings,” i.e., initiates), and seemed united by a common sense of dedication to the mystic path, to the secrets they shared.

What type of lives did these mystics live? The mystics of Provençe were scholars of the Torah and Talmud; many lived as renunciates, called perushim (sing. parush, literally meaning separated, dedicated), a name given in the Mishnah to scholars who devoted themselves exclusively to study of Torah. They were also called nezirim (sing. nazir, meaning nazarite, ascetic), the biblical term for those dedicated to the Temple or to God.* They seemed to have constituted a subgroup devoted to the religious and mystical life. In fact, a law was passed in the late twelfth or early thirteenth century empowering communities to “appoint scholars whose vocation it is to occupy themselves incessantly with the Torah, so that the community might fulfill the duty of the study of the Torah, and in order that the reign of heaven sustain no loss, … and this detachment [from worldly affairs] leads to purity.”250

Naturally, the study of Torah for these mystics meant more than scriptural reading and repetition; they ascribed symbolic, mystical equivalences to the narratives and personalities of the Bible, and invested its mitsvot (commandments) with mystical importance. They also practiced the inner contemplation of God’s mystery by meditating on various qualities of God and his holy names. These perushim lived a pure lifestyle, with some, at least, refraining from eating meat and drinking alcohol. Scholem writes about the ambience that nurtured the phenomenon of perushim, and draws parallels with Christian monasticism, the Cathars (who also did not eat meat), and Ashkenazic Hasidism:

The origin of the perushim is, rather, connected with the religious enthusiasm that gripped France in the twelfth century, finding expression in the Jewish milieu as well as in the surrounding Christian world, including the reform movements and their religious heresies. Naturally, the very choice of words already reflects the spirit of asceticism that characterized the period. These perushim took upon themselves the “yoke of the Torah” and completely detached their thoughts from the affairs of this world. They did not engage in commerce and sought to attain purity. The similarities between this phenomenon and Christian monasticism on the one hand and the condition of the perfecti or bonshommes among the Cathars on the other, are especially striking.… What is important for us is the existence of a stratum within society that by its very definition and vocation had the leisure for a contemplative life. It goes without saying that such a stratum could give rise to men with mystical tendencies.251

Jacob the Nazarite of Lunel was only the first to be mentioned in the earliest kabbalistic sources as a representative of a mystical tradition or lineage. In 1165, Rabbi Asher ben Meshulam ha-Parush was described by the renowned traveler Benjamin of Tudela as someone “who has withdrawn from the affairs of the world and who devotes day and night to study, practices asceticism, and does not eat meat.”252

Isaac the Blind, known as Sagi Nahor (literally meaning “rich in light”), was the chief disciple of his father, Rabbi Abraham ben David, a leading scholar and mystic in Posquieres who was known by the acronym of his name, as the Rabad. Isaac had the reputation of being spiritually attuned, able to see the condition of a person’s soul and read his thoughts. According to tradition, Isaac was blind from birth. However, some modern scholars believe he could not have been born blind because his writings employ an evocative visual and color imagery. It is possible that his descriptions point to vivid inner spiritual experiences. It is also possible that his blindness may have been a reference to his being blind to the distractions of life, to the material world, and that he had a clear vision of the spiritual realms.

Isaac was the first “full-time” kabbalist that we know of, and was considered the seminal mystic of his period. He undoubtedly belonged to the group of perushim, as he and his disciples advocated the life of the renunciate for anyone seeking to strengthen his spiritual commitment. In his commentary to the Sefer yetsirah, he praised the disciple “who renounces his [other] qualities and devotes himself exclusively to thought, combining everything in thought, elevating thought and lowering the body, in order thereby to give predominance to his soul.”253

Of course, a pure, disciplined, and devoted life was important for mystics throughout Jewish history – from the merkavah period, to the Hasidei Ashkenaz, and continuing through the development of Kabbalah as a mystical path – even if the particular forms or requirements varied somewhat in different periods. A common term for the group of disciples with their master was the havura or hevra, and members were called the companions, the haverim. They were supposed to treat each other with love, as members of a family, and had a duty to help one another in all aspects of life. Isaac Luria in the sixteenth century especially emphasized the importance of loving relations among his disciples.

For kabbalists of all periods, the prerequisites for the spiritual life include a high level of moral integrity, compassion for others, truthfulness, humility, and control over anger, greed, pride, lust, and gluttony. An Italian kabbalist of the seventeenth century wrote: “And purity of heart is important to the Blessed One more than any wisdom and science that are not pursued for their own sake, heaven forbid. But one should remove pride and arrogance and the evil way (cf. Proverbs 8:13) from his heart, and should minister to the masters and consult with those who know it [the Kabbalah].”254 A kabbalist also needed to adhere faithfully to the halakhah, the religious law, ensuring that he did not engage in heresy or deviate from tradition despite his immersion in mystical practice. He had to be of a high intellectual level and be capable of engaging in legal discussions. The general guideline was that the practitioner should be at least forty years of age and married, but this was not agreed upon by all – there were disciples aged twenty or even less. Isaac Luria himself was a master of Kabbalah and yet he died at age thirty-eight, so he must have been initiated into the practice at a much younger age.

Kabbalists were to cultivate solitude and silence, equanimity of mind, periodic fasting, purification of the body through cleanliness, and be willing to make great efforts in their meditation practices. Jewish mystics of all periods had a practice of “night vigils.” They would get up at midnight, meditate, and study. In their meditation, they probably used the posture described in the story of Elijah meditating as he hid on Mount Carmel, and in descriptions of merkavah mystics sitting with their head between their knees.

Selections from an anonymous account that dates from the sixteenth century give us a detailed picture of the lifestyle of the kabbalists as well as their meditation practices. At the end it also reveals that the true “depth of the matter” cannot be written; it must be imparted orally, from one person directly to another.

In clarifying the ways of solitude and devekut [devotion, adhering to God] and the appropriate preparation required of the recluse, suffice it [to state] that he should reach the essence of devotional intention and actually attach his soul to the Intellect, so that the holy spirit rests upon him. Know that the proper preparations required of the recluse in order for him to find precious things by divesting his intellect of corporeality are diverse and numerous. First of all, as far as the body is concerned, he ought to diminish his corporeal desires. Eating must be restricted to food of little quantity and high quality, including small intakes of cooked portions and wine.… What is proposed here is that even if he possesses great wealth, he should enjoy it only for the purpose of maintaining the soul in his body. And he should aggravate his beastly powers, depriving them of what they desire, for by enfeebling them the soul is strengthened and the intellect is set free from the imprisonment of the instinctual powers and cleaves to its Maker.…

In this way he will reach the level of equanimity … [which] brings him to the solitude of the soul, and solitude leads to the Holy spirit, which in turn leads to prophecy, which is the highest rung. Thus, one of the principles that the recluse needs to follow is that first he must attain the level of equanimity, namely not to be impressed by anything. On the contrary, he must experience spiritual joy and be content with his lot and consider himself the sole ruler of this base world, having no one, near or far, to either care for him or pay him homage or do him any good. For all the world’s prosperity and abundance is in his hands. So that there is nothing that he needs.…

And after having made all these preparations, then, while you prepare yourself to talk with your Maker, make sure you empty your thoughts of all the vanities of the world, wrap yourself in your prayer shawl and place the phylacteries [tefillin, prayer containers] on your arm and around your head so as to be awestruck and fearful of the Shekhinah, which keeps you company at that time. Then sit down and take ink and pen and paper and start combining letters quickly and zestfully … in order to separate the soul and purify it of all material forms and things that preceded it and to divest yourself of them so as to focus your heart and thought and intellect and soul on the mental image.…

And in this state he [the mystic] should prepare his true thought to imagine in his heart and intellect that he is sitting above in heaven before God, amidst the splendor and glory of His divine presence and that the Holy One, blessed be He, is sitting on His throne like an exalted king and the hosts of heaven are all standing before Him in awe and fear and trembling and he too is amongst them.… And precisely in this state, he will firmly close his eyes and in fear and trembling will shake his entire body and will take deep breaths as far as possible for him, until all the parts of his body, the external and the internal ones alike, will weaken. Then he will ascend, attaching and cleaving his soul and thought from one rung to another in those spiritual matters as far as it is possible for him to bring it up, … to the hidden supernal world of emanation, so that he will be almost like a virtual intellect without any sensation of the material things, for he has emerged from the human realm … and entered the divine realm.

It is then that his soul expands and is refined by cleaving to the root of the Source from which it was hewn.… But know that permission is not given to every man – though it is worthwhile to draw everyone nearer to the holy labor of uttering the holy name – unless he is well accustomed and experienced in this practice, … and know that the matter of devekut, which is mentioned in this chapter, is a wonderful thing, serving as a ladder to the rung of prophecy. When the pious and the pure man attaches his soul to the supernal world and meditates and brings up his soul and intellect, divesting his thought of material things, … then, know that every thing and every matter upon which he concentrates his mind and soul at that moment immediately comes true as he willed, for better or worse.… And comprehend this matter because it requires subtle consideration. For it is impossible to write about it in a precise manner that conveys the depth of the matter – this must be imparted orally.255

Kabbalists of the sixteenth century in Safed, Palestine, engaged in many penances, rigorous self-mortification, and other austerities. Influenced by the Hasidei Ashkenaz, as well as Muslim Sufis living in close proximity, they engaged in intensive fasting, weeping, wearing sackcloth and ashes, self-flagellation, and so forth. As individuals, they were attempting to atone for the sinful behavior they had engaged in prior to beginning their life of discipleship, but as members of the Jewish community, they were asking forgiveness for the communal sins they felt had precipitated Jewish suffering during the Spanish Inquisition. This aspect of life in Safed will be discussed further in the section on the Safed mystics and Isaac Luria.

How the teachings were revealed and passed down

REVELATION: FROM ABOVE TO BELOW
Abraham ben Isaac of Narbonne, president of the rabbinic court and an eminent talmudist, was the first link in the chain of Provençal kabbalists. Abraham ben Isaac attributed his higher understanding to a revelation from the prophet Elijah, which was channeled to him through his master of Talmud, the greatly revered scholar, Yehuda ben Barzillai of Barcelona. Yehuda possessed an extensive collection of esoteric manuscripts, which he incorporated into a commentary on the Sefer yetsirah; it is thought that he secretly practiced the mystic path, guided by revelations from Elijah, and that he passed the esoteric teachings to his pupil, Abraham ben Isaac.

At the same time that Abraham ben Isaac was president of the Narbonne court, his son-in-law, Rabbi Abraham ben David (the Rabad) was active as a scholar and mystic in Posquieres, a nearby city. Abraham ben David and his close colleague Rabbi Jacob of Lunel also attributed their mystic understanding to giluy Eliyahu – the revelation of Elijah – an indication that they had discovered inner sources of knowledge and mystic wisdom.

Among the secret teachings attributed to Abraham ben Isaac and the Rabad were techniques of mystical prayer, in which names of God and secret combinations of letters and words were used. These methods were revealed in inner communion with the spirit of Elijah, with reference to the practices of the Hasidei Ashkenaz, particularly Eleazar of Worms and his direct disciples, who had also experienced giluy Eliyahu.

In fact, giluy Eliyahu was not an isolated phenomenon. Most of the Hasidei Ashkenaz and kabbalists, as well as many earlier mystics, attributed their illumination to Elijah. Scholem remarks that “it is by no means the mystics alone who encounter him; he may just as well reveal himself to the simple Jew in distress as to one perfect in saintliness and learning. As the zealot of God in the Bible, he was the guarantor of tradition.”256

Elijah was the biblical prophet whose ascent to heaven in a chariot of fire, while still alive, was witnessed by his disciple Elisha. Elijah was transformed in the Jewish mystical tradition into an almost mythic figure who brings inner knowledge and illumination.257 Thus an illumination that came about through a revelation by Elijah gave the stamp of traditional authority to teachings that may have been entirely new, without precedent in the accepted texts. It made even the most radical teaching stand clear of the slightest accusation of foreign influence or heresy.

Other mystics of the period, like Jacob of Marvège (often associated with the Ashkenazic Hasidim), also attributed their inner visions and prophetic experiences to the appearance of the holy spirit (ruah ha-kodesh) of the prophet Elijah. This is not to imply that these mystics simply used the notion of giluy Eliyahu to guarantee that their teachings would be accepted. On the contrary, it is well attested that these kabbalists and hasidim did have true mystic illumination that inspired them to innovate techniques of mystical prayer and thus gain a deeper understanding of the celestial mysteries. Joseph Dan remarks, “It is clear that Rabad was a leader of a group of esotericists, and that he was not the first to lead such a group in Provençe. The kabbalists describe a chain of tradition in the rabbinic academies of Provençe, expressed sometimes as a series of revelations from the prophet Elijah, of which Rabad and his son are later links.”258

For he [Elijah] revealed himself to Rabbi David, head of the rabbinical court and taught him the mysteries of the Kabbalah. He transmitted it, for his part, to his son, the Rabad [Rabbi Abraham ben David], and he [Elijah] also revealed himself to him, and he transmitted it to his son, Isaac the Blind, blind from birth, and to him, too, he revealed himself. The latter, in turn, transmitted these teachings to two disciples of his, Rabbi Ezra, author of a commentary to the Song of Songs, and Rabbi Azriel, after which it was transmitted to the Ramban [Nahmanides of Gerona].259

Rabad attributed all his wisdom – both his understanding of Talmud and mystical knowledge – to the prophet Elijah’s revelation. He wrote: “The holy spirit has already appeared in our school,” and “it was revealed to me from the mysteries of God, which he [Elijah] communicates to those who fear Him.”260 Among the talmudists, these were accepted talmudic expressions for direct inspiration from the divine. Rabad also wrote that “whatever there is here of the good and the true comes from the mystery.”261

Some of the mystics would cryptically refer to the source of their inner illumination as a revelation from the “celestial academy,” a metaphorical term for their concept of heaven, where the rabbis assemble to discuss the Bible and Talmud as they do on earth. A few, like Abraham Abulafia, the important Castilian kabbalist of the late thirteenth century, mention a sudden flash of spiritual illumination. Others, like Joseph Karo of Safed in the sixteenth century, mention a maggid (a heavenly messenger, an angel) who uses the mystic as a channel to communicate with men. There was an ambivalent attitude about accepting this type of revelation, however.

While it was acknowledged that the kabbalists received spiritual illumination from the heavenly realms, there was also an emphasis on personal communication from living masters to their disciples of the secrets of meditation and the divine realms. Nahmanides, the leading Talmud scholar of Gerona, is quoted as having said:

These things and the like of them cannot be grasped by one’s own knowledge, but through the Kabbalah [received tradition] … and this is the chain of tradition that stretches back, receiver by received, up to Moses [who has received it] from the mouth of the Almighty.262

The transmission through such a chain of tradition, from master to disciple, was to be trusted much more than other subjective methods of transmission. The contemporary Israeli scholar Moshe Hallamish, in his book An Introduction to the Kabbalah, quotes Shem Tov ibn Gaon, a Spanish kabbalist of the fourteenth century who settled in Safed:

And the sage cannot know them through his own wisdom, and he who understands cannot understand them with his understanding, and he who inquires cannot do so by his inquiry, except for the mekubal, the receiver, as he received them by an oral tradition that goes back to the chain of the greatest of all generations, who, in turn, received from their masters and their ancestors up to Moses.263

Despite the emphasis on received tradition, whether from heaven above, from Elijah, or from master to disciple, the kabbalists also emphasized that they had an obligation to elaborate on the teachings, to innovate, and apply their intellect creatively to the symbolism. It was seen as a way of keeping the teachings alive and imbued with the fervor of the participants. They said they were simply uncovering hidden truths that were already embedded in the Torah or Kabbalah. Hallamish quotes Rabbi Jacob ben Sheshet, who was a member of the Gerona circle:

Know that the pronouncements of our rabbis, may their memories be blessed, are words of the living God and one should never contradict them. But it is also the religious duty to each wise man to make innovations in the Torah according to his own ability.264

TRANSMISSION: FROM SECRECY TO OPENESS

Most of the early kabbalists were religious scholars and teachers by profession; the Torah and Talmud remained the primary focus of their teaching. Therefore, it is not surprising that the first generation of kabbalists in Provençe did not write about their esoteric teachings directly; and they held this legacy too lofty, intimate, and important to squander with an unknown public. It had to be imparted from master to disciple. There are, however, a few hints of their mystical activities and teachings buried within the context of their halakhic (religious-legal) writings, commentaries on scripture, and correspondence. Abraham ben Isaac, for example, wrote legal texts with obscure mystical references that are quite opaque, revealing less than they conceal.

Shem Tov ibn Gaon, a century later, saw Abraham’s notes (which have since been lost), and wrote that the “president of the rabbinic court committed to writing only key words, rashei perakim.… They make known a series of excellent words, in order to stimulate every kabbalist so that his attention will be aroused in every passage in the Bible or in the Talmud where he finds such a word.”265 In other words, for those familiar with the teaching, the key words would trigger an understanding of the esoteric meaning of many biblical or talmudic passages.

Abraham’s grandson, Isaac the Blind, the most important kabbalist of his age, wrote that his ancestors were well versed in the esoteric knowledge, which they guarded with great secrecy. Scholem quotes a letter by Isaac, declaring that “no word on this subject ever escaped their lips and that they conducted themselves with them [those not initiated into the secret doctrine] as with men who were not versed in the [mystical] science, and I saw [this conduct] of theirs, and I learned a lesson from it.”266

Jacob of Lunel’s esoteric teachings were disguised in ambiguous terminology, in which his discussion of the meaning of a prayer, for example, could be understood at two levels, the deeper level understood by the initiates and a more superficial meaning accessible to outsiders. Because the mystical references are so cryptic, Scholem writes, “only the traditions preserved among the earliest Spanish kabbalists can reveal to us the esoteric, truly kabbalistic statements made by the … Provençal teachers.”267

Isaac the Blind published treatises devoted to explanations of his esoteric knowledge, and in that respect he was more explicit than his spiritual ancestors. However, he maintained the code of secrecy by writing in a very obscure manner, and he did not disseminate his teachings publicly, beyond his circle of disciples. In fact, he became very disturbed when Ezra and Azriel, his disciples from Gerona in northern Spain, returned home from Provençe and began publicizing secrets that Isaac believed were meant only for initiates into the mystic path. According to Isaac, the esoteric tradition should and could only be passed in person from master to disciple.

We are fortunate to have authentic letters written by Rabbis Azriel and Ezra about their intentions to publicize the teachings, transforming the Kabbalah into a more widely accessible reservoir of esoteric knowledge. Ezra had predicted that the “end” or messianic time of redemption would come in the year 1240, and all Jewry had to be ready for it. The secrets of Kabbalah would help prepare the community for this apocalyptic time. In the year 1230, Azriel sent a mystical treatise to the community of Burgos in northern Spain. He wrote: “Kabbalah should be made available to those outside our circle. I myself have corresponded with the kabbalists of Burgos. In addition, I have written a small work which clearly explains the principles of Kabbalah to the wider public.”268

Isaac wrote a strong letter to Nahmanides*, complaining about the problematic behavior of Ezra and Azriel.

I saw wise men, men of understanding and piety engaging in long discourse, who have written great and terrible things in their books and epistles. And once something is written it cannot be concealed any more, for often it will get lost or the author will die and the letters will pass into the hands of scoffers and idiots, and the name of God is profaned.… I have heard from the lands surrounding you, and from the people of Burgos, that they speak publicly in the marketplaces and in the streets in a confused and hasty manner, and from their words it is clear that their hearts have been turned from the All Highest.269

So why did the Gerona kabbalists decide to make this secret teaching available to the public? Harvey Hames of Ben Gurion University in Israel, in his penetrating study “Exotericism and Esotericism in Thirteenth Century Kabbalah,” offers an interesting perspective. He proposes that the externalization of Kabbalah served a particular purpose for the kabbalists, who saw themselves as reformers of Jewish life and guardians of a bond between God and Israel. They felt a dual mission in life, and believed it was time to move from the private to the public sphere, because conditions demanded it. It was time for the esoteric mystical teachings to be translated into a foundation and guidance for everyday life. However, Hames emphasizes that although they revealed their esoteric theosophy – the symbolism of the Ayn-Sof and sefirot, the inner workings of the Godhead and the creation – they never revealed their esoteric techniques of meditation through which they had the mystical experience on which their writings were based. Those secrets had to be obtained from a living teacher simply because it was not possible to transmit them otherwise. They had to be passed from master to disciple individually or in small groups. He says:

However, the importance of the [published] texts is also in what they do not reveal: the esoteric techniques and path to mystical experience which could only be attained if one was a disciple of a recognized teacher. Thus the texts perform two main functions: on the one hand, to inform and enrich the Jewish way of life; and on the other, to emphasize the barrier between the general audience and the initiate.270

Hames goes on to demonstrate that Nahmanides believed there were certain kabbalistic teachings that could be used for the benefit of the entire community, and other practices that were suited only for initiates, who would have the level of understanding to appreciate them. Nahmanides intended to keep certain teachings for his intimate disciples, and he succeeded. Little about his techniques or his inner experiences is known today. His successors went even further and published commentaries that were intentionally misleading or revealed only some of his secrets in veiled language.

The issue of whether the secrets could be revealed in writing continued to be discussed among the later kabbalists. In the sixteenth century Rabbi Moses Cordovero summarized the need for secrecy:

No one who studies the books of the wisdom of the Kabbalah should think that it is possible for a kabbalist sage to write down in a book whatever is known to him, for an inevitable reduction occurs on the way from thought to speech and from speech to writing. Therefore, no one who possesses any knowledge of the Kabbalah should imagine that he [has] delved down into the depth of three books of this wisdom” (Shiur Komah, par. 11).… It is improper to reveal it even orally [lit., from mouth to mouth]. If he merits it, he will explore the divine secret by himself. And whoever is privileged to do so should not verbalize it.271

Cordovero wrote several important books systematically discussing the kabbalistic symbolism. So when he says that the divine secret cannot be expressed in writing or speech, he must be referring to knowledge even more esoteric, which cannot be apprehended through the intellect – perhaps the method through which one can have an experience of the divine secret – true spiritual knowledge.

In a later chapter we will explore the writings of Isaac Luria, Cordovero’s contemporary, who said he couldn’t express to another person what was overflowing from within him, much less impart his teachings in a book. To Luria, the master-disciple relationship was key to spiritual growth, and even that had its limitations.

Symbolism of the early Kabbalah
The kabbalists wanted to explain how the transcendent Lord could manifest himself in the creation; how the abstract formless One could reach down and become involved in the lives of men and respond to their prayers. They were faced with the intellectual challenge that if God were infinite and limitless, self-contained, then it was inconceivable that he would have any connection with humanity. The creation could not have come from him as there would have been nothing outside of him. Some- thing could not have come from nothing.

There had been attempts to explain this earlier in Jewish mystical history: Saadia Gaon had proposed that the glory of God, the logos, was a kind of ethereal intermediary, a “finer air,” which carried the divine spirit into the creation. Similarly, the Hasidei Ashkenaz taught that the glory was an extension of God into the creation; they envisioned an inner and an outer glory. Solomon ibn Gebirol in the eleventh century wrote about the creation taking place through a series of emanations from the primal divine Light, though he didn’t use the term sefirot for these emanations. Many Jewish philosophers and mystics of the period had read the writings of Muslim Neoplatonists who discussed the emanation of the many from the One and the return to the One.

The hallmark of the early kabbalists was that they developed a new, unique, all-encompassing symbolism based on the continuous dynamic emanation of the sefirot. Despite the fact that the term sefirot had occurred in the Sefer yetsirah in the first century, in that work it designated ciphers or numbers, symbolizing powers that were static. In the Bahir, the powers became dynamic, always flowing outward and downward from the Godhead and returning to the Godhead, moving in a natural pattern from one to the next; they were conceived as influencing one another, and affecting the balance between them and the Godhead from which they had emanated.

In many early texts the sefirot were referred to as the midot, divine qualities or attributes through which God brought about the creation: wisdom, understanding, reason, strength, rebuke, might, righteousness, judgment, lovingkindness and compassion. These qualities were understood as God’s instruments or utterances. These were the same ten utterances (Hebrew: ma’amarot, Greek: logoi) that the Bible refers to when it says that God “spoke” and the universe came into being. In Genesis, God speaks ten times as he creates the various aspects and levels of the creation, starting with “And God said, Let there be light.” According to a mystical rabbinic interpretation of Genesis, this signifies that He brought about the creation through ten utterances or sounds.

The kabbalists gradually adopted the term sefirot for these utterances and conceived of them as a series of graded emanations through which the divine creative power flowed into the creation in an orderly way. They believed the primal divine will, energy, or light, in its purity and unity, needed to be “stepped down” and channeled in order for the process of creation to take place. Thus the sefirot were also envisioned as gradations of spiritual light as well as sounds or utterances.

Isaac the Blind took these dynamic symbols as introduced in the Bahir and crystallized them into a system to explain the process of creation, upon which one could direct one’s attention during contemplation and prayer. Isaac gave the sefirot names and explained their relationship to each other, although his writings are not always very clear. He conceived of the concealed Godhead as existing beyond the level of emanation of the sefirot, even beyond the primal will or “thought” to create. He called it the Ayn-Sof, the Limitless, the Infinite. There was a certain amount of confusion in his writings about the precise relationship between the Ayn-Sof and the sefirot, and some of his disciples differed from him. Each generation of kabbalists thereafter continued to embellish and refine the system of the Ayn-Sof and sefirot to correspond more precisely with their own vision and experience of the divine realms.

The names Isaac gave to the sefirot are: keter (crown), hokhmah (wisdom), binah (understanding), hesed or gedulah (love, mercy/greatness), din or gevurah (judgment/might), tiferet (beauty), netsah (endurance), hod (splendor), yesod (foundation), and malkut (kingship). The sefirot are generally arranged in a pattern that shows how the creative power flows from one to the next. A diagram is included as Appendix #2.

Isaac wrote commentaries on the Sefer yetsirah and the first chapter of the book of Genesis, explaining his theories. He taught that the creation of the physical world as described in the Bible must have taken place at a later stage in the process. The first stage happened on a spiritual level, within the eternal and concealed Godhead, beyond time, as the first will or thought to create. From that divine will were emanated, still on a spiritual level, the ten sefirot or ma’amarot from whose activity, ultimately, the physical world was created.

Scholem explains Isaac’s teachings: The Ayn-Sof and the first sefirah of keter (crown) were beyond the utterance, above the expression of the divine will. Hokhmah (wisdom), as the second sefirah, “is in any case the ‘beginning of being’ as it is also the ‘beginning of the dibur [utterance].’ From hokhmah, the rest of the sefirot proceed in a clear chain of emanations”272 leading to all existence below. Isaac taught that “all things are linked to one another and intertwined like a chain: ‘one from another, the inward from the still more inward.’ ”273

In the Bible, there is a passage saying that there is a stream that goes forth from the Garden of Eden (Genesis 2:10). This was understood by Isaac and his disciples as a symbol of the emanation of the sefirot; when the river leaves the garden and flows into the creation at the level of malkut (the lowest sefirah), the sefirot become separated from their source, as they flow into the “world of separation,” the realm of duality. The idea of the never-ending flow through the chain of the sefirot presumes one underlying divine principle, which unites everything in itself. Isaac says: “He is united in everything and everything is united in Him.” This preserves the idea of there being one God, who is immanent. According to Isaac, through hitbonenut (contemplation) one can find the divine throughout the world of separation, and ascend in the chain from the material to the spiritual, to the formless and the inward, ultimately to the state of the divine thought or will (hokhmah, mahshavah), and the infinite cause.274

One of Isaac’s disciples wrote symbolically about the emanation of the second sefirah of hokhmah, which is where the divine will manifests, followed by the emanation of the lower sefirot, resulting eventually in the physical creation. He says that all existed in a potential state in hokhmah. When the divine essence of hokhmah poured into the third sefirah of binah (understanding), the material creation came into existence.

Before God created His world He was alone with His name, and His name is equivalent to His wisdom. And in His wisdom all things were mixed together and all the essences were hidden, for He had not yet brought them forth from potentiality to reality, like a tree in whose potency the fruit is already present, but which it has not yet brought forth. When he contemplated the wisdom, he transformed that which was in the root into mountains, and he cleft rivers (Job 28:9–10), that is: He drew forth all the essences that were hidden in the wisdom and brought them to light by means of His binah.275

The symbolism of the sefirot was extended by later kabbalists to the patriarchs and prophets of the Torah, and the narratives of the Torah were viewed as a metaphor for the process of emanation. The parts of the human body were also viewed as corresponding to the sefirot, and thus every action done by an individual on the material plane was understood as having a connection to the activity of the sefirot in the divine realms, a related concept introduced by Isaac the Blind.

According to Isaac, the divine realms are a series of inner worlds in which the activity of the sefirot takes place. Each such world is a projection from the one above. The highest of these worlds is called atsilut (emanation), the spiritual realm in which the potential for the primal emanation of divine qualities exists but does not actually express itself. Below atsilut is briah (creation), the causal (archetypal) realm where the divine will becomes active in creating the prototypes of the creation below. This is followed by yetsirah (formation) – the astral level. The lowest world is the physical realm of assiyah (actualization, making).

Isaac also taught that there were several levels to the human soul, which has a divine nature. He divided the soul into the level of nefesh (the passions or sense perception) which was the lowest, and the progressively more spiritual levels of ruah (spirit, breath) and neshamah (soul). Isaac taught that the emanation of the sefirot takes place at the level of neshamah, the highest or most inward level, but he doesn’t explain his teaching clearly. These divisions would be echoed in the works of later kabbalists who added two more levels.

Kavanah and devekut
The subject of contemplative prayer, or, as it became known, mystical prayer, was a preoccupation of the kabbalists from the very beginning, as it had been for the Hasidei Ashkenaz. Kavanah was the means developed by the kabbalists to bridge the chasm between external repetitive prayer and the yearning for a more immediate personal communion with the divine. The term was used in the context of the theurgical prayers of the Hasidei Ashkenaz who insisted upon precise recitation of outward prayers and recitation of numerical and alphabetical formulae in order to affect the divine realms, and in the prayers of early Provençal kabbalists like Jacob of Lunel and Isaac the Blind, who attempted to inwardly direct their prayers towards particular sefirot.

Kavanah means the focused or concentrated mind in prayer or meditation and is an aspect of the process of devekut, a “pious, inward communion … with the divine,” as Scholem explains:

The kavanah of meditation is the tension with which the consciousness (of a person performing a prayer or another ritual act) is directed to the world or object before him. Nothing is pronounced but the words of the statutory prayers, as they had been fixed of old, but the mystical meditation mentally accompanies the current of words and links them to the inner intention of the person who is praying.… Among the kabbalists of Provençe these initial stages led to a comprehensive discipline of contemplation concerned with man’s communication with God.276

The Rabad, Isaac’s father, distinguished between the Creator God (yotser bereshit), who is “the Cause of Causes,” and the concealed transcendent Godhead. As in the Bahir, the Creator was understood as the source or womb (pleroma) of all the divine qualities or powers, the sefirot. Rabad taught that one could not direct one’s prayers to the hidden Godhead, as it is hidden and transcendent. The devotee has to direct his prayer to the Creator, from whom the midot (qualities) emanate. Not all the kabbalists of this period agreed with him, and the doctrine was kept secret because it aroused such hostility among those who thought it meant that there were two gods in heaven, one of whom had a body and received the prayers of the faithful. By the time of Isaac the Blind, this doctrine had disappeared.

Jacob of Lunel and his circle taught a different type of mystical prayer, in which the mystic would mentally direct certain words or phrases of the prayers towards particular midot. Scholem remarks that while the Bahir provided the symbolism and principle of the sefirot and their dynamic emanation of the creative power, mystical prayer to particular sefirot was a logical and practical application of this principle. It was this model that became common among the kabbalists, although it also aroused a great deal of suspicion among nonkabbalists who saw it as worship of numerous gods.

Isaac’s concept of the chain of the sefirot acting as a vehicle for the downward flow of the divine will or thought was mirrored by the corresponding image of an upward flow of divine energy, from the material plane to its source in God. “All things [or utterances] return to the root of their true being”277 was his statement of this principle. Because man has the divine element or soul within him, so he will naturally return to his root in God, through a sort of magnetic attraction. His journey home is accomplished through the path of contemplative mysticism, using kavanah and devekut.

The object of one’s prayer and meditation was to unite with the midot themselves. Through the contemplation of the lower midot, one reaches the higher ones. Each is a reflection of the one above, and they serve as intermediaries in the flow of the divine substance. Thus human thought can rise to the level of the pure divine thought, which then rises to the Ayn-Sof itself. Isaac wrote:

For every midah [singular of midot] is filled with that which is above it, and they are given to Israel … in order to meditate from the midah that is visible in the heart, to meditate up to the Infinite. For there is no other path to the [true] prayer than this one: by means of the limited words, man is made to enter [into their interior] and rises in thought to the Infinite.278

There was an esoteric tradition of how one was to apply one’s kavanah to particular words of the prayers, which corresponded to (and were linked with) the various midot. Scholem poetically explains that through meditation on the spoken word, one can ascend to the primordial word – the divine quality itself, the higher midah that the spoken word corresponds to – and from there to the divine thought (the source of all the midot), through which he can reach the Ayn-Sof:

In his concentrated reflection on the word he finds the “primordial word” and through it the contact with the infinite movement of the divine mahshavah [thought] itself, in which he raises himself to Ayn-Sof. Therefore, in the word, the mystical kavanah reveals a spiritual inner space where the word soars up to the divine.279

Isaac gives instructions for a kavanah (concentration exercise) in which the mystic “traverses the world of the sefirot from below upward during the declaration of the divine unity, the Shema Yisrael,280 and then, in his meditation on the word ehad, ‘one!’ completes and closes the circle of his kavanah, from above downward.”281

A unique aspect of Isaac’s teachings is the graphic image he uses to describe the experience of the divine thought – that of sucking (yenikah) the divine essence, which he compares to the sap of a tree. This graphic term was Isaac’s evocative way of describing the transfer of spiritual knowledge, the experience of the outpouring of the divine will, at a level far above intellectual comprehension. Scholem presents the passage in which Isaac discusses the term “marvelous paths of hokhmah (wisdom),” which appears in the Sefer yetsirah:

The “marvelous paths of hokhmah” are, according to him, “inward and subtle essences” that exist in the hokhmah as the root in the tree, and that proceed from it like sap passing through the trunk. The secret arteries, by way of which the sap circulates throughout the tree, are themselves these paths. “No creature can know them by meditating, apart from he who sucks from it [from hokhmah itself], on the path of meditation through his sucking and not through knowledge.” These enigmatic words seem to suggest that Isaac knew of a way to connect with these hidden essences, obtained not through knowledge but by means of another process, a contemplation without language, which he names “sucking,” yenikah.282

Isaac taught that the mystic, through his kavanah, by controlling and directing his own thought, can experience communion with God. This is the meaning of devekut, which comes from the biblical verb dabhak (adhere, cleave to) “to express the contact of the soul with God or the divine light.”283 Isaac and his disciples likened the state of devekut achieved through contemplative prayer or meditation with the prophetic state experienced by the biblical prophets. In fact, Isaac’s own disciples Ezra and Azriel linked this state with the ecstasy of Moses. Ezra commented that through devekut, two become one.

Isaac urged the performance of the commandments (the 613 positive and negative commandments included in the Bible), as another aspect of kavanah. It is an external expression of the concept of divine service. He equated the inner kavanah with internal service of God.

The Gerona circle
This small community of Jews in northern Spain had sent their bright young men to Provençe to study Talmud at the academies there. They became imbued with the mystical teachings, which they took home to Gerona. Most of them were disciples of Isaac the Blind. In their writings, they involved themselves deeply in discussing the sefirot. Anonymous tracts started appearing in which the symbolism of each sefirah was discussed systematically. Naturally, there was a lot of variation in their understanding of the symbolism as each kabbalist contributed his own interpretations.

The most important kabbalists of this group were Nahmanides, Ezra ben Solomon, and Azriel. Azriel’s writings were very systematic. He was able to elegantly develop the ideas of Isaac the Blind and give them clearer formulation and direction. As an example, here is what Azriel wrote about the Ayn-Sof:

Anything visible, and anything that can be grasped by thought, is bounded. Anything bounded is finite. Anything finite is not undifferentiated. Conversely, the boundless is called Ayn-Sof, Infinite. It is absolute undifferentiation in perfect, changeless oneness. Since it is boundless, there is nothing outside of it. Since it transcends and conceals itself, it is the essence of everything hidden and revealed. Since it is concealed, it is the root of faith and the root of rebellion. As it is written, “One who is righteous lives by his faith.” The philosophers acknowledge that we comprehend it only by way of no.

Emanating from Ayn-Sof are the ten sefirot. They constitute the process by which all things come into being and pass away. They energize every existent thing that can be quantified. Since all things come into being by means of the sefirot, they differ from one another, yet they all derive from one root. Everything is from Ayn-Sof; there is nothing outside of it.

One should avoid fashioning metaphors regarding Ayn-Sof, but in order to help you understand, you can compare Ayn-Sof to a candle from which hundreds of millions of other candles are kindled. Though some shine brighter than others, compared to the first light they are all the same, all deriving from that one source. The first light and all the others are, in effect, incomparable. Nor can their priority compare with its, for it surpasses them; their energy emanates from it. No change takes place in it – the energy of emanation simply manifests through differentiation.

Ayn-Sof cannot be conceived, certainly not expressed, though it is intimated in everything, for there is nothing outside of it. No letter, no name, no writing, no thing can confine it. The witness testifying in writing that there is nothing outside of it is: “I am that I am.” Ayn-Sof has no will, no intention, no desire, no thought, no speech, no action – yet there is nothing outside of it.284

Azriel was strongly influenced by Neoplatonism and believed that everything comes from the One and will naturally return to the One, but the process is accelerated by man’s participation through kavanah. Scholem summarizes Azriel’s teachings on this:

All things egress from the One and return to the One, according to the formula borrowed from the Neoplatonists; but this movement has its goal and turning point in man when, turning inward, he begins to recognize his own being and, from the multiplzicity of his nature, strives to return to the unity of his origin. No matter how the coming forth of the creature from God is conceived, there is no doubt here concerning the manner of its return. It is accomplished in the elevation of the kavanah, in the introversion of the will that, instead of spending itself in multiplicity, “collects” and concentrates itself and, purifying itself of all selfishness, attaches itself to the will of God, that is, joins the “lower will” to the “higher will.” The commandments and their fulfillment are the vehicles of this movement of return to God. Inherent in them is a spiritual element of which man can and must take hold and through which he is joined to the sphere of the divine. For the commandments, in their spiritual element, are themselves part of the divine kavod.285

“THE GATE OF INTENTION OF THE EARLY KABBALISTS”
Mystical prayer was also practiced by the Gerona kabbalists, as they used the techniques and theory of kavanah to direct their prayers toward the Godhead, the Ayn-Sof, not to particular sefirot. There is a remarkable anonymous text, called by its translators “The Gate of Intention of the Early Kabbalists,” which is presumed to be a secret work by Azriel. It combines the theory of kavanah with the symbolism of light, and a meditation practice on different degrees of light. What was so revolutionary about the text, and probably why it was kept secret, is that it talked about the objective of total mystic union in the divine being. Whoever the mystic was who wrote it, he was cautious enough to frame it in the tradition of the early hasidim of the third and second centuries BCE, who used to meditate silently for one hour before engaging in their liturgical prayers. Joseph Dan summarizes the work:

The writer interpreted this [meditation] period as one in which the worshipper-mystic has to transform himself, to shed his material body and become purely spiritual, immersed in divine light surrounding him and becoming himself light rather than matter. When in this state, the mystic envisions the components of the spiritual world as pillars of light, of different colors, surrounding him. The mystical goal of this prayer is a very ambitious one – it is to reach the realm of the infinite, unbound Godhead beyond the limited manifestations of the divine realm, and be united with it – “so that the higher will is clothed in his will.”286

To unite with the Godhead as the goal of meditation is not very common in kabbalistic literature, perhaps due to the suspicion it would have aroused from the traditional rabbinic belief that no one could “see” the face of God and live (i.e., be equal to, or unite with him). Yet it does appear from time to time as a valid form of mystic expression, especially in texts unmediated by later editors who might have deleted such references. Here are a few lines from the original text, in translation:

He who resolves upon something in his mind with a perfect firmness, for him it becomes the essential thing. Therefore if you pray and pronounce the benedictions or otherwise truly wish to direct the kavanah to something, imagine that you are light and that everything around you is light, light from every direction and every side; and in the light a throne of light, and on it, a “brilliant light,” and opposite it a throne and, on it, a “good light.” … [More aspects of light are described; the distinctions among them have been lost.] And between them and above them the light of the kavod, and around it the light of life. And above it the crown of light that crowns the desires of the thoughts, … And this illumination is unfathomable and infinite, and from its perfect glory proceed grace and benediction, peace and life for those who observe the path of its unification.…

For according to the intensity of the kavanah, with which it draws strength to itself through its will, and will through its knowledge, and representation through its thought, and power through its reaching [to the primordial source of the will], and firmness through its contemplation, if no other reflection or desire is mixed in it, and if it grows in intensity through the power that guides it, in order to draw to itself the current that proceeds from Ayn-Sof, … everything and every act is accomplished according to its spirit and its will.… Then, it must elevate itself above them through the power of its kavanah and go into the depths … to pave a new way according to his own will: through the power of his kavanah, which stems from the perfect glory of the withdrawing light, which has neither figure nor image, … and which is in no respect finite.…

And he who elevates himself in such a manner, from word to word, through the power of his intention, until he arrives at Ayn-Sof, must direct his kavanah in a manner corresponding to his perfection, so that the higher will is clothed in his will, and not only so that his will is clothed in the higher will. For the effluence … is like the inexhaustible source that is never interrupted.…

In this manner the ancients used to spend some time in meditation, before prayer, and to divert all other thoughts and to determine the paths of their kavanah [during the subsequent prayer] and the power that was to be applied to its direction.… And this is the path among the paths of prophecy, upon which he who makes himself familiar with it will be capable of rising to the rank of prophecy.287

When he speaks of arriving at a state when “the higher will is clothed in his will,” one has achieved the state of mystic union. Described otherwise, who is the Beloved and who is the lover cannot be known; the two have become indistinguishable; they have merged into one identity. He says that in that state, “the effluence is like the inexhaustible source that is never interrupted.”

Scholem remarks that the text shows that the true state of prophecy is achieved through kavanah, and this defines the perfect mystic:

The true kavanah described in this text is therefore identical with the path of prophecy, which passes through the realization of the perfect devekut with God, that is, the cleaving of human thought and will to the thought and will of God.… The illumination, which is to be obtained through devekut, can therefore be distinguished from prophecy only by its degree and not by its nature. The prophet is here, as so often in medieval thought, none other than the perfect mystic.288

And how was this form of mystical prayer different from the magical prayers of the Hasidei Ashkenaz? The simplest distinction is that when the Hasidei Ashkenaz created magic formulae out of holy words and names, they pronounced them aloud as part of the text of the prayer. But among the earliest kabbalists, the kavanah or intention takes place in the mind, while the mouth might be engaged in the external recitation of set prayers.

The difference between the mystical and the magical was not only in the manner of praying – in the mind or aloud. There was also a difference in intention, in purpose, though in practice the line would often be blurred. In pure mystical prayer, according to Scholem, the practitioner rises spiritually from level to level to become absorbed in the divine source or the highest midot (the sefirot); in theurgic or magical prayer the mystics would try to “draw down” to himself powers from the divine realm. Initially, among the earliest kabbalists of Provençe, prayer was not used for magical or theurgic aims. However, by the next generation the Spanish kabbalists, among them the disciples of Isaac the Blind, definitely inclined towards theurgic prayer.

In some instances, the mystical prayer would be tied to a specific day, like Yom Kippur (the holy Day of Atonement), or to a higher power like the Prince of the Torah (an angelic being who, it was believed, could help a person learn the secrets of the Torah quickly). It might also consist of requests to the holy spirit or to Elijah to grant forgiveness.

Thus the kabbalists of Gerona, building on the teachings of Isaac the Blind, created a fully developed mythology and symbolism upon which they built forms of worship and meditation that took them far from the rabbinic forms of Judaism practiced only a century earlier.

The Iyun circle
The Iyun circle was another significant group of mystic practitioners active either in Provençe or in Castile, Spain, during the early- to mid-thirteenth century, parallel with the other early kabbalists. There seem to have been some cross-influences with the Gerona school, with whom they shared certain common terminology and doctrines, and scholars are not really sure who influenced whom.

The term iyun comes from the word ’ayin (eye) and means concentrated visual contemplation; it seems to suggest a technique of meditation. This name was given to the circle by Gershom Scholem, who was the first to study their most significant writings, including the Book of Contemplation (Sefer ha-iyun), which exists in numerous versions. The theme of the Book of Contemplation is the nature of the Godhead – it explores the concept that there are spiritual realms within the Godhead and other realms that emanate from it. Their other important books are Ma’ayan ha-hokhmah (Fountain of Wisdom),* which relates how the cosmos was brought into being. A third text, which exists only as a fragment, is called the Book of Unity, and it focuses on the triad of powers or lights within the Godhead. There are numerous other short treatises and fragments. In the words of Mark Verman, a modern scholar who has studied the texts of the Iyun circle intensively, “together they offered a potent combination of radical theology and speculative science, which profoundly influenced those mystics active in Spain in the latter half of the thirteenth century.”289

The literary influences we find in their writings include the Sefer yetsirah and its numerous commentaries, the merkavah and heikhalot texts, and the teachings of the Hasidei Ashkenaz. But, according to such scholars as Joseph Dan, it was the impetus of first-hand mystical experience that propelled these mystics to write about their inner visions. The fact that the code of secrecy concerning esoteric knowledge had started to break down among the Jewish mystics also contributed to the writing of such documents. This trend would continue throughout the kabbalist period, but it should be remembered that these esoteric works were never studied in isolation, from books alone – there were always circles of masters and disciples encouraging each other in mystic practice.

To give a sense of the beauty and sublimity of their writings, a quotation from the Book of Contemplation is given below, which describes the hidden state of the Godhead prior to the creation (the state of balanced unity) and the emanation of the primal light, glory, faith, creative power, and wisdom.

This is the Book of Contemplation that Rabbi Hammai, the principal spokesman, composed on the topic of the Innermost [most hidden]. In it he revealed the essence of the entire existence of the Glory, which is hidden from sight. No creature can truly comprehend the essence of His existence and His nature, since He is in the state of balanced unity; for in His completeness the higher and lower beings are united. He is the foundation of everything that is hidden and revealed. From Him issues forth all that is emanated from the wondrousness of the Unity and all the powers that are revealed from the Supreme Hiddenness, which is called aman [artisan].* The explanation is that from Him the sustaining power emanated, which is called Father of Faith, since faith was emanated from its power.

He is the primal emanator, for He preceded all the primordial elements that were emanated from the wondrousness of His Unity. Furthermore, all of them are revealed by the process of emanation, like a scent from a scent or a candle-flame from a candle-flame; since this emanates from that and that from something else, and the power of the emanator is within that which was emanated. The emanator, however, does not lack anything. Thus, the Holy One, blessed be He, generated all of His powers – these from those, by the process of emanation. Moreover, He is united with them like the flame of fire, which is united with its colors, and he ascends above in His Unity and is exalted, such that there is no end to His exaltedness.

When it arose in His mind to create all His actions and display His power and produce all of His creations, He created one power. This power is called Primordial Wisdom, which is called mystery. Before He created this power, His power was not discernible, until His radiance was seen, and His glory was revealed in this wisdom.… The quality of His truth, may He be blessed, that we are able to perceive, entails the pure light of life. It is pure gold, written and sealed in the radiance of His beauteous canopy. It consists of a brightly shining radiance, like the image of the form of the soul that is entirely imperceptible – an entirely imperceptible brightness.

He is united with the Primordial Wisdom. From this Wisdom that is called mystery, the Holy One, blessed be He, generated all the spiritual powers simultaneously. All of them vibrated and whirred in their brightness and were exalted above, until the Holy One, blessed be He, bound all of them together.290

The basic theme is the origin of the cosmos through the emanation of the divine powers (kohot) from the source, the Holy One, the Primordial Wisdom. The ten powers emanate one from the other in an organic chain, one linked or “bound” to the other, “united in the exalted realm,” each deriving individually from the preceding power.

The first power that was emanated from the Primordial Wisdom the author calls Marvelous Light. From the Marvelous Light, the Primordial Wisdom created hashmal, electrum.* Among subsequent emanations are the throne of light, the wheel of greatness, and the cherub, which is described as being like “a curtain (veil) revolving in the revolution of its brilliance.” The work ends with the appearance of Metatron the angel, who in the heikhalot literature is often depicted as seated on the divine throne.

The esoteric meaning of much of this symbolism is elu-sive, yet the document conveys the ecstasy of their inner visual experiences of the divine light and radiance. The vibration and whirring of the powers refers to an experience of spiritual soundless “sound.” The texts reveal a unique and highly experiential mysticism.

Significant for our study is the fact that, as Dan remarks, “The series of powers are usually described in rhythmic prose, reflecting enthusiastic, experiential expression. It seems that unlike most kabbalistic texts, the works of the Iyun circle did not undergo a stage of theologization and systemization, so that the enthusiastic elements connected with first-hand mystical experience are not completely erased.”291

Because their work comes to us unmediated by editors try- ing to make them conform to accepted theologies, we can still find evidence of their personal mystical experiences. This is important because it implies that the works of other mystics, which did get published, may only give us a partial glimpse of the mystical, experiential aspects of their teachings.

The Fountain of Wisdom has two distinct sections: the first part is concerned with a meditation practice based on deriving divine names from the internal patterns of the Hebrew language; in the second, the author describes the creation as a process of emanation of supernal lights. Concerning the quote below, Verman points out that the term tikun is used here to mean meditation, not the restoration or perfection of divine aspects of the Godhead and supernal realms, as used in the Lurianic teachings of the sixteenth century.

This is the tikun, by directing your heart upon these four letters which constitute the Ineffable Name. In them is hidden a flowing stream and an overflowing fountain. They divide into several parts and run like lightning. Their light continues to increase and grow stronger.

The root-principle of all of them is YHWH. It has the numerical value twenty-six, corresponding to the twenty-six movements that emerged from the Primal Ether which divided into two parts – each part separate unto itself. Each part has the numerical value thirteen, corresponding to the thirteen sources that separated from the letter “A” [Aleph].292

One of the doctrines of the Iyun circle was the emanation of thirteen powers or lights from the primal One, here called the Aleph, which is the first letter of the alphabet. He continues:

This matter will be elucidated and clarified by means of its tikun. The tikun about which we have spoken is the start of everything. It is the direction of the heart, intention of the thought, calculation of the viscera, purification of the heart, until the mind is settled and logic and language are formed. From language [stems] clarification, and from clarification the word is formed. From the word is the utterance and from the utterance is the deed. This is its beginning.293

Verman, in trying to understand what this obscure passage means, assumes that it is something “more basic and yet more transcendent than mundane letter permutations.” Obviously, the attempts to record in writing the profound teachings that these mystics shared among themselves cannot do justice to them. Possibly this is because these teachings – about meditation, primal sound and language, divine powers, and so forth – cannot be conveyed at the level of the intellect through any human language. The author does, however, seem to be reaching to the spiritual nonphysical origins of language.

The document also includes the interesting statement on the Godhead – that He caused himself to come into being:

Know that the Holy one, blessed be He, was the first existent being. Only that which generates itself is called an existent being. Since He generated himself, we can comprehend and conduct an investigation into His existence.294

The identity of the Iyun mystics has remained obscure, as they wrote under fictional names of legendary mystics of past ages. Contemplation, for example, is attributed to a Rabbi Hammai, who never existed. Hammai means visionary in Aramaic. Fountain of Wisdom is attributed to an angel named Pe’eli. Verman, through his linguistic and historical studies, has attributed some of the circle’s works to Rabbi Isaac ha-Cohen, a kabbalist of Castile, but this has not been proven. Scholem and Dan date them earlier and Scholem locates them in Provençe. Verman postulates that the reason the mystics who authored these works hid under cloak of anonymity was because of opposition from the conservative rabbinic community which regarded some aspects of the teachings as heretical. At the time, controversy raged about the works of Maimonides, which were accused of being too philosophical and scientific; similar pressures were felt among kabbalists.295 And despite their importance for understanding the origins of the Kabbalah, these works still exist mostly in manuscript form in libraries around the world.296

A mystical rationale for the commandments
Provençe was an intellectual crossroads, lying between the Muslim-dominated Arabic-speaking world of Spain and the Christian-dominated Latin- and French-speaking world. It became a window through which the Arabic writings of Jewish philosophers like Saadia Gaon and Maimonides were transmitted to northern Europe in Hebrew translation. Maimonides’ rationalist reinterpretation of Judaism in Aristotelian terms and his fearless intellectual innovation created a reaction of great hostility in European Jewish communities, as his ideas were seen to weaken the authority of the scriptures as the basis for the performance of ritual. Some of Maimonides’ writings were banned by the religious authorities. It was natural that a teaching as radical as Kabbalah might also create waves of anxiety or fear in the minds of the religious authorities. But for the most part, this was not the case.

Ta’amei ha-mitsvot, meaning the reasons or justifications for the religious commandments, was a popular preoccupation with the kabbalists of the thirteenth century and they wrote many tracts on this subject. But these were not rational reasons that they proposed – they were mystical and symbolic. The kabbalists presumed that when people performed the rituals and ceremonies commanded in the Torah, this had a theurgical effect on the realm of the divine – it augmented the divine power, which gave protection to the Jews. For example, the kabbalists believed that the mitsvah (biblical commandment) of the tefillin (phylacteries), and use of the lulav (palm branch) on the holiday of sukkot, had special meanings and impact on the supernal powers. If these commandments were not performed, the divine being would withdraw into itself and the flow (shefa) of its nurturing power, its grace, the holy spirit, would be diminished. The commandments had the power to join man to God, raising him to the divine level. In a play on words, the kabbalists taught that the mystical reason (ta’am) for performing a mitsvah is its taste (ta’am), knowledge of which could be gained by reading the biblical text carefully. By performing the mitsvah, the devotee could gain a taste of the divine sweetness and essence inherent in it.

The kabbalists believed that no action simply takes place in the physical world. Every action has its corresponding impact in the higher planes. Thus the kabbalistic world view provided a rationale for performance of the commandments and living an upright and moral life. Joseph Dan elaborates:

The commandments reflect essences and processes within the divine world, and by their observance the mystic is able to take part in these processes. That some mitsvot did not have logical explanations did not in any way diminish their attraction as symbols – on the contrary, the symbol became more powerful because of its mysterious nature on the literal level.… In this way the Kabbalah completely transformed the everyday lives of its believers on the spiritual level, without changing anything on the practical level.…

It is clear that a rationalistic explanation of the reasons of the mitsvot might make the commandments subject to change as circumstances change; whereas a mystical interpretation on the symbolic level – claiming that the real reasons are completely hidden and beyond human comprehension and that the symbol dimly denotes something concerning an esoteric meaning – cannot be used to bring negation or change.297

Thus, a type of mystical practice and a belief system that might have seemed quite radical and destabilizing to a mainstream religion actually became a conservative force in maintaining the authority of religious law and tradition. At the same time, however, there were objections. The symbolism of the sefirot always bordered on polytheism to some minds, because it was perceived as the worship of many gods, not the one true Lord.