Jewish tradition often speaks of a profound connection between the heavens and the earth – “as above, so below,” as the Kabbalists say. But what happens when tragedy strikes here? Does it resonate in the celestial realms?

There's a powerful story about the destruction of the Temple in Jerusalem that suggests it absolutely does. But it's not just about the earthly Temple. The tale, as told in the Zohar, delves into what happened in the heavens when God made that fateful decision.

According to this tradition, when God decided to destroy the Temple, He didn't just target the physical structure. He first "put aside the Holy Land above," the supernal Jerusalem. Imagine that: a celestial Jerusalem, a mirror image of our own, also connected to the Divine. And, crucially, He cut it off from the sacred heavens that nourished it.

What was the impact? The angels, witnessing this severing, wept bitterly. Why? Because it signified the exile of the Shekhinah. The Shekhinah (שְׁכִינָה) – the divine feminine presence, the immanent glory of God – was being sent away.

This is where it gets really interesting. The story suggests that God's judgment works from the top down. As we find in the tradition, "When He wishes to judge the world, He first passes judgment on the world above, and only then does He pass judgment on the world below." It’s a chilling thought, isn’t it? That our earthly trials might be reflections of a divine process already underway.

And it wasn't just the Shekhinah who suffered. According to the Zohar (2:175a), even God Himself was changed. His light, it says, no longer shone as brightly. Why? Because blessings, that divine flow, exist only where male and female are together. The Zohar (1:182a) even provides a prooftext from Genesis (5:2): "Male and female He created them and blessed them." This reinforces the Kabbalistic idea of the union of the divine masculine and feminine principles as essential for divine blessing.

Think about that for a moment. The destruction of the Temple, the exile of the Shekhinah, the severing of the celestial Jerusalem – all of this impacted the very light of God. As a result, from that day forward, the heavens did not shine with their usual brilliance.

The story concludes with a glimmer of hope. The light of the heavens, we're told, will not be restored until the End of Days. When? When the Bride and Groom – representing, perhaps, the reunited divine masculine and feminine or God and Shekhinah – dwell together again as one.

Many myths surrounding the heavenly Temple emphasize its eternal nature, a stark contrast to our earthly Temple's destruction. But this story, as Isaiah Tishby points out, is different. It claims God actively cut off the heavenly Temple's nourishment. Tishby suggests this myth from the Zohar is actually more about the exile of the Shekhinah than the heavenly Jerusalem itself. It emphasizes the heavenly parallels to the human condition, underscoring that central Kabbalistic tenet, "as above, so below.”

What does this all mean? Perhaps it's a reminder that our actions, our tragedies, and our triumphs resonate far beyond our earthly realm. That the divine, too, is affected by our world. And that ultimately, healing and restoration, both here and in the heavens, depend on unity, on the coming together of seemingly disparate forces. It's a profound and beautiful thought, isn’t it?