And it all starts with… dew.
Yes, dew. Specifically, the tal, the dew of resurrection. But where does this life-giving moisture originate? According to some, it descends from the very head of God! As it says in the Song of Songs (5:2), "For My head is drenched with dew, My locks with the damp of night." Imagine that for a moment.
The Yalkut Shim'oni and other sources paint a vivid picture: When the time arrives to resurrect the dead, God will shake His locks, releasing this extraordinary dew. And through that dew, all the righteous dead will rise from the dust. Think about the intimacy of that image!
But the story doesn't end there. Some traditions, as we find in Seder Eliyahu Rabbah and Pirkei de-Rabbi Eliezer, suggest an even more personal and tender moment. After the reviving dew descends, God will seat each person between His knees, embrace them, kiss them, and personally bring them to life in the World to Come. What a powerful and loving depiction of divine care!
This myth, as noted in Tree of Souls, really finds its foundation in Isaiah 26:19: "For your dew is like the dew on fresh growth." This isn't some detached, mechanical process. In these stories, God is actively involved, intimately connected to each individual's return to life.
It's interesting to note that here, the World to Come is linked to the messianic era. Traditionally, these are often seen as separate things. The World to Come, as Maimonides explains in his Ma'amar Tehiyat ha-Metim, is often understood as a realm of souls without bodies, like the angels. The messianic era, on the other hand, is typically envisioned as a transformation of this world, restoring it to a state of Eden-like perfection. But in this context, they seem to merge.
So, what is this dew of God, this extraordinary tal? The Zohar (3:128a), in the Idra Rabbah section, offers a stunning description: "the light of the pale glow of the Ancient One." It goes on to say that from this dew exist the supernal saints, and it is the manna which they grind for the righteous in the World to Come. It’s not just water; it’s a divine essence, a source of sustenance and life beyond our comprehension.
It's a potent image, isn't it? This idea of resurrection being initiated by a loving, personal act of God, using something as gentle and life-giving as dew. It makes you think about the power of small things, doesn't it? About the potential for renewal and rebirth that exists even in the most seemingly barren landscapes. And maybe, just maybe, about the extraordinary love at the heart of everything.