For forty long years, as they wandered, they had a constant companion: a pillar of cloud by day, and a pillar of fire by night. The Torah tells us, in Exodus 13:21, "And Yahweh went before them by day in a pillar of cloud, to lead them along the way." Moses himself looked to this pillar of fire to guide them. When he saw the pillar of cloud rise above the Mishkan (Tabernacle), he knew it was time to move. He'd cry out to the people, and they, hearing his voice and seeing the sign, would prepare to journey onward.
According to the Yalkut Shimoni, they'd gather their belongings, load up their animals, and even place their precious items on the cloud itself if they had no other means of transport. Then, with the sound of trumpets, the tribe of Judah would lead the way, the pillar of cloud faithfully guiding them towards the Promised Land.
But what does this pillar of cloud mean? It's more than just a weather phenomenon. It's a symbol of divine presence, of guidance, of a connection to something greater than themselves. And the idea of this pillar doesn't end with the biblical story. Centuries later, in the mystical city of Safed, we find the legend echoing again.
Rabbi Moshe Cordovero, known as the Ramak, lay on his deathbed. His disciples, anxious about the future, begged him to name his successor. But the Ramak remained silent on the matter. Instead, as recounted in Divrei Yosef by Rabbi Yosef Sambari, he gave them a sign to look for: whoever saw a pillar of cloud at his funeral would be the one they should follow.
Imagine the disciples' confusion! The Ramak passes away, and all of Safed is plunged into mourning. As the funeral procession makes its way to the graveyard, a young disciple named Rabbi Isaac Luria, the Ari, approaches Rabbi Joseph Karo (author of the Shulchan Aruch) with an incredible claim.
"Ever since we left the synagogue," he says, "there has been a pillar of cloud going before us." He points, but to everyone else, there's nothing to see. Rabbi Isaac then walks directly into the spot he indicated and vanishes from their sight!
For a long moment, everyone is stunned, speechless. Then, Rabbi Isaac Luria emerges from the cloud – a cloud only he could see – and his face is radiant, glowing like the face of Moses after descending from Mount Sinai! In Divrei Shaul, we learn that this was no ordinary cloud. This was the very same cloud that had enveloped Moses on Sinai, carrying him into heaven so he could receive the Torah from God.
The disciples finally understood. This was the sign the Ramak had promised. Rabbi Isaac, the Ari, was destined to be their teacher. After the funeral, many of the Ramak's disciples came to Rabbi Isaac and asked to study with him. At first, the Ari was hesitant. Until then, he had concealed his holy ways. But eventually, he agreed. For the two years he remained in this world, he became their master of Torah, and his teachings, particularly those of Kabbalah, still resonate powerfully today.
This story, as we find in Tree of Souls, is remarkable because it links the Ari both to his immediate predecessor, Moshe Cordovero, and to the biblical Moses. The fact that both are named Moses (Moshe in Hebrew) only underscores the connection. The story suggests that the Ari and his predecessors were figures of immense spiritual stature, like the biblical patriarchs, and that miracles of the kind that occurred in the time of Moses were still possible in their own time.
So, what can we take away from this story? Perhaps it's a reminder that even in the most uncertain of times, there is always guidance available to us, even if it's not always visible to everyone. Perhaps it's a call to look beyond the obvious, to trust our intuition, and to be open to the possibility of miracles. And maybe, just maybe, it's an invitation to find our own "pillar of cloud" – that inner compass that guides us on our own unique journey.