Kabbalah, the Jewish mystical tradition, wrestles with this very idea. It’s not that the Divine is holding out on us, but rather, our own capacity to receive.
Baal HaSulam, a towering 20th-century Kabbalist and commentator on the Zohar (the foundational text of Kabbalah), dives deep into this concept in his "Introduction to Zohar." He throws us a curveball right from the start, stating that there's actually no difference between the highest point of Keter (the crown, the highest Sefira, or divine emanation) in the highest world, Adam Kadmon, and the lowest point of Malkhut (kingship, the lowest Sefira) in the lowest world, Asiya (the world of action, our physical world).
Think about that for a moment. The very peak of divine potential and the lowest rung of our tangible reality… essentially the same? How can that be?
Baal HaSulam clarifies that the difference lies in how we, the recipients, perceive these Sefirot. We experience them as both lights (Orot) and vessels (Kelim). The light itself, he emphasizes, is purely Divine. No question there. It’s the vessels that do the work of channeling that light, and that's where things get interesting.
He specifies that the vessels – specifically, the KaḤaV TuM (an acronym referring to specific parts of the Sefirot) – in the three lower worlds of Beria (creation), Yetzira (formation), and Asiya, aren't divine in the same way. These vessels act as a kind of covering, a shield, over the infinite light of Ein Sof, the Infinite. Their role? To measure and regulate the flow of enlightenment.
It's like a dimmer switch on a light fixture. The electricity (the Divine light) is always there, but the dimmer controls how much reaches the bulb. We only receive the portion of light that's appropriate for our individual level of spiritual readiness, our "purity," as Baal HaSulam puts it.
So, what does this mean for us? It suggests that the perceived limitations we experience aren't inherent in the Divine. The problem isn't with the source, but with our ability to receive. It's a call to work on ourselves, to refine our "vessels" so that we can hold more light.
Perhaps the feeling of being held back isn’t a cosmic conspiracy. Maybe it’s an invitation to grow, to expand our capacity, and to become worthy recipients of the infinite light that’s always available.