And it knows that God feels it too.
In the Heikhalot Rabbati, a text from the Heikhalot literature—these are the ancient mystical texts describing ascents to the divine realms—we find a powerful expression of this longing. It’s a description of God, but not in the way we might expect. It's not just about power and glory. It's about yearning.
The passage starts with a cascade of titles, each one building upon the last: "King just, King faithful, King beloved, King lovely, King supporting King lowly, King humble, King righteous, King pious, King holy, King pure, King blessed, King lofty, King mighty, King gracious, King merciful, King of Kings of Kings and Lord of the Crowns."
It’s breathtaking, isn’t it? This isn’t just a list; it's a portrait of a God who embodies all the highest virtues, a God who is both powerful and compassionate, both exalted and intimately involved with the lowly. And that last title, "Lord of the Crowns"—it speaks to the immense authority and sovereignty of the Divine.
But then, the tone shifts. We’re introduced to Totrosi’ai, the Lord God of Israel. And here’s where it gets really interesting. The text says that Totrosi’ai "desireth and awaiteth – in such measure as He awaiteth for the redemption and for the season of salvation which is laid up for Israel for a day of vengeance after the destruction of the last temple."
Think about that for a moment. God is waiting. Waiting as intensely as He waits for the final redemption, for the time when Israel will be saved and the wrongs of the world will be righted after the destruction of the Second Temple in Jerusalem. This isn't a detached, indifferent deity. This is a God who is actively engaged in the world, who feels its pain and longs for its healing.
But what exactly is God waiting for? The text continues with a series of questions: "When shall he that descendeth to the Merkabha descend? When shall he see the loftiness of the height? When shall he see the end which bringeth salvation? When shall he hear the end which is wrought by wonders? When shall he see that which eye hath not seen? When shall he ascend and tell to the seed of Abraham who loved Him?"
The Merkabha, meaning "chariot," refers to God’s celestial chariot, as described in the Book of Ezekiel. In the mystical tradition, it represents the divine realm, and "he that descendeth to the Merkabha" is someone who undertakes a spiritual journey, ascending to the highest levels of mystical experience.
So, God is waiting for someone to pierce through the veil, to experience the divine reality, and then to return and share that vision with the world. He's waiting for someone to bring a message of hope and salvation to the descendants of Abraham. He is waiting for the tzaddik or ascended master.
It’s a powerful image, isn’t it? This idea that God isn’t just a passive observer, but an active participant in our spiritual journeys, longing for us to connect with Him and to share that connection with others. It suggests that our own spiritual seeking is not just a personal endeavor, but a cosmic one, something that is deeply meaningful to the Divine itself.
And isn't that a comforting thought? That our yearning for something more, our own waiting for a better world, is mirrored in the heart of God Himself. Maybe, just maybe, that shared longing is the very thing that will bring us closer to the redemption we all await.