That’s the kind of moment we're about to step into, a scene from the Idra Zuta, or "The Holy Small Gathering." It's a profound and deeply mystical text within the Zohar, and it describes the final day of Rabbi Shimon bar Yochai, one of the most important figures in Jewish mystical tradition.
Imagine this: Rabbi Shimon knows his time is near. He's preparing to leave this world, to ascend. His closest students, his "companions," gather in his home. Among them are his son, Rabbi Elazar, and Rabbi Aba. The house is packed, filled with devoted followers eager to absorb every last word, every last spark of wisdom from their teacher.
Rabbi Shimon looks around, and what he sees makes him weep. But why?
"At a different time, when I was sick," he says, "Rabbi Pinchas ben Yair came before me. They waited for me until now until I found my place in the Garden of Eden." He's recalling a previous near-death experience, a moment when the heavenly realms were already beckoning.
And then he adds something truly extraordinary. "When I returned, fire encircled me, which never ceased. No one appeared before me except with permission. Now I see that the fire is extinguished, and the house is full."
What does this "fire" represent? Well, according to the Zohar and other Kabbalistic texts, it’s the intense spiritual energy, the divine presence, that surrounded Rabbi Shimon. It was so powerful, so overwhelming, that only those with the proper spiritual preparation, with "permission," could even approach him. It was a protective barrier, a sign of his elevated state.
But now, the fire is gone. The house is full. What changed?
It seems the extinguishing of the fire signifies that Rabbi Shimon is about to fully transition to the next world. The barrier between realms is dissolving. His work in this world is drawing to a close, and the divine energy that surrounded him is now, in a sense, being released, shared with those present.
Think about that image: A room full of people, a master teacher on the verge of departure, and a palpable sense of divine presence fading as one journey ends and another begins. What a powerful image.
This scene, this moment in the Idra Zuta, offers us a glimpse into the profound mysteries of life, death, and the connection between the earthly and the divine. It invites us to contemplate our own spiritual journeys and the "fires" that surround us, both protecting us and perhaps, at times, separating us from others. What kind of "fire" surrounds you? And what does it mean for your own path?