It delves into the inner workings of hearing, and it's wild.

Let's turn to the Idra Zuta, a profound section of the Zohar, the central text of Kabbalah. Here, we find a description of how sounds are processed, not just physically, but spiritually. It's not just about vibrations hitting our eardrums. It's about a whole system of filtration and judgment.

The text describes balm – a soothing, healing substance – dripping into the three cranial cavities associated with Chochmah (Wisdom), Binah (Understanding), and Da’at (Knowledge). These three Sefirot are key to understanding how the Divine manifests in the world, and, by extension, how we perceive it. This balm is called "brook Kerit," a reference to the brook where Elijah the prophet was sustained (I Melachim 17:3). But the word Kerit also hints at "cutting off," suggesting a separation or refinement process happening within the ear.

Think about it. The ear isn't just a passive receiver. Sound enters a curved space, a kind of holding chamber, where it's absorbed into this "river of balm." Here, the sound lingers, and is scrutinized, judged. Is it good? Is it bad?

This is where the verse from Job (Iyov 34:3) comes in: "For the ear tries words." Why this "trying" or testing? Because, according to the Idra Zuta, the sound doesn't rush straight in. It's held back, evaluated. It's like the balm is a gatekeeper.

The text draws a parallel to the palate. Just as the palate tastes food, discerning between sweet and bitter because the food is held there before entering the body, so too the ear "tastes" words. There's a period of assessment, of discernment.

So, what does it mean that our ears "try words"?

It suggests that we're not just passively absorbing information. There's a deeper, more active process at play. We're constantly evaluating, filtering, and judging the sounds and words that come our way. The balm, this mysterious substance, is part of that process. It's a spiritual lubricant, but also a discerning agent. It allows us to make sense of the world, to distinguish truth from falsehood, wisdom from folly.

Perhaps the next time you listen to something, you'll be more aware of this internal process. That the simple act of hearing is so much more complex, so much more profound, than we often realize. Maybe you’ll even consider what kind of “balm” you’re using to filter the sounds of the world. Are you listening with wisdom, understanding, and knowledge? Or are you letting noise rush in without discernment?