It’s a question that has plagued mystics and philosophers for centuries, and the tradition offers some fascinating, if mind-bending, answers.
Let’s dive into a passage from Kalach Pitchei Chokhmah, a text that delves into the very heart of Jewish mystical thought, specifically concerning the Sefirot (סְפִירוֹת), those emanations of God's creative power.
The text tackles a crucial point: when our soul perceives something of the divine, is it seeing some kind of literal representation? Like, if we envision a circle, is that a physical circle existing in the spiritual realm? Kalach Pitchei Chokhmah says, emphatically, “it is not so.”
So what is happening?
According to the text, what the soul perceives are the powers of the spiritual realm arranged in a particular order. Think of it as a cosmic language. These powers aren’t inherently shaped like circles or straight lines, but they are expressed in forms that our limited human minds can begin to comprehend.
Here's an example: imagine the soul having a glimpse of God’s overall providence – God's care for the cosmos as a whole. We can’t fully grasp that vast concept, so our soul might "translate" it into the form of a circle. The circle, in this case, isn’t the thing being perceived, but a symbolic representation of that abstract divine quality.
This brings us to the central idea of igulim (עִגּוּלִים) and yosher (יוֹשֶׁר). The Sefirot, these divine emanations, are often understood as being arranged either as circles (igulim) or in a straight, upright form (yosher). But again, these aren't literal shapes! They are models, frameworks for understanding the complex interplay of divine energies.
The text goes on to say that the Sefirot can "break through," "ascend," or "descend" in various ways. It's important to remember that this isn't about physical movement. These are metaphors for how we can begin to understand the dynamic relationships between these divine attributes. The text stresses that this isn't the actual, concrete form, but a way we can understand it.
Think about it. We often use metaphors to explain things we can't directly see or touch. We might say someone has a "heavy heart" or that an idea is "taking root." We know these aren't literal descriptions, but they help us to grasp complex emotional or intellectual states.
The same principle applies here. The shapes, the movements, the arrangements – they’re all tools to help us navigate the vast and often overwhelming landscape of the divine. They provide a framework, a language, for speaking about the unspeakable.
Ultimately, Kalach Pitchei Chokhmah reminds us that our understanding of the divine will always be filtered through the lens of our human perception. The challenge, and the beauty, lies in recognizing the limitations of that lens while still striving to see something of the infinite light that shines beyond. What frameworks do you use to understand the unknowable? Perhaps that is something worth exploring.