Let’s talk about one such word.
We’re diving into the Zohar, that cornerstone of Jewish mysticism. Specifically, we're looking at how it interprets Ezekiel's famous vision of the divine chariot (Ezekiel 1:27). The Zohar uses the phrase "appearance of shining" and connects it to a… synagogue. Okay, so far so good. But then it calls that synagogue an Esnoga.
Now, hold on. Esnoga? Where did that come from?
That’s the question that bothered the author of Mitpachat Sefarim, and it's a good one. You see, Esnoga isn't a Hebrew or Aramaic term. You won’t find it in the Bible. It's absent from the Targums, the Talmuds (both Babylonian and Jerusalem), and the vast collections of Midrashim handed down by the Talmudic sages. It's simply not there.
So where does it come from?
The answer, surprisingly, is Ladino, or Judeo-Spanish. It's what Spanish-speaking Jews call a synagogue. The author of Mitpachat Sefarim points out that even though he doesn’t know Ladino himself, he’s heard Sephardim in his own community use the term. He even refers to a responsum (legal ruling) by the AMaH (may his memory be a blessing), Responsum 38, where a question written in Ladino is translated into Hebrew, and there, plain as day, is the word Esnoga corresponding to the Hebrew word for synagogue.
Now, here's the crux of the issue. The Zohar attributes this connection between "appearance of shining" and Esnoga to ancient sources. But is that really plausible?
Could the Talmudic sages, including luminaries like Ravina and Rav Ashi, or even the Geonim of Babylon, have known and used Ladino? It seems highly unlikely. And attributing it to Rabbi Shimon bar Yochai (Rashbi), the Tanna to whom the Zohar is traditionally ascribed? Well, that, the author suggests, would be utter foolishness.
So what's going on here? One could argue that the author of the Zohar used a contemporary, well-known term to explain the mystical meaning of the text, sort of like using a familiar metaphor to illuminate a complex idea. It's a possibility, but it feels… forced.
Instead, Mitpachat Sefarim concludes, the most likely explanation is that this, and similar instances within the Zohar, are later additions. Additions, specifically, made by a Sephardi Kabbalist.
This isn't about discrediting the Zohar. It's about understanding its history, its layers of authorship, and the influences that shaped its final form. It's a reminder that even the most sacred texts are often the product of a long and complex process, shaped by the hands and minds of many individuals across generations. And sometimes, a single word – an Esnoga – can open a window into that fascinating history.