In Kabbalah, the ancient Jewish mystical tradition, this idea of light, Ohr, and what obscures it, is central to understanding the very structure of reality.
We're diving into some pretty heady stuff here, so let's take it slow. We're drawing from the Petichah LeChokhmat HaKabbalah, an introduction to the Wisdom of Kabbalah, to explore how different levels of "opacity" affect the flow of divine light.
Think of it like this: imagine a lamp shining through different shades of glass. The light is always there, but the glass determines how much of it we actually see. In Kabbalah, this "glass" is a metaphor for limitations or veils that prevent the full expression of the divine.
Now, the text talks about “returning light,” Ohr Hozer. This is the light that reflects back from creation towards its source. The amount of light that returns is directly related to how much "opacity" is present. The more opacity, the less light makes it back.
If there's only the "opacity of the second level" present, the returning light is limited. It can only enclothe—or surround—the ten sefirot (divine emanations) up to the level of Bina (Understanding). What's missing? Keter (Crown) and Ḥokhma (Wisdom), the highest and most subtle of the sefirot. It’s like trying to build a tower, but you're missing the foundation and the very top piece.
But what if things are even more obscured?
If we're dealing with the "opacity of the first level" alone, the returning light diminishes even further. Now it's only strong enough to enclothe up to the level of Tiferet (Beauty). That means Keter, Ḥokhma, and Bina are absent. The light is struggling to penetrate.
And finally, the most veiled state: if even the "opacity of the first level" is gone, leaving only the "opacity of the root level," the impact is incredibly weak. It can barely enclothe up to Malkhut (Kingdom), the very last sefirah. In this scenario, we're missing the first nine sefirot: Keter, Ḥokhma, Bina, and the six encompassed within Tiferet (Ḥesed – Loving-Kindness, Gevurah – Severity, Tiferet itself, Netzaḥ – Endurance, Hod – Splendor, and Yesod – Foundation).
So, what does this all mean? Why go through this intricate breakdown? It's about understanding how limitations – our own and those inherent in the created world – affect our perception of the divine. The more "opacity" we have, the harder it is to access the higher levels of spiritual awareness. It's a call, perhaps, to clear away the things that block the light within ourselves and around us, so we can truly see the brilliance of creation. Can we find ways to diminish the "opacity" in our own lives, allowing more of that returning light to illuminate our path?