It’s a question that has occupied countless scholars, mystics, and everyday spiritual seekers for centuries. And the answer, as we find when delving into the intricate world of Kabbalistic thought, isn’t always straightforward.
One thing that becomes abundantly clear when reading the Zohar, that foundational text of Jewish mysticism, and its many commentaries — including works like "Mikdash Melech," "Kisei Eliyahu," and the writings of Rabbi Emanuel of the Mishnat Chassidim — is a unanimous agreement: We don't direct our worship or invocations towards the Infinite One, the Ein Sof, the ultimate First Cause. Think about it: how can you even begin to address something that is, by definition, beyond comprehension?
Instead, these sources, including "Yosher Levav," the Rashab, "Matzref HaEmunah," the book "HaKavanot," "Eitz Chaim," "Machberet HaKodesh," "Sefer HaBrit," the Ari (Rabbi Isaac Luria) in "Likkutei HaLekutim" and "Nachalat Yosef," and many others, teach that our prayers are directed towards Zer Anpin. Who is Zer Anpin? According to their understanding, Zer Anpin is the "Lesser Countenance," the last cause among all the emanations, the one who connects all the faces of God, and sustains all of creation. It is to Zer Anpin that we call out in times of distress, believing that He will answer us when we call.
But here's where it gets even more interesting. Rabbi Kisei Eliyahu adds a crucial caveat. When praying to Zer Anpin, we must also acknowledge and include the other faces, the higher Sefirot, above him. As it says on page 26 [of the source], if we fail to include them in our prayer, our requests might not be answered as swiftly. It's about recognizing the interconnectedness of all the aspects of the Divine.
Why is this so important? Because, as we’ve discussed, each Sefirah—each face—needs the others. If we only unify our prayer towards Zer Anpin, we might not get the response we seek. This is the idea behind the combination of the letters "מה תצעק אלי" (mah titzaq eilay, "Why do you cry out to Me?"), a phrase found in ancient sources. The implication is that even prayers solely directed to Zer Anpin aren't inherently lacking, but they simply won't be answered as quickly. Similarly, Rabbi Yosher Levav emphasizes this point in Beit Bet, Room 3, Chapter 7, etc.
Now, someone deeply learned in Torah, familiar with the Mishnah, Talmud, and Midrashim, might raise a valid question. What about the teachings of luminaries like the author of "Chovot HaLevavot" (Duties of the Heart), Rabbi Yehuda Halevi, Rabbi Saadia Gaon, Maimonides, Rabbi Eliezer of Germaiza, and the authors of "B'rukach," "Sefer Mitzvot Gadol," "Sefer Mitzvot Katan," and "Ba'al Ha'ikarim?" All these great thinkers emphasize the absolute unity of God! How does this square with the Kabbalistic idea of praying to Zer Anpin and acknowledging the other faces of God?
It's a profound question, and one that touches on the very heart of the tension between philosophical monotheism and mystical experience. Perhaps the Kabbalists would say that acknowledging the different faces of God isn't a denial of unity, but rather a way of understanding the multifaceted nature of the Divine, a way of engaging with the Infinite through the finite vessels that make creation possible.
It reminds us that the path to understanding God is not always a straight line. It's a winding road, full of paradoxes and complexities. And maybe, just maybe, that's precisely where the beauty lies.