Jewish mystical tradition, specifically Kabbalah, wrestles with this very question. And it takes us to some truly mind-bending places.
Think about it: if God is eternal, and God is the source of everything, then what was God doing before creation? Kabbalah offers a radical, intricate answer involving something called the sefirot.
Now, if you dip even a toe into the Zohar – that foundational text of Kabbalah – and other Kabbalistic writings, you quickly realize that these sefirot, along with what are called "faces" (partzufim), aren't just abstract concepts. They preceded the creation of heaven, earth, and everything in them. This isn't some minor detail; it’s a cornerstone of the Kabbalistic understanding of creation.
As Rabbi Hayyim Vital explains in his monumental work, Etz Hayim ("The Tree of Life"), specifically in the "Gate of Principles" and the "Gate of Circles and Rectitude," these primordial structures existed in a realm far beyond our comprehension. He further clarifies this in the "Gate of Breaking the Vessels," in Chapter 3, and throughout the book. It's a complex system, and we're only scratching the surface here.
So, what exactly happened? According to these teachings, the emanation of the "kings" (ancient, primordial forces) began with the attribute of Da'at, meaning "knowledge." This was the first to emerge. But, as the narrative goes, the vessel containing this Da'at couldn't hold the immense divine light. It reached its breaking point.
And here’s where it gets really interesting. The vessel shattered.
The broken vessel, unable to contain the divine energy, descended. But where did it descend to? Here's the kicker: it fell to the place where the world of Beri'ah – the world of Creation – was destined to exist. At that point in time, Beri'ah didn't even exist yet! The broken vessel, in essence, prepared the ground, the very space, for the future emanation of Beri'ah.
This concept is absolutely crucial. It means that even the "place" of creation wasn't a given. It was created by this primordial shattering.
It's a dizzying idea, isn't it? That the very fabric of reality, as we know it, is built upon the remnants of something that broke down in the face of infinite light.
What does this all mean for us? Perhaps it suggests that even in brokenness, there is potential for creation. Even in shattering, there is a spark of divinity that can seed new worlds. Maybe, just maybe, understanding the wars of God before creation can help us understand the creative potential within our own lives, our own struggles, our own "broken vessels."