They even saw it playing out on a cosmic scale.

Let’s dive into a passage from the Tikkunei Zohar, specifically Tikkun 47, a section that deals with some pretty heavy stuff: exile, divine presence, and the respect (or lack thereof) shown to the Jewish people in times of hardship.

The Tikkunei Zohar, by the way, is considered a companion to the Zohar itself, expanding and elaborating on its cryptic teachings. It’s a deep dive into Kabbalah, Jewish mysticism, and it often uses رمز (remez, allusion or hint) to get its points across.

So, what’s this particular Tikkun about? It starts with a rather startling idea: Before the exile of Israel, the Blessed Holy One – that's God, of course – revealed to Samael (often considered the accuser or adversary in Jewish tradition) that Israel would be destined to be under their control.

Whoa. Let that sink in. God showed Samael and his "seventy appointed-ones" (think of them as his demonic entourage) the future. But there's a twist. God also showed them their reward if they treated Israel with respect during this exile. It was a test, a cosmic dare, if you will.

The proof text given is from Genesis 39:5: "And Y”Y blessed the House of the Egyptian, because of Joseph." Y”Y here is a subtle way of writing God's name. The idea is that even in exile, even in the house of a foreign ruler, divine blessing can be present because of the righteous individual. Joseph, even as a slave in Egypt, brought blessing to the household.

But here’s the rub. Did Samael and his crew show respect? According to the Tikkunei Zohar, absolutely not. Instead, they degraded the Jewish people and the Shekhinah – the divine presence, the feminine aspect of God that dwells among us. They taunted them, mocking their faith with the cruel question from Psalm 42:4: "...where is your God?"

Ouch.

It’s a powerful image, isn't it? This passage isn't just a historical recounting. It speaks to a deeper truth about the nature of exile, the challenges of faith, and the importance of how we treat those who are vulnerable. It’s a reminder that even in the darkest times, the Shekhinah, the divine presence, is still with us, even if it feels hidden. And it challenges us to consider how we, ourselves, treat those who are suffering, those who are in exile – whether literally or metaphorically. Do we offer compassion, or do we echo the taunts of Samael?

What do you think? Is this just an ancient story, or does it have something to say to us today?