It all begins with a verse from Jeremiah (31:21): "...a neqevah shall encompass a gaver." Now, neqevah means "female," and gaver means "man." Simple enough. But in Kabbalah, nothing is ever just simple. Everything is interconnected, layered with meaning.
The Zohar" target="_blank" rel="noopener" class="source-link">Tikkunei_Zohar" target="_blank" rel="noopener" class="source-link">Tikkunei Zohar draws a connection here to the word GaN (גן), meaning "garden." The neqevah, the female, is associated with the letter Nun (נ) from GaN. And the gaver, the man, is linked to the letter Gimmel (ג) from GaN. So, what does this garden represent?
According to this passage, GaN represents the fifty-three sections of the Written Torah. The Torah, our foundational text, is being described as a garden, a place of growth, nourishment, and hidden beauty.
But the connection doesn't stop there. Add to those fifty-three portions the seven days of Sukkot, the Feast of Tabernacles, and you arrive at sixty. And what else has sixty? "The sixty tractates of the Talmud," the oral law that expands and interprets the Written Torah.
See how it all weaves together? The female encompassing the male, the letters within the garden, the portions of the Torah, the days of Sukkot, the tractates of the Talmud… it’s a tapestry of interconnected ideas.
And then there's the "Eighth Day of Assembly," Shmini Atzeret, that follows Sukkot. The text calls it a festival unto itself, and says that within it lies the "well-spring of the Torah." This well-spring irrigates the "Tree which is planted in the garden." The Tree, of course, often represents the Tree of Life, a central symbol in Kabbalah.
And where do its roots and branches reach? "…the circle (ḥug) of the Earth..." as we find in Isaiah (40:22). This ḥug, this circle, becomes the space in which all the festivals, all the ḥagin, become celebrated. It's a beautiful image: all our sacred times unfolding within a cosmic circle, nourished by the Torah's deepest source.
What does it all mean? Well, perhaps it's an invitation to see the Torah not as a static text, but as a living, breathing garden, full of hidden connections and profound wisdom. A garden where male and female, written and oral, earthly and cosmic, all intertwine. And, perhaps, by tending to this garden within ourselves, we can draw closer to that well-spring of Torah and find our own place within that encompassing circle.