Jewish tradition sees that balancing act as fundamental, even cosmic. And it all comes down to… blood?
The Tikkunei Zohar, a mystical exploration of the Torah, dives deep into this idea. It focuses on a seemingly strange verse from Ezekiel (16:6): "…and I said to you: ‘In your blood, live!’ And I said to you: ‘In your blood, live!’" What's so important about blood here? The Tikkunei Zohar connects it to the "blood of the covenant of circumcision," a powerful symbol in Judaism.
But it's not just about the physical act. It's about what that blood represents: the commitment, the covenant, the life force itself. And this life force, according to the Tikkunei Zohar, hangs in the balance. It exists "from the aspect of the Middle Pillar," a concept in Kabbalah representing equilibrium. This pillar, this life force, this you, is constantly shifting.
Here's the kicker: "if the deeds of the world deserve merit, then it turns towards ḥesed," towards benevolence, towards loving-kindness. But, "if not, then towards dyna," towards judgment, towards… well, you get the picture. It's a constant flux, a cosmic barometer responding to our actions. And it's not just limited to this one "pillar"; the Tikkunei Zohar tells us this dynamic applies to other aspects as well.
So, what happens when things aren't in perfect balance? When we fall short? That’s where another symbol comes into play: the bow, or qeshet in Hebrew. But not just any bow – the rainbow. The rainbow, the Tikkunei Zohar reminds us, is also a "sign of the covenant."
Think about that for a second. After the flood, God set the rainbow in the sky as a promise, a reminder never to destroy the world again in that way. It's a symbol of hope, of renewal, of a second chance. And it's connected to this whole balancing act between ḥesed and dyna.
The text then quotes Ezekiel again (1:28), describing a vision: "Like the appearance of the rainbow that shall be in the cloud on the day of rain, so was the appearance of the nogah around." Nogah is a "glow," a radiance. The verse continues, "it is the appearance of the image of the glory of Y”Y, and I saw and I fell on my face, and I heard a voice speaking."
Falling on your face? That seems a bit extreme, right? Well, the Tikkunei Zohar explains why: "Because it is forbidden to gaze at the rainbow." Wait, what? Why is that? The Talmud (Ḥagigah 16a) elaborates on this idea, suggesting that staring directly at the rainbow is akin to staring at God's glory directly, which is too much for a mortal to bear. It's a reminder of the awesome power and responsibility that comes with being part of this covenant.
So, what does it all mean? We are constantly influencing the cosmic balance with our actions. We have the power to tip the scales towards kindness or, unfortunately, towards judgment. And the rainbow? It's a reminder of both the potential for destruction and the promise of renewal. It's a sign that even when we stumble, even when we fall short, there's always a chance to realign ourselves, to strive for that balance, to choose life, to choose ḥesed. It's a powerful thought, isn't it? What will you do with that knowledge?