The Tikkunei Zohar, a central work of Kabbalah, paints a picture of just that moment, but on a cosmic scale.
Imagine a constant flow, a procession at the entrance to something… sacred. According to the Tikkunei Zohar, as some exit, others are already there, knocking, yearning to enter. And who are these hopefuls? They’re described as "masters of the arms," and their plea echoes the words of King David in Psalm 51:17: "ADNY! Open my lips..." Adonai, often shortened to ADNY, is one of the names we use to refer to God.
But it’s not so simple as just knocking and asking. There are gatekeepers, guardians of this sacred space. They announce to the "Master of the Universe" that these "masters of the arms" are waiting. There's a sense of protocol, of a process that must be followed.
And then, a voice rings out. It identifies these "masters of the arms" not just by their plea, but by something more: their tefillin, their phylacteries. Tefillin are those small leather boxes containing scriptural passages, bound to the arm and head during prayer. They are a tangible sign of our commitment, a physical manifestation of our intention.
But the voice adds another layer: "the wrapping of precept." This is where it gets really interesting. The Tikkunei Zohar connects this act of "wrapping" to a story from Genesis, a story about Noah and his sons, Shem and Japheth. Remember that tale? Noah, in his… shall we say, less-than-dignified moment, is found uncovered. Shem and Japheth, showing respect and covering their father without looking upon his 'ervah – his nakedness, his obscenity – become the model.
The text emphasizes: "...and they placed it upon the shoulder of both-of-them... Like Shem and Japheth, of whom it is stated: And Shem and Japheth took the cloak... etc. ... and the’ervah of their father they did not see..."
Why this connection? What does covering Noah's nakedness have to do with opening our lips in prayer? The Tikkunei Zohar seems to be telling us that true prayer, true connection with the Divine, requires humility, respect, and a willingness to cover the imperfections of others. It's not just about the words we say, but the actions we take, the way we treat each other. It's about approaching the sacred with a sense of responsibility and reverence.
So, the next time you feel like you're standing at that gate, remember the "masters of the arms." Remember the tefillin, the outward sign of commitment. But most importantly, remember the lesson of Shem and Japheth. Remember that true entry requires not just the right words, but the right heart. It requires covering the 'ervah, the flaws and vulnerabilities, of the world around us. Perhaps, only then, will the gates truly open.