Jewish mysticism wrestles with that very feeling. It delves into the times when even the most righteous seem to be met with silence.
The Zohar" target="_blank" rel="noopener" class="source-link">Tikkunei_Zohar" target="_blank" rel="noopener" class="source-link">Tikkunei Zohar, a foundational text of Kabbalah, explores this difficult concept in its 90th section. It speaks of an "impoverished" one, and it asks, who is it for whom the Shekhinah – the divine feminine presence – makes an argument?
The answer might surprise you. It's the "impoverished who is from the aspect of the Righteous-One." In Kabbalistic terms, this "Righteous-One" often refers to Yesod, one of the sefirot, the emanations of God. Yesod is associated with foundation, connection, and, importantly, the flow of divine energy and blessing.
But what happens when that flow is blocked? When the Righteous-One is "parched and dry," lacking the ḥaiy – the life-force, the blessings – of prayer? The Tikkunei Zohar paints a stark picture: they cry out to the Holy One, blessed be He, but as Proverbs 1:28 states, "Then shall they call Me and I will not answer."
Ouch.
It's a painful idea, isn’t it? That even sincere, heartfelt prayers can go unanswered. But the Tikkunei Zohar doesn’t leave us there. It introduces the role of the Shekhinah. We actually have two levels of Shekhinah to consider here.
The Lower Shekhinah, associated with Malkhut (Kingship), is described as “argument” – meaning, she pleads for the sake of the Righteous-One (Yesod) when he is dry and parched. The text specifies that "dry" refers to the absence of the Temple, and "parched" to the lack of libations and burnt offerings. We’re talking about a severing of connection, a disruption in the established channels of divine communication.
But the story doesn't end there. Just as the Lower Shekhinah makes an argument, so too does the Higher Shekhinah, associated with Binah (Understanding), plead with the Holy One, blessed be He, on behalf of the Righteous-One.
Think about that for a moment. Even when our prayers seem to fall on deaf ears, the divine feminine, in both its lower and higher manifestations, is actively advocating on our behalf. She is interceding, making the case for connection, for the restoration of flow.
So, what does this mean for us? It suggests that even in times of spiritual dryness, when we feel most disconnected, we are not truly alone. There is a force, a divine presence, fighting for us, urging the flow of blessing to return. The Zohar, and particularly Tikkunei Zohar, often presents complex and challenging ideas, but at its heart lies a message of hope and enduring connection. Even in silence, we are heard. Even in dryness, we are cherished.