The passage in Zohar" target="_blank" rel="noopener" class="source-link">Tikkunei_Zohar" target="_blank" rel="noopener" class="source-link">Tikkunei Zohar 92 presents us with two powerful forces: the Righteous One and the Middle Pillar. Think of them as voices in a celestial conversation. But what are they arguing about?
It all boils down to the relationship between the Father and the Mother, represented by the Hebrew vowel points qametz (ָ) and pataḥ (ַ). Now, these aren’t just random markings. In Kabbalistic thought, they represent profound spiritual energies. The qametz and pataḥ are in a state of… well, the text calls it an “argument.” A divine squabble, if you will.
And what’s causing this cosmic kerfuffle? The Shekhinah.
The Shekhinah is the divine feminine presence, the immanent aspect of God that dwells within creation, particularly during times of exile and suffering. According to the Tikkunei Zohar, the Shekhinah is in exile, and because of this, "She has no sustenance.” That's heavy. This lack of sustenance is the crux of the disagreement between the Father and Mother.
To understand this further, let's look at how these vowel points function. The pataḥ (ַ) is associated with the idea of being “open,” as in the verse from Psalms 145:16, "You open (pote-aḥ) Your hand..." The text connects this "opening" to Yod (י), which represents Ḥokhmah, or Wisdom – a primal point of divine intellect. It signifies potential, the flow of divine energy.
The qametz (ָ), on the other hand, is seen as "clenched" or closed. Yet, the same verse from Psalms ("You open Your hand and satisfy all life...") is applied to it. This is where the tension lies. How can something "clenched" also be associated with opening and satisfying life?
The Zohar implies that while the potential (pataḥ) exists, the full manifestation of divine blessing (satisfying all life) is somehow constricted (qametz). The argument, then, is about how to release that potential, how to provide sustenance to the Shekhinah in Her exile. It is this divine tension that creates a cosmic imbalance.
Think of it like a garden. The pataḥ is like the seed, full of potential. But without the right conditions, represented by the full expression of the qametz, that seed can’t fully bloom. The Shekhinah, in this analogy, is the garden itself, yearning for nourishment.
The story, as told in the Tikkunei Zohar, is a potent reminder that even within the divine, there can be struggle, tension, and a yearning for wholeness. It invites us to consider our own role in helping to "sustain" the Shekhinah, in bringing greater harmony and flow into the world. What can we do to open what feels clenched, to release the potential that's waiting to bloom? What small act of kindness, what moment of presence, can help resolve this ancient, ongoing argument and bring a little more sustenance to the divine feminine in exile?