A world where emerging from exile might mean… utter annihilation for most. Scary, right?

That's the picture painted in Tikkunei Zohar 107. The Tikkunei Zohar, a later expansion and commentary on the foundational Zohar, dives deep into the mystical undercurrents of the Torah. Here, it wrestles with the idea of a redemption so incomplete, so conditional, that only a tiny remnant would survive.

Think about it. What if the Messianic Age arrived, but you weren't… ready?

The text draws on a verse from Jeremiah (3:14): "...one from a town, and two from a family." This isn’t a triumphant return of the masses. This is a sifting, a winnowing. The Tikkunei Zohar equates "one from a town" with Noah, a solitary figure tasked with preserving life amidst destruction. And "two from a family" becomes Shem and Japheth, his sons, accompanying him on the Ark. A family, yes, but a drastically reduced one.

But what about everyone else?

Here's where it gets even more unsettling. The text continues by referencing Noah's Ark again, this time drawing on Genesis (7:9 and 7:2) which tells us that animals entered the ark “two, two…” and “seven, seven…” And the Tikkunei Zohar equates these pairs and groups of seven with the “people of the land,” those seemingly less attuned to the spiritual currents, likened to animals, birds, and beasts. Ouch.

What does it mean? It suggests that only those who have cultivated inner spiritual awareness, those who have truly strived for connection with the Divine, will be able to withstand the transformative energies of redemption.

But there's more. The passage then shifts to holidays and festivals. It connects the "two, two" to the two days of Rosh Hashanah (New Year) and the two days of Shavuot (Festival of Weeks). It links the "seven, seven" to the seven days of Pesach (Passover) and the seven days of Sukkot (Tabernacles).

So, what’s the link? These festivals, the Tikkunei Zohar implies, offer us opportunities for spiritual refinement. They are chances to elevate ourselves, to move beyond a merely instinctual existence (the "animals, birds, and beasts") and become beings capable of embracing the full potential of redemption. Note that the text references the Talmud (BT Megillah 16b) concerning the two days of Purim.

In other words, how we approach these sacred times matters. Do we simply go through the motions? Or do we actively engage with the deeper meaning, striving to connect with the Divine spark within ourselves and the world around us?

The Tikkunei Zohar isn't just offering a historical or prophetic statement. It's presenting a challenge. It's asking us: Are you ready? Are you cultivating the inner qualities that will allow you to not only survive redemption, but to thrive in it? Are you becoming the "one from a town" or the "two from a family" through conscious spiritual work?

It’s a powerful, even unsettling, thought. But perhaps that discomfort is the point. Perhaps it's a wake-up call, urging us to make the most of every moment, every holiday, every opportunity to connect with something larger than ourselves. Because, according to this ancient wisdom, our very survival—our very spiritual survival—may depend on it.