Jewish mysticism has some pretty incredible ways of describing that feeling, often using imagery that's both beautiful and a little… well, mind-bending.
Today, let's dive into a passage from Zohar" target="_blank" rel="noopener" class="source-link">Tikkunei_Zohar" target="_blank" rel="noopener" class="source-link">Tikkunei Zohar, specifically Tikkun 42. The Tikkunei Zohar is a later, highly influential part of the Zohar, a foundational text of Jewish mysticism or Kabbalah. It's a collection of commentaries and interpretations, and this particular passage uses surprisingly tender imagery.
It speaks of "small-faced sucklings" – infants, really – and describes each as having four faces. Already we're in deep waters, right? But hang in there. The text continues: "Mother lies upon them, above them, and at times She is upon them, and at times She withdraws from them."
Who is this Mother?
In Kabbalah, the Divine is often described in both masculine and feminine terms. Think of it not as a literal gender, but as ways of understanding different aspects of God. This "Mother" figure, then, represents a nurturing, protective, and ever-present aspect of the Divine. The image here is one of constant, loving care. Sometimes that care is obvious, the Mother is "upon them." But sometimes it feels like She's withdrawn, "above them."
What does this withdrawal mean? Is God abandoning us?
Not at all. Sometimes, the greatest care comes from allowing us to grow, to learn, to experience things on our own. It's like a parent letting their child stumble a little, knowing they'll eventually find their footing.
But the passage doesn't stop there. It goes on to distinguish between these infants and another group: "children who are from the innards." This is where it gets really interesting. The text connects these children to a verse from Jeremiah (31:19): "Therefore my innards are moved for him." The Hebrew word used here for "innards," me’ai, suggests a deep, visceral connection.
These "children who are from the innards" are described as "beloved children," and specifically identified as "Masters of Kabbalah." They are the ones who dedicate their lives to understanding and connecting with the Divine. And for them, something is different.
The passage quotes Deuteronomy (22:6): "…do not take the mother upon the children, for Mother does not depart from them for ever."
Think about that for a moment.
For these dedicated souls, the Divine Mother's presence is constant. There's no withdrawal. No sense of abandonment. Why? Because they have cultivated such a deep connection, such an intimate understanding, that the Divine presence is always with them.
What does this mean for us, the not-necessarily-Masters-of-Kabbalah? Does it mean we’re stuck with the withdrawing Mother?
I don’t think so. This passage, at its heart, is about relationship. It's about the different ways we experience our connection to the Divine. And while we may not always feel that connection, the Zohar reminds us that the potential for deep, abiding presence is always there. Maybe it just takes a little effort, a little intention, to cultivate it. Maybe it's about becoming those "beloved children," not necessarily in status, but in heart.
The image of the Mother, both present and withdrawn, is a powerful one. It speaks to the complexities of faith, the ups and downs of our spiritual journeys. And it reminds us that even in moments of doubt or distance, the possibility of connection, of Divine presence, is always within reach.