The mystics understood that feeling deeply. They saw it as a reflection of something profound happening in the spiritual realms, a cosmic ebb and flow of souls and divine presence.
Let's dive into a passage from the Tikkunei Zohar, specifically Tikkunei Zohar 286, where Rabbi Eliezer poses a question to his father: "Father, is it so above that they learned that there is no guf (body) and no g’viyah (substance)?" His father replies that this applies to the coming world, a purely immaterial realm – an upper mother. But down here, in this world, we have the "body of this world," which the Zohar identifies as the Shekhinah below.
Now, the Shekhinah – that's a big word in Jewish mysticism. It refers to the feminine aspect of God, the divine presence that dwells among us, especially in times of exile and suffering. The Tikkunei Zohar uses the verse "Bereshit, in the beginning" (Genesis 1:1) to unlock a deeper meaning. It says this word hints at "trei esh," two fires, the two flames we refer to in the blessing "Blessed is the Creator of the lights of fire." Interesting, right? How everything connects?
And then the passage gets even more evocative. It quotes the Song of Songs (2:5): "Sustain me with cakes (ashishot)." The Zohar interprets "ashishot" as "two fires (eishot)". But why "sustain me" in this context? Ah, here's where the story gets really poignant.
This, the Zohar tells us, refers to the eves of Shabbat. You see, according to tradition, an additional soul descends on Friday to support the lower Shekhinah in exile. It's like a boost, a divine pick-me-up. But the Shekhinah is also described in the book of Amos (5:2) as "Fallen, not to rise again [is the maiden of Israel]." This paints a picture of vulnerability and need.
But as Shabbat ends, this additional soul leaves. And that's when things get a bit…intense. The text references Exodus 31:17, "[God was] refreshed (vayinafash)". The Zohar then asks, "[This is the meaning of ] vayinafash?" The answer? As soon as it leaves, woe to the soul! (vay nefesh!), for nobody is left to support her. Can you feel the drama? The urgency?
In those moments, the Shekhinah cries out to Israel: "Support me with ashishot," with lights of fires! So, what are these fires? According to the Tikkunei Zohar, they are two Torahs, carved of fire, representing ELOHIM, the aspect of might. These are "Teachings of the Lord," as Isaiah (54:13) tells us. They are two lips of burning flames, or even two apples out of which the spirit of the Messiah comes, the same spirit that Isaiah (11:2) says "shall alight on him."
We find echoes of this in Midrash Rabbah, and in Ginzberg’s Legends of the Jews, where the Torah itself is often associated with fire and divine wisdom.
So, what does it all mean? This passage isn't just a history lesson, it's about our connection to the divine. It suggests that our actions, especially our study of Torah and performance of mitzvot (commandments), can literally sustain the divine presence in the world. We are active participants in this cosmic drama. The longing we feel, that sense of something missing, is a call to action, a reminder that we have a role to play in bringing light and support to the Shekhinah.
Next time you feel that post-Shabbat ache, remember the Tikkunei Zohar, remember the two fires, and ask yourself: what light can I bring into the world?