The Zohar" target="_blank" rel="noopener" class="source-link">Tikkunei_Zohar" target="_blank" rel="noopener" class="source-link">Tikkunei Zohar, a central text of Kabbalah, dives deep into this feeling. It speaks of a separation, a cosmic rift, and our role in mending it. It points to a Shekhinah, the Divine Presence, as being "far" from the Holy One.
But what does that even mean?
The Shekhinah, in Kabbalistic thought, is often understood as the feminine aspect of God, the immanent presence that dwells within creation. When the Tikkunei Zohar says she’s "far," it suggests a disconnect between the Divine and the world, a rupture in the flow of blessing.
And here's the kicker: it's up to us to call things back into alignment. The text laments that "there is no-one who calls them to repent, so that the Shekhinah be returned to the blessed Holy One." Think about that. We have a job to do! Our actions, our intentions, our very prayers can help bridge this gap, reuniting the Divine Presence with its source.
But it also warns us about getting in our own way. The Tikkunei Zohar uses a rather harsh analogy: comparing those who don’t strive for this reunification to dogs who "mingled with the nations, and they learnt their ways" (Psalm 106:35). This "mixed multitude," as the text calls them, only do good for their own benefit. Ginzberg, in his monumental Legends of the Jews, details the complex and often problematic role of the "mixed multitude" who left Egypt with the Israelites. This isn't about judging anyone, but about highlighting the motivation behind our actions.
Are we acting out of genuine compassion, a desire to repair the world – what we call tikkun olam? Or are we just looking to satisfy our own needs?
The text continues, driving the point home. These self-serving individuals, it says, are primarily concerned with "sustenance and clothing and sexual fulfillment." These aren't inherently bad things, of course. We all need these things. The issue, as Exodus 21:10 reminds us, is that these needs can become all-consuming if not balanced by a higher purpose. The text points to the laws of marriage ( "...her provisions, her covering, and her sexual fulfillment, he shall not diminish...") to show how even fundamental needs must be handled with care and consideration for others.
So, what does this all mean for us today?
Perhaps it's a call to self-reflection. To examine our motivations. To ask ourselves if we are truly striving to bring the Shekhinah closer, to heal the world, or if we're simply chasing after our own desires. It’s a reminder that we have a role to play in the grand cosmic drama, a chance to be agents of healing and reunification. And that, my friends, is a pretty powerful thought.