Thursday 18 April 1991
[The introduction to the lecture
mentioned that the lecture series would
eventually be coming out as a book to
be published by the University of
Washington Press.]
[The introducer mentioned an article
in the Jerusalem Post about Scholem and
Idel. Idel has established the basis
for a critical look at Scholem's work.
Scholem's approach was historical and
contextual: he interpreted the Kabbalah
as a system of thought. Idel's approach
is phenomenological: he endeavors to
discern what the symbolism and ritual
meant to those who practised it. For
Idel, the Kabbalah is not a system of
ideas but a practical path to mystical
experience. For Scholem, Kabbalah
entered Judaism from the outside, and
was the result of the influence of Greek
gnosticism on Rabbinic Judaism. It was,
in effect, an alien heresy with an
underground existence. For Idel,
Kabbalah is an esoteric tradition
flowing from within Judaism itself,
though with links and correspondences
with other mystical traditions. Idel
feels that the study of the manuscript
tradition has just barely begun, and
that therefore most of the field has yet
to be explored.
He also feels that even the most
theoretical texts are experientially
oriented. This has led him to try to
reconstruct the techniques that were
actually used. He has done so in part
through observation of practices of
ultra-Orthodox communities in Israel -
and they in turn have come to him for
technical advice on reading and
understanding their texts.]
There is another paradigm through which the
story of the entry to Pardes can be read - one
which is not philosophical, but ecstatic. This
variety of paradigms by the way is very
important. It shows that Jews were less
interested in establishing a unified theology
than they were in finding secret interpretations
that would attract many different kinds of
people. They were open to having a different
way for each sort of person. This is a sign of
the openness of the elite culture to allowing
different approaches for a variety of people -
not so much to attract the masses, but to allow
for diversity among the elite.
This second interpretation of the Pardes was
the result of the merger of Jewish mysticism and
Neoplatonic philosophy. For Maimonides, it was
a Pardes ha Chokmah, a Pardes of Knowledge. It
had to do with the solution to cognitive
problems. For Maimonides, Adam was lost in
contemplation of metaphysical truths. Thus, for
Maimonides, R. Aqiva was the central figure, the
most perfect of the four sages.
But for some Kabbalists at the beginning of
the Thirteenth Century the major figure was not
R. Aqiva but Ben Azzai, the Talmudic master who
died. For them, the Pardes was not a matter of
intellect, but of the experience of a supreme
light. This Light was not an intellectual or
conceptual light, but an experiential light.
Ancient Jewish textual material is rich in
emphasis on the importance of light - as in
Genesis, where Light is the first created
entity. Midrashic texts portray Adam as an
entity of Light, and as having garments of
Light, which were lost after his expulsion from
Eden. In this tradition, the basic activity of
Adam was the contemplation of the Light, of the
Shekinah. The "Light of the Shekinah" is a key
term in these texts.
Both Pardes and Paradise, in this tradition,
are seen as full of Light. Adam's experience in
the Fall is the loss of the possibility of
contemplating the Light. The loss of garments
of Light leads to their replacement by garments
of skin (a pun in Hebrew). This loss of the
possibility of experience of the Light is
crucial in ancient Hebrew texts.
For example, in the Book of Adam and Seth (as
preserved in Armenia): "But Adam.. in being
stripped of the Divine Light.. became an equal
of the dumb beasts. Enoch for forty days and
nights did not eat. Then he planted a garden..
and was in it for 552 years. Then he was taken
up into heaven...." [The quotation was quite a
bit longer; unfortunately, I couldnot keep up.]
This portrays an attempt by Enoch to reconstruct
and re-enter the situation of Adam. This is a
basic pattern in later discussions of the Pardes
texts: an attempt to return to the ability to
contemplate the Light as Adam once did.
In the Hekhaloth texts, too, the idea of Light
is paramount. Pardes is described as full of
the radiance of Light.
There is a manuscript text by an unknown
author - one which I needed some 60 pages to
analyze, so we can only deal witha small part of
it here. There are some ten lines in it about
Ben Azzai (who did not return). "Ben Azzai
peeked and died. He gazed at the radiance of
the Divine Presence like a man with weak eyes
who gazes at the full light of the sun and
becomes blinded by the intensity of the light
that overwhelms him... He did not wish to be
separated, he remained hidden in it, his soul
was covered and adorned... he remained where he
had cleaved, in the Light to which no one may
cling and yet live." [Quotation approximate]
This text portrays people gazing not at a
Chariot or a marble throne, but at the radiance
of God (Tzvi ha Shekinah), a light so strong
that no one can bear it. The idea of
"overwhelming" is textually crucial. The idea
of having a great desire to cleave, as described
in the medieval text, is new. In ancient
literature, contemplation is of something far
away, across an unbridgeable gap. There is no
idea there of love, only of awe. Here, however,
we see a trace of a radical change: the
intensity of the experience is linked with a
great desire to cleave to the radiance of the
Shekinah. There is a strong experience of union
with the Divine, the result of a desire to enter
and become a part of the Divine realm. There is
an attempt to enjoy the Divine without
interruption. The language of desire implies
erotic overtones to the experience, especially
since "Shekinah" in Hebrew is feminine. The
text then is speaking about an attempt to cleave
to a feminine aspect of the Divine - also a
development unique to the medieval literature
(and not found in the ancient literature). And
also the idea of "sweet radiance" has erotic
overtones.
So what happened? He couldn't return from the
experience. The Hebrew terms are very strong.
After his death he was "hidden away in the place
of his cleaving." This death was the death of
the pious ones whose souls are separated from
all concerns with the mundane world, and who
cleave to the supernal world. It was, in other
words, not an accident but an achievement.
There is a threefold structure implied here,
reminiscent of Christian and Neoplatonic
mysticism. The first phase is the via
purgativa, "Those who are separated from all
concerns of the lowly world." The second phase
is the via illuminativa. The third phase is the
via unitiva. There is here a combination of
ancient Jewish material with pagan or Christian
Neoplatonist material to portray or interpret
the experience of Ben Azzai. This interpretive
paradigm continued in active use from the
Thirteenth through the Eighteenth centuries,
where it was used among the Hasidim. It was a
tradition that lasted 600 to 700 years, and it
is exactly the kind of tradition it is hard to
study without looking at manuscripts.
This text was also copied by a Thirteenth
Century Kabbalist who gave it an even stronger
nuance of mysticism. Ben Azzai died because of
the cleaving of his soul out of a great love;
his soul didn't return because he reached a
great attainment. The assumption: out of
intense love, his cleaving was total. Later,
there were even stronger formulations, in which
the soul and the Light become one entity.
This text is one example of texts dealing with
the unio mystica. It allows for bridging in a
total manner the gap between man and God. This
is another example of the formative power of the
Neoplatonic mystical tradition, as it also
expressed itself in Christianity and Islam.
However, for the Kabbalists the major events
took place in the past. He is reporting not on
a contemporary but on Ben Azzai. Is this simply
a matter of an intepretation? Or is there
something more to it - a practical interest?
Can we extract from the sources a method, a
practice?
In my opinion, since the end of the Thirteen
Century there is evidence that there were
experiences of Light connected with the story of
Ben Azzai and the Kabbalists who discussed it -
but this is not always simple to demonstrate.
Another anonymous text, written in 1290 or so
in Galilee, describes a technique, and afterward
describes a personal experience characterized by
amazement, confusion, and a need for
clarification and interpretation. Its author
describes the Divine Light as attracting the
Light of the soul, "which is weak in relation to
the Divine Light." (There is a magnetic
metaphor here, and we can see in this adoption
of non-traditional metaphors an attempt to come
to terms with personal experience.) This
experience was the result of letter-combination
techniques. Later the anonymous Kabbalist
attempts to describe how he approached a master
to learn a technique to stop the experience.
Thus, discussing this experience in terms of the
story of Ben Azzai is an attempt to relate
personal experience to a model. It is not
simply an attempt to provide an interpretation
for the story of Ben Azzai.
Another ecstatic Kabbalist also relates his
experience to the story of Ben Azzai: "If a man
does that which his soul wishes in the proper
ways of hitbodeduth, his soul is immersed in
this light and he will die like Ben Azzai."
The Kabbalists tried to reach the pre-fall
state of the Primordial Man, to enteragain the
radiance of the Shekinah, and even to enter a
certain erotic relationship with the Divine
Presence, as later we find in the Zohar in other
forms. They also provided, by the end of the
Thirteenth Century, certain detailed techniques.
"By letter combinations, unifications, and
reversals of letters, he shall call up the Tree
of Knowledge of Good and Evil... [list of
encounter with various polarized qualities and
entities, e.g., Mercy and Severity]... he will
be in danger of the same death as Ben Azzai."
Beginning with the end of the Fourteenth
Century, there are descriptions of Kabbalists
studying together, and of each observing the
others to see if they become luminous.
"Likewise today, if someone will look at the
faces of students who are worshipping out of
love.. you will see on them the radiance of the
Divine Presence so that those who see them will
be afraid, and each of them will have the
radiance of the Divine Presence according to his
rank." There is, in other words, the
expectation of a corporeally observable
radiance.
For Maimonides the experience of the Pardes
was mental, with no outward sign; for the
Kabbalists it was corporeal and visible.
For Maimonides, God was an intellect; for the
Kabbalists, God was a radiance.
For Maimonides, Adam was a perfect intellect;
for the Kabbalists, Adam was a creature of
Light.
For Maimonides, Paradise and Pardes were
intellectual (cerebral) states; for the
Kabbalists, they were corporeal, sensuous,
erotic, sexual and an object for practical
striving.
The Kabbalists developed techniques -
Maimonides had no clear method.
The Kabbalists attempted to describe
techniques, and signs of attainment.
Thus the Kabbalistic tradition is not one of
speculations about mysticism; it is full-fledged
mysticism. In the Kabbalistic tradition, an
extreme type of experience is sought out and
considered positive.
The mystical death is the real goal of
ecstatic Kabbalah. For Maimonides, the ideal is
to remain in a state of intellection. For the
ecstatic Kabbalists, extreme experience is final
experience.
The Pardes was thus idealized by Jewish
mystics, and given new meanings. This
idealization opened another avenue, one
exploited especially by Eighteenth Century
Hasidic mysticism. We can see a continuous line
from the beginning of the Kabbalah up to the
founder of the modern Hasidic movement who
himself quoted parts of the same text. This can
be understood as an inner Jewish development,
and not a historical accident.
Questions
Q: Did all Kabbalists wish actual death? For
those who did not, what was the rationale for
not wanting it?
A: That is a matter of the mystic's role in
society. Moses, it is said, wanted to die,
to leave the world, to remain in a state of
union. But God said he had a role as a
mystic - to reach the extreme and yet return.
But that is not the case for all Kabbalists:
not all of them were oriented toward society.
There as also a controversy about the
desirability of it, but the idea that it
could be achieved was admitted on all sides
of the controversy. It was not theologically
denied. Even those who opposed it admitted
that a total union was possible.
Q: In that case, how was Aqiva understood?
A: He was understood as someone who could
balance, who could enter and leave. Aqiva
(like Moses) could enter, but he knew when to
retreat. He knew how to combine the two.
Q: On Tuesday you discussed the role of
Halakhic ritual as a way of controlling
impulses, for Maimonides. Tonight you did
not mention it at all. Did it have a role?
A: Maimonides was a Halakhist. But most of
the Kabbalists we have mentioned were not.
Most were anonymous - they were not Halakhic
masters, but mystics. For them, keeping the
norms was not as important as reaching beyond
the norms. Basically, they were a-nomian.
They did not regard the Commandments as a
major tool. They might be preparatory, but
they were not final.
Q: Certainly not all aspects of Halakha would
have been neutral: it afforded major
opportunities for ecstatic experiences on
certain feasts, for example...
A: These Kabbalists were not unobservant, they
were not antinomian. But as mystics (rather
than as Jews) they used other types of
rituals or techniques. Ritual anyway would
be suspended at the peaks of ecstatic
experience, when one cannot do anything. The
issue is not simple - but there seems to have
been no friction. It is highly significant
that there are no critiques of the use of
mystical techniques, e.g., of combining
Divine Names. Their practice probably did
not interfere with regular Halakhic
observances.
Q: How did such experiences tend to affect
their experience of the material world? Did
it enhance their opinion of it? Lower it?
A: Here we touch on the paradoxical connection
of the mystic and the prophetic mission. As
ecstatics, they were escapist. But they also
felt that the experience prompted or provoked
a mission. In coming back, the return was
interpreted as a being sent forth, as having
a mission. This offered a rationale for
coming back. "You are permitted to return if
you are needed." Thus there was a tension
between the drive for attainment and the
feeling of a mission.
Q: What about free will? Could one say that
Ben Azzai got what he wanted, and that Aqiva
got what he wanted?
A: Not exactly. At a moment in an experience
one may be caught up or captured by another
dynamic. You may lose control; free will may
be overwhelmed, overridden.
Q: Is there an attempt to revive these things
in Israel?
A: Yes; some are studying and practising these
techniques.
Q: For example?
A: Breathing, letter combination - I have
contacted at least ten people I know.
Q: They base this on Kabbalistic descriptions?
A: They ARE Kabbalists.
Q: In this Kabbalistic context God is
described as radiance, energy, but in basic
Judaism God is also anthropomorphic,
interested in the world. Is there a
connection?
A: If one is speaking about erotic experience,
there must be some sense of a personalistic
object. The Kabbalists tried to compromise
between anthropomorphic and spiritualistic
content. The Sefiroth were seen as a
structure of Light, but also as corporeal.
They were able to shape the anthropomorphic
content to a more spiritual, energic model.
[Afterward, as is usual at such lectures,
people approached the speaker with
congratulations, comments, and assorted
questions. Two stand out.]
[A thin, intense young man kept asking Idel
about energy experiences, and the sense of
"energy coming in," and asked if anyone had
done any EEG studies of Kabbalists. Idel
said that Judaic studies were still in their
infancy; mostly they were textual studies, an
attempt to figure out what the texts actually
said and what they were about - and even just
to find them and get them edited and printed.
No one had gotten to doing anything else,
though he knew of the work by Ornstein and
others, and thought it would be interesting
to do in a Kabbalistic context.
[The young man, consumed by his questioning,
didn't quite see Idel's point about the
emphasis on textual scholarship; Idel
gradually realized the young man wanted
advice about his own meditational
experiences, and was a little taken aback,
and tried to achieve polite closure.
[Idel turned to another questioner, who
asked something textual:
Q: You mentioned that these techniques became
discussed and elaborated in the Thirteenth
Century or so. Is there any textual evidence
for their source?
A: Yes; in fact some of them can be found in
texts of the Hellenistic period, especially
those involving breathing and letter
combination and visualization. They seem to
be a part of a general fund of such
techniques at the time, parallel to similar
things one finds in Hellenistic magical
papyri, for example.
[Then, as though realizing then that the
young man's questions {about what it meant
when energy came in, as opposed to finding
oneself elsewhere, about the dangers of
possession, and so on} were pressing, Idel
turned back {despite attempts by various
professors to ease him out of the hall} and
began quietly to address himself to his
queries.]
[end of part II]
