
Come and see: Nefesh- lower arousal, cleaving to the body like the light of a candle. The lower light, which is black, cleaves to the wick, never parting from it, arrayed by it alone. Once arrayed by the wick, it becomes a throne for the white light settling upon the black light. When both are arrayed, the white light becomes a throne for concealed light- invisible, unknowable- setting upon the white light. Then the light is perfect.
So with the human being who attains total perfection and is then called 'holy,' as it is said: For the holy ones upon on earth, the majestic in whom is all My delight (Psalms 16:2).
Similarly, the supernal mystery.
- Zohar 1:83b, translation by Daniel Matt
So with the human being who attains total perfection and is then called 'holy,' as it is said: For the holy ones upon on earth, the majestic in whom is all My delight (Psalms 16:2).
Similarly, the supernal mystery.
- Zohar 1:83b, translation by Daniel Matt
R. Isaac said: When the Holy One, blessed be He, created the world and wanted to reveal the depth out of the hiddenness and the light from within the darkness, they were contained within one another. Therefore out of darkness emerged the light and out of the hiddenness emerged and was revealed in depth. One emerged from the other... And all things were contained one with another, the good inclination and the evil inclination, right and left, Israel and teh nations, white and black. All things were dependent on one another.
~ Zohar 3:80b
~ Zohar 3:80b
מעט אור דוחה הרבה חושך
M’at Or Docheh Harbeh Choshech
A bit of light can displace a lot of darkness.”
– Tanya, Chapter 12.published 1797, by R’ Shnuer Zalman of Liadi (17451812).
M’at Or Docheh Harbeh Choshech
A bit of light can displace a lot of darkness.”
– Tanya, Chapter 12.published 1797, by R’ Shnuer Zalman of Liadi (17451812).
(ג) וַיֹּ֥אמֶר אֱלֹהִ֖ים יְהִ֣י א֑וֹר וַֽיְהִי־אֽוֹר׃ (ד) וַיַּ֧רְא אֱלֹהִ֛ים אֶת־הָא֖וֹר כִּי־ט֑וֹב וַיַּבְדֵּ֣ל אֱלֹהִ֔ים בֵּ֥ין הָא֖וֹר וּבֵ֥ין הַחֹֽשֶׁךְ׃ (ה) וַיִּקְרָ֨א אֱלֹהִ֤ים ׀ לָאוֹר֙ י֔וֹם וְלַחֹ֖שֶׁךְ קָ֣רָא לָ֑יְלָה וַֽיְהִי־עֶ֥רֶב וַֽיְהִי־בֹ֖קֶר י֥וֹם אֶחָֽד׃ {פ}
(3) God said, “Let there be light”; and there was light. (4) God saw that the light was good, and God separated the light from the darkness. (5) God called the light Day and called the darkness Night. And there was evening and there was morning, a first day.
The Sages taught: On the day that Adam the first man was created, when the sun set upon him he said: Woe is me, as because I sinned, the world is becoming dark around me, and the world will return to the primordial state of chaos and disorder. And this is the death that was sentenced upon me from Heaven. He spent all night fasting and crying, and Eve was crying opposite him. Once dawn broke, he said: Evidently, the sun sets and night arrives, and this is the order of the world.
~ Avodah Zarah 8a
~ Avodah Zarah 8a
The Talmud reports that when Adam and Eve first saw the sun go down, they were panic-stricken, thinking that the setting of the sun was a consequence of their sin, and that this new, intense darkness would spell their death. They spent that entire first night weeping, until dawn broke, and they realized, to their immense relief, that this was simply the way of the world -- day followed by night, and night followed by day (Babylonian Talmud, Avodah Zarah 8a).
Now, we who come after the first couple are all aware that night is not permanent and that morning, too, will inevitably come. And our fears are usually less that night is an outgrowth of our failures and more of what it suggests, of the feelings and concerns that night has the power to elicit.
But if we think of night in metaphorical terms, who among us has never had a foreboding akin to Adam's: What if night never ends? What if meaningless and loneliness are simply all there is? We are also aware of profound links between physical darkness and existential darkness: As the days grow shorter and the nights grow longer, moods often shift, worries often mount and hope often wanes.
Judaism does not ask us to ignore this darkness and the sense of doom it might educe in us. On the contrary, it asks us to face them squarely, and then, ultimately, to defy them. But how?
In Genesis, G-d takes Abram outside and says, "Look toward heaven, and count the stars, if you are able to count them." And G-d adds, "So shall your offspring be" (Gen. 15:5). On the surface, the meaning of G-d's promise is clear: the children of Abram will be so numerous as to be beyond counting. But the great Hasidic master R. Yehudah Leib Alter of Ger (1847-1905), known as the Sefas Emes, offers a very different and deeply arresting interpretation of G-d's promise. G-d's promise, he says, is not quantitative but qualitative: To be a Jew is, like a star, to bring light to places of vast darkness. Thus, even and perhaps especially when Israel descends into the darkness of its Egypt, its mission is clear -- to light up the darkness of the most depraved and immoral parts of the world (Shemot, 1878).
Let me add one note to the Sefas Emes' comments. In understanding our mission in the world, there is something crucial to keep in mind about the nature of stars. Stars do not eliminate the darkness, but rather mitigate it; do not turn the world into a palace full of light, but rather find ways to shed light in places that would otherwise be consumed by absolute darkness.
In a similar vein, we ought to be wary, to say the least, of the fantasy that human beings can somehow remove all darkness from human life…But we can -- and to take the covenant between G-d and Israel seriously is to affirm that we must -- bring light into otherwise abandoned places, to bring flashes of meaning and companionship to places otherwise overrun by heartache and devastation.
~ Rabbi Shai Held
Now, we who come after the first couple are all aware that night is not permanent and that morning, too, will inevitably come. And our fears are usually less that night is an outgrowth of our failures and more of what it suggests, of the feelings and concerns that night has the power to elicit.
But if we think of night in metaphorical terms, who among us has never had a foreboding akin to Adam's: What if night never ends? What if meaningless and loneliness are simply all there is? We are also aware of profound links between physical darkness and existential darkness: As the days grow shorter and the nights grow longer, moods often shift, worries often mount and hope often wanes.
Judaism does not ask us to ignore this darkness and the sense of doom it might educe in us. On the contrary, it asks us to face them squarely, and then, ultimately, to defy them. But how?
In Genesis, G-d takes Abram outside and says, "Look toward heaven, and count the stars, if you are able to count them." And G-d adds, "So shall your offspring be" (Gen. 15:5). On the surface, the meaning of G-d's promise is clear: the children of Abram will be so numerous as to be beyond counting. But the great Hasidic master R. Yehudah Leib Alter of Ger (1847-1905), known as the Sefas Emes, offers a very different and deeply arresting interpretation of G-d's promise. G-d's promise, he says, is not quantitative but qualitative: To be a Jew is, like a star, to bring light to places of vast darkness. Thus, even and perhaps especially when Israel descends into the darkness of its Egypt, its mission is clear -- to light up the darkness of the most depraved and immoral parts of the world (Shemot, 1878).
Let me add one note to the Sefas Emes' comments. In understanding our mission in the world, there is something crucial to keep in mind about the nature of stars. Stars do not eliminate the darkness, but rather mitigate it; do not turn the world into a palace full of light, but rather find ways to shed light in places that would otherwise be consumed by absolute darkness.
In a similar vein, we ought to be wary, to say the least, of the fantasy that human beings can somehow remove all darkness from human life…But we can -- and to take the covenant between G-d and Israel seriously is to affirm that we must -- bring light into otherwise abandoned places, to bring flashes of meaning and companionship to places otherwise overrun by heartache and devastation.
~ Rabbi Shai Held
And to the darkness, He called night: The Sages, of blessed memory, explained in the beginning of Tractate Pesachim, that the Holy One, blessed be He, called to darkness and appointed it over the night. [By this,] our Rabbis taught us that we should not say that darkness is only the absence of light, like when - in the middle of the day - we close the windows, it becomes dark. For, if so, it would not be a creation. But in truth, darkness is a creation, on its own as well, as it is written (Isaiah 45:7), "and created the darkness." And it is great distortion to say that darkness is only the absence of light. But rather, G-d makes both of them, just as He concerns Himself over holiness and impurity. (And see what I have written later, Genesis 27:9.) And to the question, "what does this creation help, behold, even without [its] creation, there would be darkness in the absence of light?," the Sages, of blessed memory, have taught us (in the chapter "Chelek" and in Bereshit Rabbah, Parshat Noach and in the Talmud Yerushalmi in the first chapter) that the light of a fire does not shine during the day in a dark place, [with the same brightness] as it does at night when darkness reigns. And from this, lofty people were able to know while they were sitting in the dark, when it was day and when it was night - in which darkness rules. And as it is with the light and darkness of day and night, so too is it thus with all things that are compared to light and darkness; since there are many bounties that man does not feel so much when he is successful, until he becomes poor and he sees the bounty [that he once had]. And [He], may He be blessed, implanted this into His world.
~ Haamek Davar on Genesis 1:5:1
~ Haamek Davar on Genesis 1:5:1
But the great Hasidic master R. Yehudah Leib Alter of Ger (1847-1905), known as the Sefas Emes, offers a very different and deeply arresting interpretation of God's promise. God's promise, he says, is not quantitative but qualitative: To be a Jew is, like a star, to bring light to places of vast darkness. Thus, even and perhaps especially when Israel descends into the darkness of its Egypt, its mission is clear -- to light up the darkness of the most depraved and immoral parts of the world (Shemot, 1878).
Let me add one note to the Sefas Emes' comments. In understanding our mission in the world, there is something crucial to keep in mind about the nature of stars. Stars do not eliminate the darkness, but rather mitigate it; do not turn the world into a palace full of light, but rather find ways to shed light in places that would otherwise be consumed by absolute darkness.
In a similar vein, we ought to be wary, to say the least, of the fantasy that human beings can somehow remove all darkness from human life...But we can -- and to take the covenant between God and Israel seriously is to affirm that we must -- bring light into otherwise abandoned places, to bring flashes of meaning and companionship to places otherwise overrun by heartache and devastation.
~ Rabbi Shai Held
Let me add one note to the Sefas Emes' comments. In understanding our mission in the world, there is something crucial to keep in mind about the nature of stars. Stars do not eliminate the darkness, but rather mitigate it; do not turn the world into a palace full of light, but rather find ways to shed light in places that would otherwise be consumed by absolute darkness.
In a similar vein, we ought to be wary, to say the least, of the fantasy that human beings can somehow remove all darkness from human life...But we can -- and to take the covenant between God and Israel seriously is to affirm that we must -- bring light into otherwise abandoned places, to bring flashes of meaning and companionship to places otherwise overrun by heartache and devastation.
~ Rabbi Shai Held
The measure of human character is our reaction to dark times. No one can sidestep darkness. It is the throne upon which light sits. If a soul has not known sadness and struggle, there is no chance of overcoming, no cherishing the dawn.
~ Rabbi David Wolpe
~ Rabbi David Wolpe
