Issue no. 10, January 26, 2007
Since the 16th century, Kabbalists have had a custom of celebrating Tu BeShvat (the 15th of Shvat, the fifth month in the Hebrew calendar) in a special ceremony that they established. They set the table full of fruits from the Land of Israel, put on their Sabbath clothes, drink wine from the vineyards of the land, and study The Book of Zohar.
Today, however, only few know the Kabbalistic meaning of Tu BeShvat. To Kabbalists, this is an important holiday because it signifies the apex to which humanity can, and should reach, which they have likened to a ripe fruit.
Tu BeShvat is a holiday of fruits, spiritual fruits that each of us can attain during our lives, through studying the wisdom of Kabbalah. All the conditions to bring our lives to a better place are already here, and we need only add a little bit of the wisdom of Kabbalah to our lives.
Tu BeShvat is also considered the New Year for trees. For us, it is a chance to thrive anew. Hence, in this issue we have chosen to introduce you to a manual for spiritual growth, based on authentic Kabbalah sources.
We wish everyone a happy Tu BeShvat, in the hope that together we will reach the height of the spiritual ladder, and celebrate the festival of life, the spiritual Tu BeShvat.
For
generations,
Kabbalists
have
been
using
the
growth
process
of
trees
to
describe
the
spiritual
process
we
humans
experience
from
the
beginning
of
our
way
to
the
achievement
of
perfection.
Kabbalists
vividly
described
our
growth
process,
which
eventually
yields
sweet
and
tasty
spiritual
fruits,
relying
on
their
own
experiences.
Their
writings
describe
the
holiday
of
Tu
BeShvat
as
a
symbol
of
the
apex
that
the
whole
of
creation
can
and
should
reach.
And
they
have
likened
it
to
a
ripe
fruit.
It is unclear when the 15th of Shvat became a holiday. Some say it had begun at the time of the Mishnah, and some date it to the 16th century CE, when the holiday received its special meaning from the Kabbalists of Zephath (a Kabbalists’ city in the north of Israel), who also established the “Seder night of the trees” (the special ritual).
On this holiday, Kabbalists would wear their most festive clothes, decorate the tables with flowers and myrtle branches, and set the tables full of fruits from the Land of Israel and wine. Afterwards the Kabbalists would sit around the table and study in The Book of Zohar.
Kabbalists declared this holiday an opportunity for all of us to pick the best fruit that awaits us in life—the spiritual life.
--Baal HaSulam, “Introduction to the Book of Zohar,” item 40
In life, we set ourselves goals and hope that we will be happy once we achieve them. The fruit, the reward that is before us at that moment seems so appealing that we make great efforts to attain it. We dedicate years to learn a trade, we raise a family, and find ourselves struggling for most of our lives to provide for our children and secure their future.
Sometimes, when we want some stimulation in life, we go on a trip overseas. This was the fruit that we craved, but the pleasure it gave us was fleeting, and once again we are back to our routine.
If we examine our lives, we will find that our aspirations change constantly. Yesterday’s fruit is replaced with another goal and does not seem desirable anymore. It seems that even what we have achieved, as good as it may be, no longer satisfies us. Something within us does not let us rest. It keeps pushing us to search for greater fruit.
Our lives are an endless pursuit of happiness. At times, this pursuit evokes frustration and disappointment, and thus, at some point we begin to feel that the world is becoming too small and unsatisfying.
Rabbi Yehuda Ashlag, known as Baal HaSulam, described this feeling beautifully in the allegory about the worm in the radish. He wrote that when we are still unaware of the beautiful and sublime fruit we are impelled to seek, we feel that our whole existence is limited to chasing the fleeting, unsatisfying goals we have been chasing thus far. The worm doesn’t know anything but the bitter and dark radish it was born in. This is why it is certain that the whole reality is as bitter as that.
But as soon as we hear about the sweet and ripe fruit that awaits us, and the way to obtain that fruit, we, like the worm, can lift our heads outside of the radish and see the brightly lit and beautiful spiritual world that awaits us. Baal HaSulam stressed in his writings that if we only open our eyes a bit, we will see that the way to perfection is right around the corner.
--Rabbi Baruch Ashlag, letter no. 18
Throughout history, Kabbalists have been making great efforts to adapt the wisdom of Kabbalah to a special time, when the generation would be ripe and the wisdom of Kabbalah would have to emerge in public. They have been preparing it for our time all along.
Since the time of the Ari, all the great Kabbalists have been calling to disseminate the method to attain the spiritual world to the masses. In the beginning of the twentieth century, the two great Kabbalists, Rav Kook and Baal HaSulam, continued the Ari’s legacy, and brought the method closer to us, so we may understand and implement it. By doing that, they prepared the ground for our generation and have turned the dissemination of the wisdom of Kabbalah from vision into actual reality.
Rabbi Baruch Ashlag (Rabash), Baal HaSulam’s firstborn son and successor, wrote simple and practical instructions for a better life, and thus turned the process of spiritual growth, symbolized by Tu BeShvat, into something we can all relate to, and carry out.
The Rabash interpreted the verse, “For is the tree of the field a man” (Deuteronomy 20:19), and explained that it is really about us. As the tree yields the sweet and good-to-eat fruit at the peak of its growth, we, too, will bear a wholesome fruit, meaning we will reach the greatest degree of evolution in reality.
In a special letter he wrote to his students, the Rabash likened a person’s growth to the growth of a tree. He clearly outlined each of the phases a student experiences from the first encounter with the wisdom of Kabbalah, which is the moment the seed is placed in the ground, to the moment the tree (student) bears the ripe fruit, the moment the student reaches the highest spiritual degree.
--Rabbi Baruch Ashlag, letter no. 18
The first step to take in order to move forward is called “sowing.” When trees are involved, the most important thing for healthy growth is to choose a fertile and suitable ground, to provide the seed with the best conditions for growth. Similarly, to evolve in spirituality, we need to find the best environment for us, which provides the necessary conditions for our progress.
The Rabash explained that the environment that affects our lives is not merely the street we live in, or our close circle of friends. Our environment also contains all the sources from which we derive information about the world around us. This information affects the way we think and the way we perceive reality.
Concerning the issue of the right environment, the Rabash stated very simply that the more one is interested in the wisdom of Kabbalah and reads from authentic sources, the better one will prepare for oneself a suitable environment, adapted for spiritual growth.
In the past, it was difficult to find such an environment. Kabbalah books were difficult to understand and there weren’t many teachers who taught the inner meaning of the wisdom of Kabbalah. Today, however, there is a wide variety of sources through which we can study this wisdom. To understand the spiritual treasure that Baal HaSulam and Rabash left for us, we can apply such contemporary tools as the Internet, TV, and even through the paper, Kabbalah Today, distributed free for all.
These means awaken one to search for the spiritual reality and guide one on the path toward it. Thus, step by step, one learns to incorporate the wisdom of Kabbalah in the mundane chores of life.
Once we have chosen a good environment, we must “fertilize” the soil. When it concerns our spiritual path, this term receives a deeper meaning. Spirituality, which seemed unimportant or unnecessary only a moment ago, begins to take a more important place in our lives and adds a positive and hopeful aspect that wasn’t there before. The disillusionment that many of us experienced in the past is replaced with joy, gladness and understanding of life.
We begin to understand the reason for events in our lives, and our connection to the authentic Kabbalah sources provides us with confidence. We discover that it is precisely these sources that can promote us to obtaining “real fruit” in our lives—wholesome, eternal, spiritual fruit.
The new importance that spirituality receives in our eyes, adds vitality to our lives in such a way that we are continually rejuvenated and revived by it. These forces assist in our progress and make our environment more fertile. What used to be considered “waste” in our eyes is turned into a fertilizer that promotes our spiritual progress.
For the seed to bud and strike roots, the ground must be made ready. It has to be turned and hoed. The Rabash wrote that just as you dig at the roots of the trees, a person should dig and research the reason he or she has come into this world. Yet, as we are rising on the ladder of spiritual progress, the question about the meaning of life becomes a source of light on our way toward the goal. We learn how to research the deepest layers of reality and how to instill the light of the Kabbalah into our lives.
The next phase on the spiritual ladder, which Rabash tells us about, is called “dusting.” When it is about the nurturing of the tree, it is customary to cover the exposed roots with dust so the roots can continue to grow safely. Like the tree, we encounter doubts on our spiritual path. At times, we face disbelief in our ability to complete the spiritual journey and achieve the ripe fruit.
When this happens, we must “dust up” these thoughts, to fight them and remove them from our path. In other words, we have to “cover” them. When we encounter such a state we need to place the words of the Kabbalists above our emerging doubts. Kabbalists, who’ve already been through the path we are now marching on, guide and lead us safely toward the phases ahead.
For the tree to bear sweet and edible fruits, we must cut off all the dry branches that are still hanging and arrest the growth of the fruits.
As children, we are greatly influenced by the environment we grow up in. These values permeate us with ambitions, conventions, and stigmas concerning reality, which cause us to chase only transient fruits.
This environment does not “plant” in us values and knowledge about the existence of the real fruit, the spiritual and concrete fruit of our lives. On the contrary, society has brought us up to achieve anything we want in life, even without understanding the spiritual reality. Yet, when one evolves in spirituality, he or she begins to feel how the conventions one grew up on, without sufficient explanation about the meaning of life, become “dry.”
Just as a dry branch cannot bear fruit and should be removed from the tree, we learn how to gradually remove what detains us from understanding the real meaning of our lives. Rabash calls this act, “pruning.” We “prune” the dry branches off the tree.
Next in the “manual” that Rabash wrote in this letter, he explains about additional actions we need to perform in more advanced stages of our spiritual evolution. We “remove calluses,” “graft,” “smoke,” and remove redundant twigs. These actions guide us on our way toward the highest phase: a man (in the spiritual sense) who is yielding ripe fruits.
In many writings, the spiritual leaders of the nation likened a man to the tree of the field. They wanted to show us that each of us can grow and bear spiritual fruits, while still living in this world. Like the tree, we are standing on the ground, strike roots in it and grow up toward spirituality.
We begin our spiritual progress as a small nucleus, when the question about the meaning of our lives awakens in us. At that time, we are already ripe and ready to come to know the spiritual and corporeal realities alike. As we evolve, we find answers to the essential questions we have been asking throughout our lives.
Moreover, this point brings with it a complete perception of the Upper Force. We unite with it, and the world that used to be dark and bitter in our eyes seems bright, wonderful, and wondrous. The New Year’s Day for the trees is to us, a symbol of new evolvement.
Today we have all that is required to bring our lives to a better place. The ground is fertile and qualified for spiritual growth, and all we need to do is add a little bit of Kabbalah into our lives. When we do, we will all reach the apex of the spiritual ladder, and together, as a single, united nation, we will all celebrate the spiritual Tu BeShvat, the celebration of life.
The tree symbolizes a person who has ripened to the decision that he or she feels the need to develop in spirituality. To do that, one must “plant” oneself in fertile ground and cultivate one’s growth until one’s fruits ripen. Kabbalists tell us that the order of works that one performs on oneself during the spiritual growth is tantamount to the various works we do when we cultivate trees.
To make the land where a tree grows fertile, it must be fertilized. Similarly, with people, once they have chosen a good environment, one that supports spiritual growth, they must cultivate the land. Concerning one’s spiritual path, this means that spirituality, which only a moment ago seemed unimportant or unnecessary, begins to take a more important place in our lives. Of all our desires and thoughts, we should choose only those that contribute to our spiritual progress.
The growth of a tree depends on the soil it grows in. For the seed to bud and strike roots, the soil must be cultivated, turned and hoed. In much the same way, a person’s spiritual growth depends on his or her research of one’s goal in life. An individual should “dig up” and discover the aim for which one came into this world, and through such internal scrutiny one revives one’s spiritual roots, and consequently the branches that the roots nourish.
Just as we remove calluses, the defects in the tree, we should do the same in our spiritual work. Calluses symbolize superficial signs of one’s spiritual work. One must be wary of these superficial signs, as they may cause envy in people who see them, and thus harm one’s spiritual development. This is why a person should hide it from others.
Leaves symbolize all the works through which one yields fruits, and the fruits symbolize one’s ability to work for the benefit of others. A person begins the spiritual way with an egoistic intention, for oneself. This is called Lo Lishma (Not for Her Name). But the more one progresses on the spiritual path, the more he or she becomes remote from this intention, removes the leaves from the tree, and bears the fruits. In Kabbalah, this process is called “from Lo Lishma, one comes to Lishma (For Her Name). By Lishma, we are referring to acts that are purely for the benefit of others.
In growing trees, it is customary to cover the roots with dust, so the roots can continue to grow unharmed. A “root” is a thought, which is “the root of the act.”
Like the tree, we, too, encounter doubts on our spiritual path. Sometimes we also encounter disbelief in our ability to complete our journey. When we come across such a state, we must place the words of Kabbalists above the doubts emerging in us, and “cover” the doubts with them. Kabbalists, who have already been through the phases we are experiencing, guide and lead us safely toward the phases we are still awaiting.
As we cut the wet branches off the tree, we should also note that we do not study too much, and only for the purpose of learning. In other words, even when the wisdom of Kabbalah we have acquired is still “wet,” meaning true and real, we should not immerse ourselves in wisdom only to enjoy it. Rather, we should remember that the goal of the study is to become similar to the Creator and achieve love of others.
As we smoke under the tree to put the worms in it to death, we should also “burn” our work from yesterday, the degree we have already achieved. Otherwise, it will hinder our growth. This is the only way by which we can reach life’s purpose.
Even (stone) comes from the word Havanah (understanding). Just as we remove the stones from the field, we should make the ground ready for our spiritual work, and remove the egoistic understandings that we have in the beginning of our way. Such an act is called “removing stones,” because in it, one should remove from oneself the understanding that allowed one to enjoy only when working out of self-love. This is because true, complete, and eternal pleasure can only be found in love of others.
For a tree to bear sweet and edible fruit, we must cut off all the dry branches that are still hanging on it, and detain the growth of the fruit.
As children we absorb many influences from the environment we grow up in. These values instill ambitions in us, conventions, and stigmas concerning reality, which make us seek only temporary and fleeting fruits. These values are called “dry leaves” because they cannot bear fruits. As a dried out branch cannot bear fruit and should be removed, we learn how to gradually remove what detains us from understanding the true meaning of our lives.
Pleasure, prohibition, life, death, and sin, punishment, the Tree of Life, and the Tree of Knowledge. All the classic elements of drama exist in the mysterious story of the Garden of Eden. Nothing is more tempting than the forbidden fruit, but which of us is willing to pay the price for its flavor?
We all want to enjoy life. We want a good partner, health, wealth, good food, social esteem, happiness, and success. These desires direct the course of our lives: those who like thrills and risks may try bungee jumping, those who like to eat will probably spend their time and money in good restaurants, and those who like quiet simply turn off their cell phones.
Along with all these whims, a new and special wish sometimes awakens in our hearts—to reveal the hidden force that directs our lives behind the scenes. Those who have that wish, often study the wisdom of Kabbalah.
Just as professional athletes maintain a strict practice routine and watch their weight, economists are always “on top” of the latest data on foreign exchange rates, and journalists gather every piece of information to stay in tune. Similarly, Kabbalists do their very best to maintain their contact with the Upper Force.
However, maintaining contact with the Upper Force is not a goal in and of itself. It is a means that helps a Kabbalist learn from the Creator how to control one’s life and how to handle one’s desires. The relationship between the Creator and a person is somewhat similar to a parent-child relationship.
The child, for example, may play with a toy car, and imitate its parents’ movements, making similar sounds to the engine hum and moving the car around. When the child grows, he or she will shift from driving a toy car to driving a real one. In much the same way a Kabbalist observes the Creator’s actions in our world and tries to emulate them.
According to the wisdom of Kabbalah, a person who wishes to be like the Upper Force is called Adam (a man), from the words Adamme La Elyon, “I will be like the Most High” (Isaiah 14:14). A person receives the precise instructions for maintaining contact with the Upper Force as soon as one is created. These instructions are described in the story of the Garden of Eden as two trees: the Tree of Life, and the Tree of Knowledge.
Kabbalists tell us that a person’s spiritual life relies on maintaining constant contact with the Creator. For this reason, they do all that they can to prefer contact with the Creator to all other desires that surface in them. Kabbalists do not detach themselves from other desires. Rather, they focus on the desire that is most important to them—the desire to remain connected to the Creator.
According to the wisdom of Kabbalah, the soul of each of us consists of 613 desires. These desires are divided into two kinds:
248
desires
with
which
we
can
come
closer
to
the
Creator,
hence
we
are
permitted
to
use
them.
These
desires
are
called
“The
Tree
of
Life”
(upper
part
of
picture)
365 desires that we are initially forbidden to use because the pleasure we would derive from using them would detach us from spirituality. These desires are called “The Tree of Knowledge” (bottom part of picture).
The commandment to eat of the Tree of Life, to use the 248 desires, is meant to explain to us how we can come closer to the Creator. Similarly, the prohibition on eating from the Tree of Knowledge describes the limitations we must take upon ourselves, the desires we should be careful from using, as they would detach us from the Creator.
Kabbalists
explain
that
the
word
“forbidden”
actually
means
“impossible.”
Hence,
the
meaning
of
the
prohibition
on
eating
of
the
Tree
of
Knowledge
was
that
Adam
could
not
use
the
365
desires
to
strengthen
his
bond
with
the
Creator.
On
the
contrary,
if
he
were
to
use
them,
meaning
eat
of
the
Tree
of
Knowledge,
it
would
detach
him
from
the
Upper
Force
and
he
would
stop
feeling
him,
a
state
described
as
“spiritual
death.”
This
is
our
present
state.
Indeed, after Adam ate from the Tree of Knowledge despite the prohibition, he discovered how difficult it was to maintain contact with the Creator, once the 365 intense desires that comprise the Tree of Knowledge appear.
Yet, we must understand that Adam’s sin was not a misfortunate event. It was premeditated by the Creator. Its purpose was to bring Adam to a state where he would eventually be able to use all 613 desires unboundedly.
As a consequence of the sin, all of Adam’s desires broke, like a puzzle whose pieces have been taken apart and mixed, until you can’t tell where each piece belongs.
Thus, Adam lost even his ability to use the 248 desires that he could use prior to the breaking. This is how Adam fell to the most remote place from the Creator: this world. But the mingling of the permitted and forbidden desires caused the pieces that are permitted for use to exist in all the desires. Hence, once these desires are corrected, it will make all 613 desires permitted for use. Because of this shattering and mingling process, each person contains all the desires, of both kinds—permitted and forbidden.
The story of the Garden of Eden teaches us about our present role. To reunite the puzzle that was shattered by Adam’s sin, we must relearn how to use the Tree of Life and avoid using the Tree of Knowledge. In other words, we must reacquire the ability to distinguish which of our desires are “usable” and apply the right method of using them. This will reinstate our solid and continued connection with the Upper Force, which, in turn, will lead us toward happiness and perfection. And the method that teaches us all that, is called “the wisdom of Kabbalah.”
--From a bill of bond among Kabbalists in Jerusalem.
The year was 1751, the place—Jerusalem. A young man who had recently arrived from Yemen, his clothes tattered, and who was working as a servant, was declared as the head of the Beit-El group of Kabbalists. This was his recently deceased teacher’s will. The town’s men were shocked; certain it must be a mistake. Only few knew the truth, the devoted students who witnessed the events that took place behind closed doors, and they understood.
From that day on, Rabbi Shalom Sharabi (The Rashash), worked to disseminate the wisdom of Kabbalah along with his friends. He led them to new heights of spirituality and together they established a society on the basis of the law of love—reality’s comprehensive law. They gave it the name “The Society of Love of Peace,” and they signed a covenant of brotherhood.
Now let’s return to the start of the story…
Sana, Yemen’s capital, 1720.
A handsome boy was born to the Sharabi family, and was given the name Shalom. As was the custom among Yemenite Jews, Shalom, too, studied Torah with the “Mari,” the children’s tutor.
But young Shalom’s soul did not settle for studying the ordinary Torah and the routine life. He felt that the stories of the Torah contained a much deeper meaning, and he wanted to experience them. His soul yearned for higher worlds; this world was too narrow for him.
At night, by the candlelight, when everyone was fast asleep, Shalom dove into the books of Kabbalah. As he read, a sensation surfaced within him that if he did not take his life in his own hands, he would leave the world as he had come into it. Kabbalah taught him that there is only one purpose to life: to discover the Creator, the spiritual worlds. Thus, he decides to act, to immigrate to the Land of Israel all by himself. The name of the land testifies to his new goal in life: Yashar (straight) El (God), straight to the Creator.
Alas, his father died unexpectedly, and Shalom, the firstborn, was summoned to provide for his widowed mother and orphaned brothers. He was forced to roam from village to village and offer his merchandise in markets. Thus he wandered, alone on the hills, in the rain and heat, just him and nature, and the Creator.
Shalom concealed what was happening inside of him from everyone. He seemed like a very ordinary youth, while in the meantime the light of Kabbalah was shining within him and his soul was soaring up the spiritual ladder.
To people around him, it seemed as though he was troubled by financial matters, or beasts and robbers lurking on the desert roads, but Shalom was disturbed by completely different things. His heart was aching because of the “exile of Divinity,” because people were detached from the wisdom of Kabbalah, unaware of the possibility of transcending to a great and bright world, greater than they could ever imagine.
He became increasingly determined to dedicate his life to disseminating the wisdom of truth, to help the spiritual evolution of the world. A few decades later, not long before he died, his one request was “Disseminate the wisdom of Kabbalah, for the exile of Divinity… for which I have dedicated myself, depends on this study” (The Light of The Rashash, p. 158).
At the age of 18, Shalom bid his family farewell and began his long journey to the Land of Israel. With a small pack, some food and water, a Kabbalah book, and a burning heart, Shalom set forth to Eden, Yemen’s port city, which was then Yemen’s gate to the big world.
In this colorful city filled with scents and flavors, as is any port city, Shalom found an odd job at the local market and saved his pennies. When he had saved enough, he bought a ticket and boarded a ship that sailed to Bombay, India. In those days, this was a common route by which people traveled to the Land of Israel. The next stop on his journey was Babylon.
The weeks of traveling in the ocean where only the background setting for his inner journey. As did Abraham the Patriarch, the founder of the wisdom of Kabbalah, thousands of years earlier, Shalom began to seek other people who were interested in transcending the boundaries of this world. As soon as he docked at the port in Basra, Iraq, he joined a convoy of merchants, heading north through the desert to Bagdad. There, he knew, the Kabbalists were waiting.
Shortly after he arrived in Bagdad, Shalom found the city’s Kabbalists’ group and joined it. He did not tell them anything about his own merits, but sat in the back and listened attentively to the words of The Book of Zohar and the Holy Ari that were being studied.
Years later, the greatest Kabbalist of the Babylonian Diaspora, Rabbi Yosef Chaim, Ha Ben Ish Chay, said about The Rashash: “This righteous, before his light shown in Jerusalem, came to the land of Bagdad and his feet walked the streets of our city, but his glory was unknown to our town’s men, to crown him over them. Happy is the eye that had seen him.” Rabbi Yosef Chaim also said, “When our rabbi, The Rashash, came, he hid, so he would not present himself as wise, but as an ordinary person, a passing stranger. And he was detained here until a convoy headed for Damascus came along his way” (Ha Ben Ish Chay, Ben Yehoyadah).
In Damascus, capital of Syria, the poor man who arrived from Yemen worked as a wagoner to save for the last part of his journey to the Land of Israel. When his time permitted, he would visit the seminary where the local Kabbalists were learning, as was the custom throughout the Jewish Diaspora of the East.
Here, too, he did not tell them who he really was and would sit humbly in the back. When the time came, Shalom was on the road again. As soon as he arrived in the Land of Israel, Shalom went to Jerusalem and made his way to the Kabbalists of Beit-El. He turned directly to the head of the seminary, Rabbi Gedalia Chayun, and told him that he was a penniless orphan, that he came from Yemen, and asked for Rabbi Chayun’s mercy. He was accepted as a caretaker whose job was to set the tables, put the books back in place, and light the lamps. Thus, day after day, Shalom would spend his days in the company of the wisdom of Kabbalah, pretending to be a hardworking servant.
And then it happened. As if he had gone insane, time and time again, Rabbi Chayun failed to answer his students’ questions. Shalom’s heart did not let him stand aside and keep silent while his friend was in need of spiritual assistance. But what was he to do? He did not want to expose who he really was; the time had not yet come.
He arranged a little ploy instead: Shortly before midnight, when the Kabbalists would come to the seminary, he would write the answers to the questions on a note, and hide it in Rabbi Gedalia’s book. There was no end to Rabbi Gedailia’s and his students’ joy, but no one knew who was placing the notes from time to time. Rabbi Gedalia pleaded with his students to find out who was doing it, but their efforts were in vain.
Hannah, Rabbi Gedalia’s pretty young daughter, had heard of the story and decided she would be the one to unveil the mystery. Night after night she hid behind a window in the seminary and waited patiently. One night, while she was standing at the window, freezing in the cold Jerusalem wind, she caught a glimpse of the servant Shalom, entering silently, lighting the wick of a small oil lamp, and with great reverence writing something on a note. He looked in all directions, and then hid the note in her father’s book.
The secret had become known. When Rabbi Gedalia learned about it, he made Shalom the servant sit at his side, at the head of the table, and in time made him his successor. Hannah, his daughter, whose heart went out to Shalom, married him, and this was the start of a new period in the life of Rabbi Shalom Sharabi. He was no longer a hidden Kabbalist, but the foremost Kabbalist among the Kabbalists of Beit-El.
The Rashash learned, and taught, Kabbalah strictly according to the method of the Holy Ari. He devoted the bulk of his time to writing interpretations to the wisdom of Kabbalah, with the goal of spreading it. He became famous, and many people who sought to realize their life’s goal contacted him in search of spiritual guidance.
The first Admor of Belz asked to be given the book A River of Peace and the manuscript to the prayer book that The Rashash had written. Seventy-seven letters with questions concerning spiritual matters were sent to him from Tunisia, and he answered them all with patience and love. Among his students were great Kabbalists such as Rabbi Chaim Yosef David Azulai (HaChida), Rabbi Yom Tov Aldazi, and Rabbi Chaim de la Roza.
“The Temple was ruined because of unfounded hatred, and our task is to increase the love of Israel and make it unfounded love” (The Light of The Rashash, p. 161). With this spirit in mind, he and his students built a model of a corrected society, where everyone was responsible for everyone else. “Each will treat his friend as if he is an inseparable part of himself, with his heart and soul” (from a bill of bond among the Kabbalists of Jerusalem).
Today, as alienation and unfounded hatred are undermining the foundation of our people, we must reacquaint ourselves with the vast wisdom that was a source of life to The Rashash, and to all the sages of Israel throughout the generations, and which we have lost in the years of exile—the wisdom of Kabbalah.
The wisdom of Kabbalah will allow us to replenish the principles by which the people of Israel was established and persisted. These are the same principles by which Kabbalists established their little groups, which formed a role-model for the corrected, future society. Just like those Kabbalists, we, too should help each other rise above our egoistic desires, acquire the Creator’s quality of love and giving, and enjoy the bounty, perfection, and eternity that the Creator wants to grant us all.
“I know that the people of Israel will be freed by the merit of the holy Book of Zohar and the writings of the Kabbalah that will expand in the world. Our redemption depends on this study.”
--The Rashash, The Light of The Rashash, p. 159
“The
flowers
appear
on
the
earth;
the
time
of
singing
is
come,
and
the
voice
of
the
turtle
is
heard
in
our
land”
(Song
of
Songs,
2:12).
In
the
essay
“The
Flower
Buds,”
Rabbi
Shimon
Bar-Yochai
(Rashbi)
explains
how
a
person
climbs
to
the
highest
degree
of
the
spiritual
ladder.
Each word in The Book of Zohar holds a special meaning. Hence, when The Zohar tells us that “Rabbi Shimon opened” implies that that Rabbi Shimon is opening the channels of Higher Abundance to the reader in The Book of Zohar.
The flowers are the act of creation, the start of the spiritual path. According to Kabbalah, “land” means “desire,” a symbol of the initial desire that awakens in the creature to march on the spiritual path.
The expression “The flowers have appeared on the earth” symbolizes the beginning of the spiritual process that the creature will experience. The appearance of the flowers in the tree represents the start of the growth of the fruit. Similarly, the “flowers” in a person symbolize the beginning of one’s spiritual way.
The wisdom of Kabbalah explains that the word “day” represents the Creator’s act on the creature. The six days of creation are like the actions through which the Creator elevates the creature into spirituality, until He brings a person to the final correction, which occurs on the seventh day, the Sabbath.
The third day symbolizes the appearance of the third act of correction by which the Creator develops the creature’s soul. The meaning of the words, “the earth brought forth” is that the soul is beginning to be corrected by the Creator, and receives His quality of giving.
The words “appeared on the earth” stand for the appearance of the Creator’s qualities in the creature. At this stage, the creature begins a correction process at the end of which it is destined to bear spiritual fruits.
On the fourth day, the time of the pruning has arrived. (In Hebrew, “nightingale” and “pruning” are the same word, Zamir, which comes from the word Mazmera, pruning shears). The time of the pruning indicates an advanced stage of spiritual growth in the creature. At this stage, the creature feels it is time for spiritual ascent. Such a person understands that he or she must bid farewell to one’s present state and begin to rise.
The pruning symbolizes this act. At this stage, the Light of the Creator leaves the creature, to allow it to rise on its own. The missing letter, Vav, from the word Me’orot (lights) is a symbol of that leaving.
“The voice of the turtledove is the spiritual ascent that the creature experiences in the Creator’s fifth act upon it. On the fifth day, it is written, “Let the waters swarm with swarms of living creatures.”
When it says that something is written, it means that it appears in the creature. In Kabbalah, “water” indicates the quality of the Sefira Bina, the quality of giving. The water seeps through the land (the creature’s desire) and in that, it is like the Creator’s quality, which seeps into the desire of the creature. These are the “progenies,” meaning the desirable results that The Book of Zohar speaks of. Thus, on the fifth day, the creature ascends to the level of the Creator.
“Hearing” implies the arriving of the sixth day, when the last act of correction occurs: “Let us make man.” Now, after many acts that the Creator has already performed on the creature’s desire to enjoy, the creature is ready to realize its purpose—to resemble the Creator and obtain sensations of eternity and perfection. The creature is called “Adam” from words Adamme la Elyon (I will be like the Most High), because of its task: to resemble the Creator.
“The earth” is our desires. The Sabbath is the highest spiritual state, in which the creature corrects all its desires and is awarded the perfect spiritual life (the land of life). This is the sublime spiritual state that a Kabbalist attains even while still alive. This is called “the next world.”
By
observing
nature’s
systems,
we
understand
that
any
being
of
the
four
types—still,
vegetative,
animate
and
speaking—as
a
whole
and
in
particular,
is
placed
under
particular
guidance.
This
is
a
slow
and
gradual
growth
by
way
of
cause
and
effect,
like
a
fruit
on
the
tree
is
guided
with
favorable
guidance
to
finally
become
a
sweet
and
fine-looking
fruit.
And go and ask a botanist “How many phases the fruit undergoes from the time it becomes visible until it is completely ripe?” Not only do its preceding phases show no evidence of its sweet and fine-looking end, but as if to vex, they show the opposite of the final outcome: the sweeter the fruit at its end, the more bitter it is in the earlier phases of its development.
Thus, it is evident that His guidance over the reality that He has created is in the form of purposeful Guidance, without taking into account the order of the phases of development, for they deceive us and prevent us from understanding their purpose, being always in an opposite position to their final shape.
It is about such matters that we say, “None are as wise as he who is experienced.” This is because only he who is experienced has the opportunity to examine creation in all its phases of development, all the way through completion, and he can calm things down and not fear those spoilt images that creation undergoes in the phases of its development, but believe in its fine and unique outcome.
Thus
we
have
thoroughly
shown
the
conduct
of
His
providence
in
our
world,
which
is
only
a
purposeful
care,
that
the
attribute
of
goodness
is
not
apparent
before
the
coming
of
the
creature
to
completeness,
to
its
final
ripeness.
On
the
contrary,
it
rather
always
takes
a
form
of
corruption
in
the
eyes
of
the
beholders.
Thus
you
see
that
God
bestows
upon
His
creatures
only
goodness,
but
that
goodness
comes
by
way
of
purposeful
care.
The Klipa (shell) that surrounds the fruit, guards it until it is ripe. Like the fruit, a person, is guarded, and this guarding force is called Klipa. The role of the Klipa is to be a “help against him,” because “It is not good that the man should be alone,” without the Creator. The Klipa prompts us to set goals and aspire for things we think will make us happy and bring us joy. But this is only so we will discover that true happiness and that the greatest pleasures stem only from connection with the Creator.
According
to
the
wisdom
of
Kabbalah,
the
New
Year’s
Day
of
the
trees
symbolizes
a
spiritual
change
in
a
person.
The
New
(which
is
in
Hebrew
is
called
Rosh
(head),
stands
for
“beginning,”
and
Year
(Shannah),
in
Hebrew,
stands
for
Shoneh
(change,
difference).
The
process
of
the
growth
of
a
tree
symbolizes
the
spiritual
evolution
of
a
person,
from
a
seed
that
is
planted
in
the
ground
to
a
blooming
fruit-bearing
tree.
The 15th of Shvat signifies a state where one decides to invest all of one’s strength in revealing one’s purpose in life. Such a person discovers that all the necessary forces required for spiritual progress are already within one, and that all one needs to do is choose the right way and employ it. When a person chooses to progress in spirituality, he or she begins to grow like the tree, and finally yields spiritual fruits, receives infinite and unbounded pleasure, and reaches perfection.
The
Tree
of
Knowledge
stands
for
the
spiritual
degree
in
which
a
person
attains
the
“Thought
of
Creation.”
At
this
degree,
a
person
is
as
giving
as
the
Creator,
and
infinite
light
fills
all
one’s
desires
with
wondrous
knowledge
about
the
whole
of
reality.
This,
in
turn,
brings
one
a
sensation
of
eternity
and
perfection.
The
wisdom
of
Kabbalah
is
called
“The
Tree
of
Life”
because
through
the
light
concealed
within
it,
which
shines
during
the
study,
a
person
acquires
the
quality
of
giving
and
becomes
similar
to
the
Creator.
Because
of
this
action,
the
wisdom
of
Kabbalah
is
called
“Torah,”
the
Torah
whose
light
reforms,
and
brings
one
from
love
of
self
to
love
of
others,
like
the
Creator.
A “Garden” stands for the sum of desires in a person. “Eden” stands for the Upper Light that fills a person’s desires. A person who comes to feel The Garden of Eden, senses that the Upper Force that acts on him or her is benevolent and filled with love. The wisdom of Kabbalah stresses that to reach the sensation of the Garden of Eden, one doesn’t have to die and leave one’s body. Instead, one can do it while still living in this world.
The
“root”
is
the
reason
from
which
the
“branch”
stems,
the
result.
The
roots
of
the
tree
are
hidden
in
the
ground,
while
its
branches
are
revealed.
A
similar
connection
exists
between
our
world,
called
“the
world
of
results,”
and
the
spiritual
world,
“the
world
of
reasons.”
Hence,
the
only
way
to
prompt
a
real
change
in
our
lives
is
to
affect
the
reasons,
the
roots
of
all
that
exists
in
this
world,
the
branches.
Why is it customary to eat fruits on Tu BeShvat (15th of Shvat)?
The custom of eating fruits on Tu BeShvat symbolizes one’s recognition of the importance of obtaining spiritual fruits in one’s life, of choosing a path of spiritual growth. Additionally, eating the sweet fruits stands for a person’s reaching the ripening of one’s spiritual fruits. The fruit stands for the height of glory for the tree, and indicates its ripeness, and the fact that it has reached its purpose.
Similarly, the fruits of the spiritual tree symbolize the realization of one’s spiritual goal. At this stage, one enjoys the lush flavor of the fruits, and he or she discovers the Upper Force, the Creator, and is awarded eternal and perfect spiritual existence.
What is “evil eye” according to the wisdom of Kabbalah?
Among the public, the understanding of the term “evil eye” is based on an ancient, yet common belief that ascribes envious people the power to harm others.
However, according to the wisdom of Kabbalah, the term “evil eye” refers to the (essentially egoistic) perspective that exists in a person. Because human nature is to want to enjoy for oneself, the whole of our reality is affected by this inherent trait, and this is what guides our every action. However, we only harm ourselves by following it. The “evil eye” is one’s own malicious eye. By using the wisdom of Kabbalah, we can change our nature from reception for ourselves to giving to others, and thus, from an evil eye to a good eye.