Tag Archives: Anatomy of the Soul

Understanding the 5 Afflictions of Yom Kippur

Tonight we begin to observe Yom Kippur and take upon ourselves five afflictions, as taught in the Mishnah: abstaining from eating and drinking, bathing, anointing with oils, wearing shoes, and sexual intimacy (Yoma 8:1). Rabbi Ovadiah of Bartenura (c. 1445-1515) comments, as the Sages explain, that these prohibitions are derived from the five times that the Torah speaks of afflicting one’s soul on Yom Kippur. The number five is most significant when it comes to Yom Kippur. The Ba’al HaTurim (Rabbi Yakov ben Asher, c. 1269-1343) comments on Leviticus 16:14 that the five services performed in the Temple on Yom Kippur parallel the five prayer services that we recite on Yom Kippur (Arvit, Shacharit, Mussaf, Minchah, Neilah), as well as the five times that the Kohen Gadol would immerse in the mikveh, and the five souls of a person which are purified on this day. (For an explanation of these five souls, see A Mystical Map of Your Soul.)

Another important set of five refers to the levels of sin. Jewish texts describe transgressions in five levels of severity. The lowest are those of a tinok sh’nishnah, literally a “captured baby”, meaning a person who was raised completely secular and is unaware of what is sinful. Though such a person’s sins still affect their soul, they are not held liable since they are ignorant and don’t know any better. It is a question whether anyone is still a genuine tinok sh’nishbah in our day and age, when a person is only a click away from so much Torah and learning, and can instantaneously answer just about any question whenever they so wish. Today, being ignorant is a choice.

Above that, the lowest level of true sin is called chet (חטא), which is defined as an unintentional sin. It is a total accident that a person had no desire to commit. Above that are two related terms ‘avon (עון) and ‘averah (עברה), which are often used interchangeably, but are indeed different. ‘Averah literally means “pass by”, and refers to a passing urge of sinfulness, as the Talmud states that a person doesn’t sin unless a spirit of foolishness overcomes him (Sotah 3a). These are sins that are usually done behind closed doors, those that a person commits out of an emotional weakness or lust. Meanwhile, ‘avon is a more general term, not necessarily for an emotional reason, and could be a very calculated sin, bringing a person some kind of personal benefit. (An example might be a carefully-planned theft.) Finally, the highest and most damaging sin is pesha (פשע), also referred to as mardut, “rebellion”, an intentional sin that brings the person no real benefit whatsoever, and is done only out of spite or rebelliousness.

The five afflictions and the five prayers of Yom Kippur serve to purify our souls from these five levels of sin, which we are all guilty of. In some cases, we are like a tinok sh’nishbah, as we were completely unaware that what we did was a sin. In other cases, we sin by accident, while elsewhere we are unable to keep our lusts in check. Occasionally, we might even act spitefully. And even if on an individual level we are not guilty, one of our fellows might be, and on Yom Kippur we atone collectively, for “all of Israel are guarantors for each other” (Shevuot 39a).

Why are those the five afflictions in particular, and how do they bring about our atonement?

Separation & Self-Sacrifice

The first question to ask is why are the afflictions of Yom Kippur passive and not active; in other words, why do we simply abstain from things instead of punishing ourselves? For example, in Christianity and Islam there is (or used to be) an established practice of painful self-flagellation and other “mortifications of the flesh”. This is most horribly visible in the Ashura procession, where some Shiite Muslims smash their backs and bodies with swords or sharp chains and bleed profusely. How do we know (other than our basic human consciousness) that God does not want us to do this?

The Talmud (Yoma 74b) brings proof from the Torah itself. Leviticus 16:29 says: “…in the seventh month, on the tenth day of the month, you shall afflict your souls, and shall do no manner of work…” The Sages point out that while God commanded us to afflict our souls, He also said right after not to actively do anything (וכל מלאכה לא תעשו), meaning that we shouldn’t afflict ourselves by physical harmful actions. We only need to abstain from certain pleasures and comforts.

The first and simplest to understand is fasting. As we say in our prayers, by fasting we are “thinning” our blood and “burning” our fat, which is symbolic of the blood and fat offered up with the sacrifices in the Temple. Therefore, we should envision ourselves as the sacrifices on the altar, brought about to bring atonement. This affliction corresponds to the lowest level of soul, nefesh, as stated explicitly by the Rambam (Rabbi Moshe ben Maimon, 1135-1204) in his comments on Yoma 8:1. The nefesh is the most animalistic soul (and animals have nefesh, too), and is dependant upon eating and drinking. Abstaining from food and drink thus afflicts the nefesh, and serves to purify it.

Next is abstaining from washing or bathing, which corresponds to ruach, one’s animating spirit, and the home of their inner drives and inclinations. The reason for this is deeply mystical. Sefer Yetzirah, one of the most ancient Kabbalistic texts, explains that God formed water out of ruach, which literally means “wind” or “air”. (Perhaps we see an allusion to this in the chemical structure of water, H2O, made up of two gasses, one of which is the vital component in air and essential for our breath.) To purify our ruach, therefore, we stay away from immersing it in water. In the same way that we “disconnect” the nefesh by starving it of its fuel, we “disconnect” ruach from its own source. The same reasoning applies to the next level of soul:

The neshamah is, in many ways, the most important of the five levels of soul. Certainly for the average person, the neshamah plays the biggest role, as we’ve explained in the past. When God creates Adam, the Torah specifically states that it was a neshamah, “nishmat chayim”, that God infused into the first man. And this man, as our Sages teach, was originally both male and female, before God split him into two halves, and commanded the halves to reunite. The Zohar (I, 85b) similarly says that before each soul enters this world, God splits it in half and puts one in a male body and one in a female body. These soulmates must reunite as one. The primary mechanism for this reconnection is sexual intimacy, which quite literally binds the two halves into “one flesh” (Genesis 2:24). And so, as with the nefesh and ruach, we isolate and purify the neshamah on Yom Kippur by abstaining from sexual intimacy.

The chaya is the fourth level of soul and is associated with one’s aura, or outer glow. The chaya plays an important role in the subtle interaction of different souls. The vast majority of people are completely unaware of it. Fittingly, it corresponds to the prohibition of anointing with various oils, creams, and perfumes. Such cosmetic items are meant to enhance our outer appearance and make our interactions with others more pleasant. Like with all previous souls, we “separate” chaya by abstaining from anointing ourselves in this manner.

It might be surprising that the last and most significant of the afflictions of Yom Kippur is neilat hasandal, wearing leather shoes. This corresponds to the highest level of soul, the yechidah. What exactly is so important about this seemingly simple, and probably easiest, affliction?

Ascending to Higher Worlds

The prohibition of wearing shoes originally meant not wearing shoes at all. One was meant to go entirely barefoot, as the Sages derive from II Samuel 15:30, where we read:

David went up by the ascent of the mount of Olives, and wept as he went up; and he had his head covered, and went barefoot; and all the people that were with him covered every man his head, and they went up, weeping as they went up.

The Talmud (Yoma 77a-78b) goes on to discuss if wearing shabby or torn shoes is permitted. Some of the Sages hold that uncomfortable shoes are permitted. Other discussions relate around the type of shoe, and whether it “locks” around the foot or not (since neilah in “neilat hasandal” literally means “to lock”). We want to avoid “locking” our shoes, in the same way that we do not want God to “lock” the Gates of Heaven to our prayers. Indeed, the final prayer of Yom Kippur is called Neilah (and corresponds to the prohibition of neilat hasandal), at the end of which the Heavenly Gates are sealed.

Ultimately, Jewish tradition settled on avoiding wearing leather shoes specifically, since leather in those days offered the most comfort and protection to the foot, while being the most expensive and luxurious material. There are also mystical reasons for avoiding leather, one of these being that leather comes from animals, and we do not want to be walking on slaughtered animals when we, ourselves, are requesting mercy and forgiveness.

The Arizal (Rabbi Isaac Luria, 1534-1572) went into great length about the mystery of feet and shoes (see, for example, Sha’ar HaPesukim on Ki Tetze). He explained that in the same way shoes facilitate our movement in this world, they mystically symbolize our movement through the spiritual worlds. It is the right “shoe” that can allow us to ascend to the upper realms of Creation, through the worlds of Asiyah, Yetzirah, Beriah, and Atzilut, which we’ve discussed in the past. This therefore relates to the highest level of our soul, the yechidah, able to penetrate the highest Heavens. It is quite ironic that we learn about the “highest” soul in the “lowest” part of the body! This is mirrored within the Sefirot, where the lowest Malkhut, “Kingdom” (corresponding to the feet, which fittingly have 26 bones) mirrors the highest Keter, “Crown”. In short—and without getting too mystical—abstaining from leather footwear is once again meant to “separate” the yechidah and allow for its purification.

It is worth mentioning that when we speak of these parts of the soul as being “isolated” or “separated” or “disconnected” what we mean is that they have to be set apart for their purification to be complete. It is like washing one’s garments: one cannot wash them while they remain attached to the body! And if a garment is especially soiled, one cannot throw it in the machine with all the others; it must be set aside and hand-washed on its own. In the same way, each soul must first be “isolated” before it can be properly and thoroughly “washed”.

A final thought: the Arizal explained that the five afflictions of Yom Kippur correspond to a mystical concept known as the five Gevurot, “strengths” or “stringencies”. Without going into what these five actually are, they are derived from the five special letters of the Hebrew alphabet which have a different form if appearing at the end of the word: מנצפ״ך. The Arizal showed how the gematria of these five letters is 280, which is equal to the angel Sandalfon (סנדלפון). Our Sages stated that Sandalfon is the angel responsible for bringing our prayers up to Heaven (see, for example, Chagigah 13b). It is he who “weaves” our prayers together and (metaphorically, of course) lays these “wreaths” upon God. If we want our Yom Kippur prayers to be successful, we have to look at the meaning of Sandalfon’s name:

First, we must keep in mind that Sandalfon is not the real name of the angel. Our Sages hid the real names of angels behind various Aramaic and Greek words. Besides for the obvious connection between Sandalfon and “sandal”, Sandalfon actually comes from the Greek syn-delphi, literally “brothers coming together”. (In modern Greek, the word for a colleague or co-worker is essentially the same.) What our Sages meant to teach us is that if we want our prayers to be heard in Heaven, we must all unite as the singular family that we are, rectify our relationships, forgive each other, love one another freely, and sing to Hashem together in unison.

Gmar chatima tova!

The Kabbalah of Kippah

‘Balaam and the Angel’ by John Linnell

This week’s parasha, Balak, recounts the attempt of two great sorcerers, Balak and Bilaam, to curse the people of Israel. Balak was a Moabite king who worried that Israel would conquer his land. He hired the famous gentile prophet and wizard Bilaam to curse the nation. Bilaam knew he would be unable to do this, for he can only pronounce what God desires. And so, each time Bilaam sought to pronounce a curse, a blessing emerged from his mouth instead. Balak tried several magical tricks and sacrificial rituals to change that, to no avail. Israel remained blessed.

The persistent motif in this parasha is the eye, or vision more broadly. Right from the beginning, we read:

Balak the son of Tzippor saw all that Israel had done to the Amorites… He sent messengers to Bilaam the son of Beor, to Pethor, which is by the river of the land of his people, to call for him, saying, “A people has come out of Egypt, and behold, they have covered the eye of the land, and they are stationed opposite me.” (Numbers 22:2-5)

This kind of language permeates the entire parasha, and is perhaps most concentrated in the following passage:

Bilaam raised his eyes and saw Israel dwelling according to its tribes, and the spirit of God rested upon him. He took up his parable and said, “The word of Bilaam the son of Beor and the word of the man with an open eye. The word of the one who hears God’s sayings, who sees the vision of the Almighty, fallen yet with open eyes. (Numbers 24:1-4)

Bilaam had a special “open eye” for seeing divine visions. Interestingly, although translated as “open eye”, the Hebrew is actually shtum or stum ‘ayin, which can be read as “closed eye”. Rashi comments on this dichotomy, bringing sources that favour both translations, with the possibility that Bilaam was blind in one eye or was missing an eye. The deeper mystical meaning is referring to an inner, spiritual eye. Aderet Eliyahu (the commentary of the Vilna Gaon, Rabbi Eliyahu Kramer, 1720-1797) states that this refers to seeing with divine inspiration. The Torah is alluding to an eye that is covered up, not visible on the face of a person. This eye is often referred to as the “third eye”.

When worn properly, the head tefillin points directly to the pineal gland inside the brain.

In Kabbalah, the third eye is associated with the head tefillin, which the Torah commands be placed “between your eyes”. Despite this, we do not put the tefillin between our eyes, but atop the head, above the hairline. This alludes to the fact that the head tefillin is about opening up our third eye, buried deeper in our brains. Science has shed some incredible light on this subject.

Deep in our brains is a small organ called the pineal gland. It releases the sleep hormone melatonin, and has also been found to contain DMT (dimethyltryptamine), a chemical that causes hallucinations and visions. Some say this chemical generates our dreams, or at least plays some role in dreaming. In South American shamanic rituals, a special tea (called Ayahuasca) with a high concentration of DMT is brewed and drunk in a religious ceremony to open one’s eyes to spiritual visions (and apparently works extremely well).

Pineal gland atop a bird’s brain.

If we can point to any part of the brain as being a “receiver” for prophecy, it would certainly be the mysterious pineal gland. Most intriguingly, scientists have found that the pineal gland contains photoreceptor cells similar to those in our eyes! (In animals, it rests higher in the brain and appears to respond to light, and may even be involved in processes like bird migration.) For these reasons, many have identified the pineal gland with the mystical third eye described in ancient mystical texts.

One of these ancient texts is the Zohar, on this week’s parasha. The section on Balak is possibly the longest in the entire Zohar. It includes what some identify as a separate mystical text that was only later incorporated into the Zohar, called the Yenuka, or “Child”. It describes a dialogue that Rabbi Yitzchak and Rabbi Yehuda had with a particularly precocious child. The child reveals some incredible mystical secrets, and one of these is regarding the inner eye. (For more on these secrets, and to the identity of this mysterious child, see the second edition of Mayim Achronim Chova – Secrets of the Last Waters.) The Zohar (III, 187a) reads:

[The Child] opened the discussion with the verse: “The wise man, his eyes are in his head, while the fool walks in darkness…” [Ecclesiastes 2:14] Why does it say the eyes are in his head? Are the eyes of a man in any other place? …Rather, the meaning of the verse is this: it has been taught that a man should not walk four cubits with an uncovered head. What is the reason? Since the Shekhinah rests upon the head, and a wise man’s thoughts and visions are in his head…

King Solomon alluded to the third eye when he said a wise man’s eyes are in his head and show him the light. The meaning of his words are quite clear, for he didn’t mean that a fool is literally blind, rather that he is lacking spiritual vision, which a wise man has. The Zohar comments by first stating that it is obvious the eyes are in (or on) the head. What one should understand is that contained within our heads are all of our holy thoughts and spiritual visions, imbued by God, and thus God’s divine presence, the Shekhinah, hovers over the head.

The Child goes on to state that a spiritual light emanates from the head of a righteous person, and he sees that light glowing upon the heads of Rabbi Yitzchak and Rabbi Yehuda. The Kabbalists associate that light with the two highest souls of a person, the Chayah and Yechidah. While the three lower souls (Nefesh, Ruach, Neshamah) reside in the body, the higher souls exude outwards and hover over the body. (For more on this, see A Mystical Map of Your Soul.) This is why it is common to wear two head-coverings, for example a kippah and a hat, which is meant to “cover” the two higher souls. These souls are particularly roused during prayer, which is the deeper reason for having a kippah and a tallit over one’s head.

The Child alludes to a Talmudic teaching of Rav Huna, who said he never walked four cubits with an uncovered head because the Shekhinah hovered over it (Kiddushin 31a). Elsewhere in the Talmud, we learn that an astrologer told the mother of Rav Nahman bar Yitzchak that he would become a thief, so his mother made him wear a head-covering his whole life to ensure “the fear of Heaven should always be upon him” (Shabbat 156b). It worked, and Rav Nahman became a great rabbi instead. Some cite this as the source for calling a kippah a yarmulke, meaning “fear of the King”. A kippah should remind a person at all times Who is above them.

Despite such teachings, wearing a kippah at all times was not a halachic requirement in those days. This was especially the case for an unmarried man, as we learn from another passage in the Talmud (Kiddushin 29b):

Rav Ḥisda would praise Rav Hamnuna to Rav Huna by saying that he is a great man. Rav Huna said to him: “When he comes to you, send him to me.” When Rav Hamnuna came before him, Rav Huna saw that he did not wear a head-covering. Rav Huna said to him: “What is the reason that you do not wear a head-covering?” Rav Hamnuna said to him: “The reason is that I am not married.” Rav Huna turned his face away from him, and he said to him: “See to it that you do not see my face until you marry.”

The story comes full circle with Rav Hamnuna. The Zohar states that the mysterious Child—who taught the secret of the inner eye and the kippah—is none other than the son of Rav Hamnuna Saba (“the Elder”). Although it isn’t entirely certain if these are the same Rav Hamnunas, it appears that this is indeed the case. Rav Huna (who was so careful with a head-covering) was the one who taught and made sure that Rav Hamnuna would get married and cover his head. The child that resulted from that marriage was the angelic child, who went on to reveal the secret of the head-covering.

It was Rabbi Yosef Karo (1488-1575), a great mystic in his own right, who incorporated this practice as law in the Shulkhan Aruch, stating that one should not walk four cubits with his head uncovered (Orach Chaim 2:6). In previous centuries, wearing a kippah or head-covering was only mandatory during prayer (Mishneh Torah, Sefer Ahava, Hilkhot Tefilah 5:5). Even in the centuries following Rabbi Karo, there were those that maintained wearing a kippah all the times was not a strict requirement but a middat hassidut, an extra measure of piety. (Such was the view of the Chida, Rabbi Chaim Yosef David Azzulai, 1724-1806; as well as the Vilna Gaon, and Rabbi Samson Raphael Hirsch, 1808-1888).

Today, it has become accepted for a Jewish man to wear a kippah all the time, and for good reason. It is a mark of modesty, and a symbol of one’s Jewishness. It reminds a person of the Heavens above, and saves them from sin. It (hopefully) motivates a person to do Kiddush Hashem. It reminds a person of their higher souls, and the holy Shekhinah resting upon them. And it serves to stimulate and guard one’s “third eye”, one’s inner vision, and those holy Torah thoughts residing in the mind.

How Korach Was Rectified in Samuel

“Death of Korah, Dathan, and Abiram” by Gustave Doré

This week’s parasha, Korach, describes the rebellion instigated by Moses’ Levite cousin Korach. Korach’s main accusation was against Aaron and the Kohanim: why did they tale all the priestly services for themselves and left nothing for the lay Israelite? Had not God stated that all of Israel will be a holy nation of kohanim? (Exodus 19:6) Why did only a small group of people (Aaron and his descendants) suddenly become kohanim? His argument was actually a valid one, and Rashi (on Numbers 16:6) records that Moses even agreed with Korach to some extent, and said that he too wishes that all of Israel could be priests! Why weren’t they?

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