Tree of Souls

by Howard Schwartz

  All of Israel is attached to the Tree of Life. Some are attached to its trunk, some to its branches, some to its leaves, some to its roots, as it is said, The Torah is a Tree of Life to those who cling to it (Prov. 3:18). In the future, all of Israel will taste of the Tree of Life, and because of it they will leave their exile in a compassionate way.

  This myth has several layers of meaning, as it refers to the Tree of Life found in the Garden of Eden as well as to the Torah. The linkage between the two derives from the famous verse in Proverbs 3:18, It is a Tree of Life to those who cling to it. The identification of the “it” with the Torah is so pervasive that this verse is commonly quoted as The Torah is a Tree of Life to those who cling to it. Zohar 3:73a makes this link explicit: “Israel is attached to the Torah, and the Torah to God.” At the same time, the Tree of Life is the symbolic structure that represents the ten sefirot, the ten divine emanations that underlie all existence. So the Tree of Life actually refers to three things simultaneously: to the tree in the Garden of Eden, to the Torah, and to the structure of the ten sefirot. In the present myth, the tasting of the fruit of the Tree of Life symbolizes the end of Israel’s exile and the beginning of the new era that will be initiated with the coming of the Messiah.

  Midrash ha-Ne’elam in Zohar Hadash 18c also identifies the two trees in the Garden of Eden as two paths. The Tree of Life represents the path of the Torah, “which gives life to man, and enables him to know the good and straight path which perfects him.” The Tree of Knowledge represents the path of evil, and “for this reason God commanded him not to eat from it.”

  Sources:

  Seder Gan Eden (version B) in Beit ha-Midrash 3:131-140; Zohar 1:82b, 1:193a-b, 3:124b-125a.

  517. THE TREE OF KNOWLEDGE AND THE TREE OF LIFE

  The Tree of Knowledge was forbidden to Adam, but not the Tree of Life. God did not prevent Adam from eating from the Tree of Life. He was free to do so. But after Adam sinned with the Tree of Knowledge, he was not allowed near the Tree of Life. Why? Because the Tree of Knowledge is the gateway for entering the Tree of Life.

  Here we find a paradox worthy of Kafka: although God had forbidden Adam from eating the fruit of the Tree of Knowledge, he was free to eat from the Tree of Life. And it is true that the Genesis narrative does not forbid Adam from eating from the Tree of Life. But after Adam sinned by eating the forbidden fruit, he was expelled from the Garden of Eden, and cherubim were placed before the gates of Eden to guard the way to the Tree of Life (Gen. 3:24). Thus, after he sinned, the Tree of Life became forbidden to Adam. Yet, paradoxically, Gikatilla comments that the Tree of Knowledge was the gateway to the Tree of Life. This suggests that Adam could not have tasted of the Tree of Life without first tasting of the Tree of Knowledge. See “Paradise” by Kafka, p. 445.

  Gikatilla’s paradox grows out of his kabbalistic interpretation of the Genesis account of the two trees. For him, the fruit of the Tree of Knowledge symbolizes the kelippot, the “shells” or “husks” that represent forces of evil and result in separation and banishment. Thus when Adam ate of the forbidden fruit, he reaped a harvest of banishment. At the same time, the Tree of Knowledge represents Malkhut, one of the ten sefirot, while the Tree of Life symbolizes Tiferet, another of the sefirot. And Malkhut serves as the gateway to Tiferet in the kabbalistic system of emanations.

  Sources:

  Sha’arei Orah 5.

  Studies:

  “The Origin of Death” by Samuel S. Cohon.

  518. THE EVER-TURNING SWORD OF FLAME

  After Adam and Eve were expelled from Eden, God stationed east of the Garden of Eden the cherubim and the fiery ever-turning sword, to guard the way to the Tree of Life (Gen. 3:24). After that, no one had permission to enter there, except for the souls of the righteous who were purified by the cherubim. If they see a soul worthy of entering, they admit it, but if it is not, they drive it away, and it is punished by the flame of the ever-turning sword.

  There are two distinct phases in the role of the Garden of Eden in Jewish lore. The first is the account of Adam and Eve’s life in the garden and their subsequent expulsion. The second concerns the role of the garden after that, in which it becomes the place that the souls of the righteous enter on their journey into Paradise. See “The Path of the Soul in the Garden of Eden,” p. 168.

  The role of the cherubim (a type of angel) is clear in the first case, in that they were stationed at the gates of Eden in order to prevent Adam and Eve from reentering there. For having tasted the fruit of the Tree of Knowledge, they had become mortal, and therefore were no longer permitted access to the Tree of Life. This, at least, is the implication of Genesis 3:24. But what purpose do the cherubim serve after the time of Adam and Eve? They continue to serve as gatekeepers, keeping away anyone who tries to enter the garden, as does Alexander the Great. See “The Gates of Eden,” p. 406. But once the Garden of Eden takes on its new role as the entry point for the souls of the righteous on their way to Paradise, the role of the cherubim also changed. From this point on they not only kept out those who were not permitted to enter, but they also admitted the souls of the righteous who were permitted to enter there. Somehow the cherubim were able to determine at once whether or not a soul was righteous enough to deserve entry. As for those who were not, they were not only chased off, but, as stated in this myth from the Zohar, they were burned by the flame of the revolving sword.

  The cherubim play a similar role in the traditions about the High Priest entering the Holy of Holies of the Temple in Jerusalem on Yom Kippur. Two cherubim were portrayed on the cover of the Ark, and they were said to stand guard just like the cherubim that guard the gates of Eden. When the High Priest entered, he entered in awe and dread, for if he were worthy he would enter in peace and exit in peace. But if he were not worthy, a flame would shoot out from between the cherubim—similar to flame of the ever-turning sword—and he would die.

  Sources:

  Midrash ha-Ne’elam, Zohar Hadash 19a

  519. ABRAHAM’S TREE

  Wherever Abraham made his home, he always planted a tree. By way of the tree he could detect who clung to God and who clung to idol worship. When one who cleaved to God stood under that tree, its branches would spread out over his head, providing shade. But the tree would recoil from any idolaters, lifting its branches, so that there was no shade.

  When Adam ate the fruit of the Tree of Good and Evil, he caused death to enter into the world. But Abraham rectified the world with this tree, which is none other than the Tree of Life.

  This myth picks up on the unfinished account of the Tree of Life in Genesis, and creates an entirely new myth concerning this tree, which is described as belonging to Abraham. The branches of this tree serve to identify the true beliefs of anyone who stands beneath it, and Abraham can plant and replant it wherever he goes. The underlying assertion of the myth is that the appearance of Abraham in the world announced a new era, repairing the damage done by Adam when he ate the fruit of the Tree of the Knowledge of Good and Evil. Other sources, especially in the Zohar, also identify the Tree of Knowledge as the Tree of Death. Pesikta Rabbati 42:1 states that “this particular kind of tree brought death into the world.” See also Zohar 1:35b, 1:37b, and especially 3:119a. Here it is said that as soon as night commences, the Tree of Life departs for the higher regions and the Tree of Death begins to rule the world, and when it does, all of mankind experiences the taste of death. Not until the Tree of Life is aroused at daybreak does the Tree of Death relax its hold.

  In kabbalah, the Tree of Knowledge is often identified as the Tree of Death. Although brief, this myth from the Zohar portrays the polarity of the Tree of Life and the Tree of Death, a polarity that is barely hinted at in the Genesis accounts of the Tree of Knowledge and the Tree of Life. In Folklore in the Old Testament, James Frazer offers an interesting theory about the relationship between the two trees. Frazer suggests it was God’s intention that Adam be immortal. Therefore God warned Adam not to eat the fruit of the Tree of Kno
wledge, for the Tree of Knowledge was originally the Tree of Death. Thus Frazer sees this divine test as one more myth about the origin of death: “We may suppose that in the original story there were two trees, a tree of life and a tree of death; that it was open to man to eat of the one and live forever, or to eat of the other and die; that God, out of good will to his creature, advised man to eat of the tree of life and warned him not to eat of the tree of death; and that man, misled by the serpent, ate of the wrong tree and so forfeited the immortality that his benevolent Creator had designed for him.” (See Theodor H. Gaster’s Myth, Legend, and Custom in the Old Testament, p. 33.)

  Some Christian apocryphal sources also identify the Tree of Knowledge with the Tree of Death. The Gospel of Philip 94b states that the Tree of Knowledge “brought death upon those who ate of it.” Therefore “it became the beginning of death.”

  Since this myth comes from the Zohar, the sefirotic meaning of the Tree of Life cannot be overlooked. In kabbalistic terms, this refers to the interaction of the ten sefirot, the ten emanations that emerge from the unknowable aspect of God, known as Ein Sof, the Endless or Infinite. The myth sets up a dichotomy between the Fall and its consequent damage and the repair represented by the arrival of Abraham and the recognition of the one God, thus the beginnings of Judaism. Note that this same pattern of breaking apart and restoration is the precise pattern of the Ari’s myth of the Shattering of the Vessels and the Gathering of the Sparks. See “The Shattering of the Vessels and the Gathering of the Sparks,” p. 122. In general, however, the two poles of this dichotomy are the Fall and the messianic era, when the world will be restored to its prelapsarian condition.

  Sources:

  Zohar 1:102a.

  Studies:

  Myth, Legend, and Custom in the Old Testament by Theodor H. Gaster, p. 33.

  520. THE CAVE OF THE FOUR WINDS

  The Cave of the Four Winds can be found at the entrance of a small cave in the Garden of Eden, not far from the Tree of Knowledge. That cave is covered by a curtain on which are inscribed many secret symbols. It is said that if a corner of that curtain is lifted, a great blast of wind will escape, enough to toss boulders into the air as if they were apples, and uproot trees planted on the sixth day of creation. If the entire curtain is lifted, the four winds will be set free, and the world will return to chaos and void.

  Rabbinic literature and medieval Jewish folklore greatly elaborate on the details of the earthly and heavenly Paradise. Here is the description of a cave in the Garden of Eden that contains all the winds. All that prevents the world from returning to chaos is this curtain, inscribed with secret symbols, that hangs before it. This myth can be read as a warning against delving into forbidden secrets, such as spells and other kinds of magic. Or, from a modern perspective, it can be seen as a warning against the dangers of nuclear destruction. This myth about the Cave of the Four Winds is found in the story “The Prince of Coucy.” See Miriam’s Tambourine, pp. 173-185.

  Sources:

  Notzer Te’enah; Sefer Ma’asiyot; Sefer Sippurim Nora’im; IFA 5854.

  521. THE GATES OF EDEN

  During his journeys, Alexander the Great once stopped by a stream. He had some salted fish with him, and when he washed it in the waters it gave off a wonderful fragrance. Alexander then drank some of that water and felt remarkably refreshed. He said: “This stream must come from the Garden of Eden. Let us see if we can find its source.” So Alexander followed the stream until he reached the Gates of Eden. The gates were guarded by an angel with a flaming sword. The others in his company hid from the sight of the angel, but Alexander stood before the angel and said: “Open the gates for me!” The angel replied: “This is the gateway of the Lord, the righteous shall enter through it” (Ps. 118:20). When Alexander saw that he would not be admitted, he said: “I am a king who is highly regarded. Give me something!” Then the angel gave him an eye. Alexander went and weighed it against all his gold and silver, but the eye outweighed them all. He asked the angel how this was possible, and the angel said: “The eye of a human being is never satisfied.” And Alexander asked: “How can you prove that this is true?” And the angel answered: “Take some dust and cover the eye and you will see for yourself.” Alexander did this, and all at once the eye was restored to its true weight.

  There are many legends about Alexander the Great in Jewish lore. This one from the Talmud teaches Alexander the lesson that the lust of the human eye is limitless but is easily quenched by dust, that is, by death. Alexander learns this at the gates of the Garden of Eden, which is the one place that Alexander cannot conquer in the world, just as he cannot conquer death. Thus the moral of the tale is that there are built-in limits to the satisfaction of human desire, a moral that is appropriately directed at Alexander, a folk symbol of one who sought to go beyond all human limits. For other Jewish tales about the exploits of Alexander, see “Alexander Descends into the Sea” in Miriam’s Tambourine, pp. 118-121, and “The Waters of Eternal Life,” in the same book, pp. 122-134.

  According to Rabbi Samuel Eliezer Edels, known as the Maharsha, only those who do not amass worldly goods can enter the Garden of Eden.

  Sources:

  B. Tamid 32b; IFA 6966.

  522. THE LAND OF ISRAEL

  The Land of Israel is holier than all other lands, for the Land of Israel is under the direct providence of God, and the eyes of your God are always on it (Deut. 11:12). Before the Land of Israel was chosen, all lands were suitable for divine revelation; after the Land of Israel was chosen, all other lands were eliminated. Just as The Lord your God is the God of gods and the Lord of lords (Deut. 10:17), so the Land of Israel is the center of the inhabited earth and God’s own inheritance. So too is it the central place for the study of the Torah and ascensions of prayer, as it is said, that is the gateway to heaven (Gen. 28:17). Even the air of the Land of Israel makes one wise. That is why it is said that “there is no Torah like the Torah of the Land of Israel.” When Jews dwell in the Land of Israel, they eat from their Father’s table and receive the light of wisdom directly from God. In contrast, all other lands are dark, as it is said, He has made me dwell in dark places (Lam. 3:6). Alas for the children who have been exiled from their Father’s table!

  God considered all the nations and found no people fit to receive the Torah other than the people of Israel. So too did God consider all generations and found no generation fit to receive the Torah other than the generation of the wilderness. He also considered all mountains and found no mountain on which the Torah should be given other than Mount Sinai. And God considered all cities and found none to compare with the city of Jerusalem. So too did He consider all lands and found none suitable to be given to Israel other than the Land of Israel.

  The Land of Israel is not like Egypt, which is irrigated by the Nile like a garden. The Land of Israel is a land of hills and valleys almost exclusively intended to absorb the dew of heaven. For even though the physical Land of Israel exists, its essence is a spiritual matter, the life force coming from God. And all those who walk as little as four cubits in the Land of Israel are assured of a share in the World to Come, while all who are buried in the Land of Israel—it is as if they were buried beneath the altar of the Temple in Jerusalem.

  Monotheism is the central pillar of Judaism, but close in importance is the centrality of the Land of Israel (Eretz Yisrael). Indeed, the covenant between God and the people of Israel is manifest in the Land of Israel. As Rav Kook put it, “Love for our Holy Land is the foundation of the Torah” (“The Land of Israel,” Orot, Jerusalem, 1950, p. 9).

  The midrash from Leviticus Rabbah about God choosing the Holy Land is a commentary on the verse When He stands, He makes the earth shake (Hab. 3:6). According to Maimonides, so essential is the link of Israel to the Jewish people that if no Jews lived there, the Torah would vanish.

  The Land of Israel was believed to have sacred powers and there are a great many myths about the miracles that occurred there. From such a mythic perspect
ive, the land is more than a place, but is also a sacred realm. It is believed that whoever desires to be a true Jew can only achieve this by means of the sanctity of the Holy Land, that by entering the Land of Israel, a person becomes part of its sacred nature. Further, prayers originating in the Land of Israel can bring about miracles and true wonders for the entire world. Any ascent of prayer can only take place in the Land of Israel, for that is where the ascent of prayers occurs. Without the sanctity of the Land of Israel, a descent into exile occurs, and prayer descends into exile, and it is impossible to pray and perform miracles in the world.

  In the Talmud it is said that whoever walks four cubits in the Land of Israel is assured of a place in the World to Come (B. Ketubot 111a). For this reason, many sages sought to make the journey. The Ba’al Shem Tov sought repeatedly to reach the Holy Land, but he never managed to get there. There are numerous folktales about his failed attempts. Rabbi Nachman of Bratslav, great-grandson of the Ba’al Shem Tov, who believed that he bore a spark of the Ba’al Shem Tov’s soul, sought to journey to the Holy Land to complete his great-grandfather’s quest for him. It was truly an epic journey during which Rabbi Nachman felt that he was engaged in a life and death struggle with the forces of evil. After a six month journey, he arrived the day before Rosh ha-Shanah, 1798. He believed that “the moment I walked four steps on the Holy Land, I achieved my goal” (Shivhei ha-Ran 15). And as soon as Rosh Hashanah was over, Rabbi Nachman was ready to return home. He wanted to leave at once. Having taken those four steps on the Holy Land, he felt he had completed his quest. However, his companion, probably his earliest disciple Rabbi Shimon, convinced him to visit some of the holy cities of Israel, and in this way managed to extend Rabbi Nachman’s stay for a few months.