Tag Archives: Four Who Entered Pardes

Journey Through the Heavens

This week we conclude the fourth book of the Torah with a reading of the last two portions. In parashat Masei, “Journeys”, we are given a summary of the Israelites’ travels in the Wilderness. There are a total of forty-two trips and stops along the way. The Baal Shem Tov famously taught that these 42 journeys actually allude to the 42 journeys of every soul. His grandson wrote in Degel Machane Ephraim that “one’s birth and emergence from the mother’s womb is like the Exodus, as is known, and one henceforth goes from journey to journey until arriving at the supernal world…” The journey begins here on Earth with a person emerging from the waters of the womb, much like the Israelites emerged out of the waters of the Red Sea. It continues until the soul returns to its place in the supernal worlds. What do these supernal worlds look like and how long do journeys through those worlds take?

The Talmud outlines the supernal worlds, and states that the distance between each one is a “five hundred-year’s journey” (Chagigah 12b-13a). The first of the “Seven Heavens” is called Vilon, literally a “curtain”. The Talmud describes this simply as the atmosphere above Earth’s surface, and it has no particular spiritual significance. Then comes the Rakia, often poorly translated as “firmament”. The Talmud repeats what the Torah says in the account of Creation that within the Rakia are the sun, moon, stars, and constellations. In other words, Rakia is outer space. When the Sages used the term “fixed” (kevu’in) it does not mean that the stars are “fixed” into a solid firmament, but rather that the stars are all “fixed” in their orbits. (The same word is used when telling us to “fix” specific cyclical times for Torah study.)

AI-generated image of Seven Heavens

The third level is Shechakim, the “millstones” that grind manna. This region can be thought of as the interface between the “physical” world and the “spiritual” world. Indeed, when Rabbi Akiva led three other rabbis into the spiritual worlds of Pardes (recounted in the following pages in the same tractate Chagigah), he tells the others that they will pass by “pure marble stones” along the way. It is appropriate that manna would come from here specifically, as manna was a substance part physical and part spiritual, a blend of both dimensions.

The fourth Heaven is called Zevul, and this is where the “Heavenly Jerusalem” is found. The kohen gadol in its Temple is the angel Michael, who brings offerings upon the Heavenly altar. Most of the other angels dwell above in the fifth Heaven called Ma’on. The next Heaven is called Machon, the realm of the primordial elements. Apparently, here is found snow, hail, dew, rain, and fire, together with storms and whirlwinds. The Talmud then asks what any of us would ask: aren’t these elements here on Earth? The conclusion is that their original (spiritual) source is up in Machon. One might understand this place as God’s own “laboratory”, where He set forth the very foundations of the cosmos. This can be likened to the mystical dimension of Beriah, which serves as the “programming” and “back-end” for the universe. Similarly, the first two lower Heavens of Vilon and Rakia—typically described in very physical and mundane terms—would parallel the lowest realm of Asiyah, while the angelic Ma’on would parallel Yetzirah (perhaps Shechakim is in between, or bridges both).

Finally, the Seventh Heaven is called ‘Aravot. This is the place of souls and spirits, the source of all blessings, as well as the Dew of Resurrection that will revive the dead in the World to Come. Here are the highest classes of angels like Ofanim and Seraphim. And here, too, is the Throne of God. This region parallels the dimension of Atzilut. The Talmud then says there is one more Rakia above, an “eighth” Heaven, but it is so mysterious and sublime it is forbidden to speak of it at all. The source for it is Ezekiel 1:22, which speaks of a Rakia of “terrible ice”. This takes us right back to the beginning of the passage, where there is one opinion stating there are actually two types of Rakia, a lower and higher one (based on Deuteronomy 10:14). This neatly corresponds to the mysterious and highest mystical dimension of Adam Kadmon.

The Deuteronomy verse above mentions both hashamayim and shmei hashamayim, hence the implication of two distinct Rakias. Based on the word hashamayim (השמים), the numerical value of which is 955 (when counting with the mem sofit as 600), it is said that the Heavens are further divided up into 955 levels or compartments. The verse starts with the word hen (הן), “behold”, which has a value of 55, from which is derived that the top 55 levels are reserved for God alone, while the bottom 900 are accessible to souls, spirits, angels, and the like.

How Big is the Cosmos?

The Talmud (Chagigah 13a) states that the distance from Earth to the Rakia is a “five hundred-years’ journey”, that the Rakia itself is five hundred years-long, and that the distance between each level of Heaven thereafter is five hundred years. (The Talmud rightly excludes the atmospheric Vilon, which we know scientifically doesn’t extend so far away from Earth’s surface). So, with seven domains (including the upper eighth Rakia, but excluding the Vilon), each five hundred years large, and six spaces between them of five hundred years, that gives us a total size to the cosmos of about 6500 “years”. These are not light years, of course, so how big is the cosmos according to the Talmud?

In Talmudic parlance, a day’s journey (derekh yom) is equivalent to ten parsa, or parasangs. A parsa is four mil, and a mil is two thousand amot, or cubits. In other words, a parsa is 8000 cubits. There are varying definitions to the length of a cubit, the common answer being two feet. In that case, we are looking at 16,000 feet per parsa, or just about five kilometres. However, the Talmud (Pesachim 94a) states that the circumference of the Earth is 6000 parsas, and we know today that the Earth’s circumference is 40,075 kilometres. That would mean a parsa is about 6.68 kilometres, which actually makes more sense because the Sages define a parsa as the distance a person walks in 72 minutes (typical walking speed is about five to six kilometres an hour.) Putting it all together, a derekh yom would be about 67 kilometres, the maximum distance a person could cover if they walked an entire day at average speed.

We can take that number and convert it to “five hundred years” as follows: 67 kilometres per day x 365 days x 500 years = 12,227,500 kilometres. This would be the size of each Heaven, as well as the distance between each Heaven. At first glance, that works out to a total of about 159 million kilometres for the size of the cosmos around Earth, according to the Talmud. Intriguingly, this is roughly the same as a scientific Astronomical Unit (AU), which is about 150 million kilometres, based on the average distance between the Earth and the Sun.

However, the Talmud then goes on to state that each aspect of the angels and the Throne of God is so vast it is equivalent in distance to all of the Seven Heavens combined! The Talmud lists eleven items, so doing the math (159 million x 11) brings one to a cosmos nearly 1.8 billion kilometres wide. As mind-boggling as that is, it is still significantly less than the scientific estimate for the size of the Solar System at 287 billion kilometres. Meanwhile, the whole universe is estimated to be at least 93 billion light years wide (a light year is about 9.5 trillion kilometres). 

Perhaps the Sages did not mean that the distances are exactly a five hundred-years’ journey (and maybe not a walking journey), but just that the distances are so vast they are impossible for a human to traverse in one lifetime. Indeed, the Talmud here brings up the case of Nimrod, who sought to build the Tower of Babel to ascend to the Heavens. He was told that a human lifespan is only about 70 years, so how could he even think of attempting to travel to the highest Heavens when there are multiple distances of 500 years’ length?

It is interesting to point out that today we know the edge of our Solar System appears to be a “bubble” of ice comets referred to as the Oort Cloud. This region may be related to the “millstones” (or “pure marble stones”) of the third Heaven, Shechakim, or perhaps the “terrible ice” of the mysterious eighth Heaven, the upper Rakia. Whatever the case, both Talmud and science describe vast distances that would be impossible for humans to journey through (at least with current technology). Angels, on the other hand, can traverse such distances. For example, the Talmud recounts Eliyahu once traveling four hundred parsas in one instant to save Rav Kahanah (Kiddushin 40a), while the Zohar (I, 4b-5a) describes Samael as traveling 6000 parsas in one instant. The angelic Merkavah “chariots” are said to regularly journey through 18,000 worlds (Avodah Zarah 3b; Zohar I, 24a; and based on Chagigah 12b, one can understand all of these 18,000 worlds as being within ‘Aravot, the seventh Heaven).

Then there’s Enoch, who went to “walk with God” (Genesis 5:24) and journeyed through the Heavenly worlds, as described in the apocryphal Book of Enoch and referenced many times throughout the Zohar. And we can’t forget the sages led by Rabbi Akiva who went up to Pardes, with Rabbi Akiva reminding them that they will pass through the “pure marble stones” (of the third Heaven), after which they saw various Heavenly beings and angels (most notably Metatron, identified as that selfsame Enoch) in the fourth, fifth, and sixth Heavens. Finally, in the World to Come, each righteous person will be able to traverse the cosmos, with a reward of 310 worlds (Uktzin 3:12) or perhaps even 400 worlds (Zohar I, 127b) to explore and delight in.

May we merit to see that day soon!

Lots More Information:

The Four Who Entered Pardes (Video)
Metatron & the Book of Enoch (Video)
Kefitzat HaDerekh: Wormholes in the Torah

For those who liked the essay on ‘The Strings That Hold the World’ from several weeks ago, there is an updated, revised, and expanded version here.

And since it’s that time of year, please review ‘The Right Way to Observe the Three Weeks’ here.

Can a Virgin Get Pregnant?

Kohanim and Kohen Gadol

At the beginning of this week’s parasha, Emor, we learn of the various requirements and obligations placed upon the priestly class of kohanim. For the high priest in particular, he must marry only a virgin (Leviticus 21:13). The Talmud asks a perplexing question on this law: is a kohen gadol allowed to marry a virgin who is pregnant? (Chagigah 14b-15a) At first glance, the question seems silly and irrelevant, for how could a virgin ever be pregnant? However, when placed in context, the question has major theological significance.

The question of the pregnant virgin appears in the Talmud (Chagigah 14b-15a) immediately after the story of the four Sages who ascended to the Heavenly realms, Pardes. It was posed specifically to Shimon ben Zoma, one of those four mystics, upon his return. To understand it, we must remember that the Pardes event took place some time in the first third of the second century CE. This was an era when Christianity was already spreading rapidly and, as discussed in depth before, one of Ben Zoma’s contemporaries that went to Pardes with him, Elisha ben Avuya, subsequently became a Christian! Of the four that went up, Shimon ben Azzai never came back, Elisha ben Avuya became a Christian, while Rabbi Akiva became fiercely anti-Christian (as explored in the Apocrypha series of classes). So, the question of the pregnant virgin fittingly went to the neutral Ben Zoma—what did he think about the possibility of an “immaculate” conception? Continue reading →

Mysteries of the Haggadah

The Passover Haggadah is one of the most ancient compilations of Jewish text. Its core goes back to the Mishnaic era (1st-2nd Century CE), and it came to its final version, more or less as we know it today, about 1000 years ago. The Sages filled the Haggadah with profound secrets and mysteries, giving people both young and old much to meditate and reflect on. In fact, we read in the Haggadah at the very beginning that although “we are all wise, discerning, sage, and knowledgeable in Torah”, it is still a mitzvah for each person to plunge into the Exodus story and uncover its secrets, and to share one’s thoughts and interpretations with others. Not surprisingly, the Sages embedded many such secrets and mysteries in the Haggadah itself. A small sample of them are presented below.

The Sefirot of Mochin above (in blue) and the Sefirot of the Middot below (in red) on the mystical “Tree of Life”.

The statement that we are all wise [chakhamim], discerning [nevonim], and knowledgeable [yodi’im], is a clear allusion to the upper three Sefirot of Chokhmah, Binah, and Da’at. The same verse also says we are all zkenim, literally “elders”, which is strange because obviously not everyone around the seder table is an elder! What does this really mean? We must remember that Da’at is only the inverse and the application of the highest Sefirah, Keter. There are, in fact, four mental faculties: Keter, Chokhmah, Binah, and Da’at, or willpower, information, understanding, and applied knowledge, respectively. (The Arizal actually teaches that these four are the reason the head tefillin has four compartments!) Now we can understand the purpose of inserting zkenim in the Haggadah: The highest Keter reflects the “face” of God known as Atik Yomin, the “Ancient of Days” (a term that comes from Daniel 7:22). This is the “elder” zaken in the Haggadah’s phrasing. All four mental faculties are stimulated at the seder, just as the tefillin stimulates all four.

The Haggadah continues by saying it is a mitzvah for us to lesaper, speak at length about the Exodus. Speech corresponds to the bottom of the Sefirot, Malkhut. And what of the six Sefirot in the middle? The Haggadah goes on to tell us that Rabbi Eliezer, Rabbi Yehoshua, Rabbi Elazar ben Azariah, Rabbi Akiva and Rabbi Tarfon were all celebrating Pesach together one year. The teachings of these Mishnaic sages formed the core of the Haggadah text itself. They can be said to correspond to the six middle Sefirot (which are collectively called Zeir Anpin, and parallel the realm of Yetzirah, literally “formation”). You might ask: but wait, that’s only five rabbis—where is the sixth? The Haggadah itself answers: “Rabbi Elazar ben Azariah said to them: ‘Behold, I am like a man of seventy years, but I never merited to understand why the story of the Exodus is told at night until Ben Zoma expounded…’” The great Shimon ben Zoma is hiding here, too!

Recall that Ben Zoma is a contemporary and colleague of these wisemen, and even ascended up to the heavenly Pardes alongside Rabbi Akiva (Chagigah 14b). An amazing chiddush (that belongs to my wife) is that we can parallel the “Four Who Entered Pardes” with the Four Sons of the Haggadah: The wise one is undoubtedly Rabbi Akiva—the only one able to enter and exit Pardes in peace. The wicked one is, of course, Elisha ben Avuya who became the apostate Acher and traitorously joined the Romans. He totally separated himself from the Jewish community, so he said: “‘What is this service to you?’ To you and not to him.” The Passover service was no longer relevant to him. Hak’heh et shinav, Acher needed to have his teeth blunted! Then we have “the simple one” or “innocent” one, Ben Azzai, the bachelor who never married, and simply “gazed” at the Divine Presence only to immediately perish, his soul never returning back to Earth. Finally, the one who doesn’t know how to ask is Ben Zoma. Recall that upon his return from Pardes, Ben Zoma was thought to have gone “mad”, unable to converse with regular human beings or keep up a discussion with the Sages. Ben Zoma, quite literally, could no longer “ask”!

The Sages of the Haggadah were deeply contemplating the past redemption of Pesach, but also the future redemption of Mashiach. We find that much of the seder is centered around not ancient events, but forthcoming ones. This is, of course, evident from the concluding part of the seder with a wish for next year’s Pesach to be in a rebuilt Jerusalem, with a rebuilt Holy Temple, where we can properly bring a korban pesach. It is the deeper meaning behind reciting dam esh v’timrot ‘ashan, “blood, fire, and columns of smoke”—spilling a drop of wine for each—which actually comes from the prophet Joel’s vision of the End of Days (Joel 3:3). We are not talking here about the past miracles and plagues in Egypt, but the future signs and miracles that we await! The same goes for pouring a fifth cup for Eliyahu, with a prayer that Eliyahu returns speedily to usher in the Messianic Age. And this is the secret meaning behind those cryptic words we recite: sh’fokh hamatcha el hagoyim asher lo yeda’ukha! “Spill Your wrath upon the nations that don’t know you!” (Psalms 79:6)

Redemption & the War Against Rome

To fully understand the Haggadah, we have to keep in mind that its core was composed in the Mishnaic era, and the undisputed adversary and oppressor of the Jewish people at the time was the Roman Empire. In fact, Rabbi Akiva would end up being martyred at the hands of the Romans. And this connects to an incredible idea that has been proposed to explain that strange episode in the Haggadah where the five chief rabbis are getting together on Pesach. We must ask: why are the rabbis sitting together all night? Where are their families? The Torah commands that one must celebrate Pesach with family, and make sure to instruct one’s children and grandchildren. It seems here in the Haggadah that the five rabbis are alone, confined to a room until the morning when “their students came and said: the time for the morning Shema has arrived!” Even their own disciples were not with them at the seder. What’s going on?

We must remember that Rabbi Akiva’s generation lived at the time of the Bar Kochva Revolt. Rabbi Akiva himself supported Bar Kochva, and believed the latter to be the potential messiah of the generation:

Rabbi Shimon bar Yochai taught: “My rabbi, Akiva, used to expound that ‘A star shall emerge out of Jacob…’ [Numbers 24] is Bar Koziva… when Rabbi Akiva would see Bar Koziva, he would say: ‘He is the King Messiah!’ Rabbi Yochanan ben Torta would say to him: ‘Akiva, grasses will grow out of your cheeks and still the Son of David will not come!’” (Yerushalmi Ta’anit 24a)

Bar Kochva did indeed get very far in the war, managing to expel the Romans (albeit temporarily), re-establishing a sovereign Jewish state (and minting his own coins), even clearing the Temple Mount and starting to rebuild the Beit haMikdash. This would not have been possible without Rabbi Akiva’s support. Unfortunately, the war ended in disaster, with 24,000 of Rabbi Akiva’s students killed, along with Rabbi Akiva himself.

Coins minted by Bar Kochva

When exactly did Rabbi Akiva and his colleagues make the decision to support the revolt against Rome? This certainly would not have been an easy call to make. It would require all the chief rabbis of the time to get together and deliberate carefully. And, according to Rabbi Dr. Ronald Eisenberg (Essential Figures in the Talmud, pg. 16) this is precisely what they did on that Pesach night where they were all together. Confined in a room with no one else around, they stayed up all night to come to a verdict. The students arrived in the morning and said: Time’s up! Do we revolt or not? And what did the rabbis answer? They quoted that last part of the Haggadah: sh’fokh hamatcha el hagoyim asher lo yeda’ukha! “Spill Your wrath upon the nations that don’t know you!” This was the signal to go to war against Rome. And we do know that the main part of the war subsequently took place between Pesach and Shavuot (Yevamot 62b), which is why we still observe a mourning period during this time today. All the puzzle pieces add up neatly to explain this Haggadic mystery.

The Sh’fokh verse in the Darmstädter Haggadah (c 1430)

Bar Kochva wished to throw off the oppressive and idolatrous Roman yoke. In supporting him, the rabbis were hoping to usher in the Messianic Age. It was Nisan, the month of Redemption; and Pesach, the holiday of geulah. And those same Sages taught: b’nisan nigalu, u’b’nisan atidin liga’el, “In Nisan we were redeemed, and in Nisan we are destined to be redeemed again.” (Rosh Hashanah 11a) This was the maxim of Rabbi Yehoshua—the very same Rabbi Yehoshua of the Haggadah, sitting and deliberating with his colleagues all night on that fateful Pesach. It seemed the time was ripe for redemption. The Vilna Gaon taught (as relayed in Kol haTor) that Bar Kochva really was the potential messiah of the generation (otherwise, Rabbi Akiva surely would never have supported him!) Unfortunately, the potential wasn’t realized.

Nonetheless, that same potential exists in every generation, just as there is a potential messiah in every generation. The power to bring the Redemption is in our hands. It takes two things: proper Torah observance and true repentance on the one hand, as well as a collective “Mashiach mass-consciousness” on the other. Rabbi Akiva’s generation had the former, but not the latter. This is evident from the Yerushalmi passage above, where Rabbi Akiva was constantly declaring publicly that Bar Kochva was the messiah—to spread that “Mashiach mass-consciousness”—yet other rabbis were quashing people’s hopes and telling them to stop dreaming, as Rabbi Yochanan ben Torta did.

In this difficult time that we are currently in—where all of the prophecies have already been fulfilled and there are none left to await—let’s make sure we do both, and finally bring about the Geulah.

Wishing everyone a chag Pesach kasher v’sameach!