Daf Ditty Chagigah 14: παράδεισος,

Mystical journeys

“Empyrean” by Gustave Doré

Yehuda Amichai Translated by Rabbi Steven Sager
§ The Sages taught: Four entered the orchard [pardes], i.e., dealt with the loftiest secrets of Torah,
and they are as follows: Ben Azzai; and ben Zoma; Aḥer, the other, a name for Elisha ben Avuya;
and Rabbi Akiva. Rabbi Akiva, the senior among them, said to them: When, upon your arrival in
the upper worlds, you reach pure marble stones, do not say: Water, water, although they appear
to be water, because it is stated:

‫ֹעֵשׂה‬ --‫ ְבֶּק ֶרב ֵבּיִתי‬,‫שׁב‬

ֵ ‫ֵי‬-‫ ז ל ֹא‬7 He that worketh deceit shall not dwell within my
:‫ְרִמָיּה‬ house; {N}
.‫ ְלֶנֶגד ֵﬠיָני‬,‫ ִיכּוֹן‬-‫ ל ֹא‬--‫ ֹדֵּבר ְשָׁק ִרים‬he that speaketh falsehood shall not be established before
my eyes.
Ps 101:7

“He who speaks falsehood shall not be established before My eyes”

‫ת וס פ ות ד " ה נ כנס ו ל פר ד ס‬
Tosfos explains that they did not really go above.

.‫כגון על ידי שם ולא עלו למעלה ממש אלא היה נראה להם כמו שעלו וכן פי' בערוך‬
This was through a name [of Hash-m]. They did not really ascend, just it seemed to them that
they ascended. The Aruch explained like this.
The Gemara proceeds to relate what happened to each of them: Ben Azzai glimpsed at the Divine
Presence and died. And with regard to him the verse states:

,‫ַהָמּ ְוָתה‬ --‫ ְבֵּﬠיֵני ְיהָוה‬,‫ טו ָיָקר‬15 Precious in the sight of the LORD is the death of His
.‫ַלֲחִסיָדיו‬ saints.
Ps 116:15

“Precious in the eyes of the Lord is the death of His pious ones”

RASHI

Ben Zoma glimpsed at the Divine Presence and was harmed, i.e., he lost his mind. And with
regard to him the verse states:

-‫ ֶפּן‬:‫ ֱאֹכל ַדֶּיָּךּ‬,‫ טז ְדַּבשׁ ָמָצאָת‬16 Hast thou found honey? eat so much as is sufficient for thee,
.‫ ַוֲהֵקאתוֹ‬,‫ִתְּשָׂבֶּﬠנּוּ‬ lest thou be filled therewith, and vomit it.
Prov 25:16

“Have you found honey? Eat as much as is sufficient for you, lest you become full from it and
vomit it”

Aḥer chopped down the shoots of saplings. In other words, he became a heretic. Rabbi Akiva
came out safely.

Steinzaltz
Summary

Sod; Four Went to the Orchard1

We are deep into aggada, the stories that our rabbis use to explain concepts that might be more
difficult to grasp than simple, logical halachot. These include the Creation of the universe, the
Divine Chariot, the nature of good and evil; G-d's will and human will, and the discussion of these
topics.

There is too much written today to summarize in the time that I have given myself. A broad-stroke
outline would include:

• good and bad people distributed throughout the generations

• the reward for keeping our mitzvot is that G-d will share the secrets that we cannot
fathom, sod, with us when we enter the World-to-Come
• conflicting verses regarding the image of G-d as both old and youthful; the two
thrones in heaven
• the eighteen curses: those things listed today that will be taken away from Jerusalem
• dealing with a reversal of power
• Rabbi Yochanan ben Zakkai kissing Rabbi Elazar ben Arach: the latter found a way
to express his thoughts about the Design of the Divine Chariot which caused the sky to open
with fire and the trees to speak poetry
• Rabbi Elazar and Rabbi Yehoshua speaking of the Design of the Divine Chariot
followed by rainbows and other beauty in the sky
• Those Sages who expounded to each other about the Divine Chariot
• Four who entered the 'orchard', pardes; three of whom were changed by what they
saw while Akiva survived due to his deep knowledge of Torah.
• Elisha Acher who ate too much of his desired knowledge, or honey, and became sick
- a heretic
The daf ends with a discussion of the status of a pregnant woman who is a virgin - is she allowed to
the High Priest? And whether or not a dog, a non-kosher animal, can be castrated. We learn about
the dog in today's daf: animals are G-d's creatures, and they should be allowed to procreate. I wonder
if this was written in times like these, where we attempt to protect animal rights by doing the exact
opposite?

Today's daf has probably been the inspiration for the continued practice of Jewish ritual over
millenia. We are told about the rewards of living with the unknown. We are given supernatural
stories that promise us wonders beyond our dreams - all we have to do is observe the mitzvot. How
desperate we are, all of us, to understand the deeper, unanswerable questions. How eager we are to
accept simple explanations.

1
http://dafyomibeginner.blogspot.com/2014/09/
Rav Avrohom Adler writes:2

The Gemora cites a braisa: Rabbi Shimon the pious said: These (those who were ordained) are the
nine hundred and seventy-four generations that were ordained originally to be created, before the
world was created, but ultimately, they were not created. The Holy One, Blessed be He, went and
planted them in each and every generation, and these are the bold-faced people in the generation.
And Rav Nachman bar Yitzchak said: the verse, “those who were cut down” is actually written as a
blessing: These are Torah scholars who cut down on their sleep (in order) to study the words of
Torah in this world. The Holy One, Blessed be He, will reveal secrets to them in the World to Come,
as it is written: Their secrets will be like a pouring river.

Shmuel told Chiya bar Rav, “Son of the lion! Let me relate to you a good matter that your father
said. Every day angles are created from the River of Dinor, and they sing HaShem’s praises, and
they disappear. This is based on a verse that states, they are new every morning, great is Your
faithfulness.” The Gemora notes: This statement is not in accordance with the opinion of Rabbi
Shmuel bar Nachmeini who said in the name of Rabbi Yonasan that every utterance of HaShem
creates a new angel, as it is said, by the word of HaShem the heavens were made, and by the breath
of His mouth all their host.

The Gemora notes a contradiction: One verse states: His garment was white as snow, and the hair of
His head like clean wool. Yet, another verse states: His crowns hold mounds of statutes written in
raven-black flame. The Gemora answers that this is not difficult: The first verse refers to HaShem
as old in the context of a Rabbinical academy, because an old man epitomizes a Torah sage, whereas
the second verse refers to HaShem in battle, because a young man epitomizes battle; for the master
stated: there is nothing better in a Rabbinical academy than an elder, and there is nothing better in a
battle than a youth.

The Gemora notes another contradiction: One verse states: His throne was of fiery flames, which
implies that HaShem has one throne, whereas a second verse states: as thrones were set up, and the
One of Ancient Days sat, which implies that HaShem has two thrones. The Gemora answers: The
resolution to this discrepancy is that the second verse that was quoted refers to the throne of HaShem
and the throne of Dovid HaMelech, as it has been taught in a braisa: One throne is for HaShem and
the other throne for Dovid HaMelech; these are the words of Rabbi Akiva, whereas Rabbi Yose
HaGelili maintains that to suggest that HaShem has a human sitting next to Him on a throne would
render the Divine Presence profane. Rather, Rabbi Yose HaGelili maintains that one throne is for
justice and one throne is for charity.

The Gemora inquires: did Rabbi Akiva accept this interpretation, or not? The Gemora resolves this
from a braisa: One throne is for justice and one throne is for charity; these are the words of Rabbi
Akiva. The braisa continued: Rabbi Eliezer Ben Azaryah rebuked Rabbi Akiva for expounding on
Agaddic matters. He said to him: Akiva, what is your connection with Aggadah? Cease your talk
until you reach the topics of Negaim and Oholos (laws of tumah and taharah, which are complex and
more fitting for Rabbi Akiva); rather, one throne is for His chair and one throne is for His footstool.
The chair is for Him to sit upon, and the stool is for Him to use as a footrest, for it is said: The heaven
is My throne, and the earth is My footstool.

When Rav Dimi came (to Bavel from Eretz Yisroel), he said: Eighteen curses did Yeshaya pronounce
upon the Jewish people (tribulations that would happen to them), yet he was not pacified until he
2
http://dafnotes.com/wp-content/uploads/2015/10/Chagigah_14.pdf
pronounced upon them this verse: The child shall behave insolently against the elderly, and the base
against the respectable. The Gemora asks: What are the eighteen curses? The Gemora answers: It is
written: For, behold, the Lord, Hashem, Master of Legions, does take away from Jerusalem and from
Judah support and mainstay; every support of bread, and every support of water; the mighty man,
and the man of war; the judge and the prophet, and the diviner, and the elder; the captain of fifty;
and the respected man, and the counsellor, and the scholar of scholars, and the comprehender of
whispers. And I will give children to be their leaders, and mockers shall rule over them, etc.

1] ‘Support’ — this means the masters of the Scriptures.

2] ‘Mainstay’ — this means the masters of the Mishnah, like Rabbi Yehudah ben Teima and his
colleagues. Rav Pappa and the Rabbis dispute the extent of their mastery of the Mishnah: One says
that there were six hundred orders of the Mishnah (while currently there are only six), and the other
said that there were seven hundred orders of the Mishnah.
3] ‘Every support of bread’ — this means the masters of Talmud, for it is said: Come, eat of my
bread, and drink of the wine which I have mixed.
4] ‘And every support of water’ — this means the masters of Aggadah, who draw the heart of man
like water by means of Aggadic teachings.
5] ‘The mighty man’ — this means the masters of halachic traditions.
6] ‘And the man of war’ — this means one who knows how to engage in discussion in the battle of
the Torah.
7] ‘The judge’ — this means a judge who passes judgment in the strictest accord with truth.
8] ‘The prophet’ — according to the literal meaning of the word.
9] ‘The diviner’ — this means the King, for it is said: There is a divination on the lips of the King.
10] ‘The elder’ — this means one who is worthy to sit in the Rabbinical academy.
11] ‘The captain of fifty’: do not read ‘the captain of fifty (chamishim),’ but rather ‘the prince of the
Pentateuch (chumashim)’; it means one who knows how to engage in discussion in the five books
of the Torah. Another explanation: ‘the captain of fifty’ — as Rabbi Avahu taught; for Rabbi Avahu
said: From here we derive that a spokesman may not be appointed over a congregation if he (the
Rabbi) is less than fifty years of age.
12] ‘And the respected man’ — this means one for whose sake, deference is shown to his generation
above, like Rabbi Chanina ben Dosa (as a Heavenly voice declared each day that the whole world
was sustained in the merit of Rabbi Chanina ben Dosa), or below (on earth) like Rabbi Avahu at the
palace of the Caesar (for when Rabbi Avahu would go from the Beis Medrash to the Caesar’s house,
the ladies of the Caesar’s household went out to receive him and sang about him, “Prince of his
people, leader of his nation, lantern of light, your coming should be blessed with peace”).
13] ‘The counsellor’ — this means one who knows how to determine the intercalation of years and
the fixation of months.
14] ‘And the scholar’ - this means a disciple who makes his teachers wise.
15] ‘Of scholars’ (charashin) — at the moment that he begins a Torah discourse, all become like
deaf mutes (cheirshin).
16] ‘And the comprehender’ — this means one who understands one fact from another fact.
17] ‘Of whispers’ — this means one who is worthy to have imparted to him the words of the Torah,
which was given in a whisper.
18] ‘And I will give children to be their princes’: what is the meaning of [the words], ‘I will give
children to be their princes’? Rabbi Elozar said: It means people who are empty of good deeds. ‘And
mockers shall rule over them’. Rav Acha bar Yaakov said: It means foxes sons of foxes (men who
are weak and inferior).

The Gemora concludes: ‘But he was not pacified until he said to them: The child shall behave
insolently against the elderly’: — those people who are empty of good deeds shall behave insolently
against those who are filled with good deeds, as a pomegranate (is full with seeds). ‘And the base
against the respectable’: those to whom grave sins appear as light ones will come and behave
insolently against those to whom light sins appear as weighty ones.

Rav Katina taught that even at the time of Jerusalem’s downfall, there were still people of truth, as
it is said, when a man will grasp his relative, a member of his father’s house, [saying,] ‘You have a
garment! Become a benefactor for us.’ The word garment is interpreted to refer to matters of Torah
which people would cover up like a garment. People were lax in Torah study and when asked a
question they would feign ignorance and pretend that they had not heard the question. When they
would discover someone who was knowledgeable in Torah, they would grasp him and ask him to be
their leader, i.e. to teach them Torah. It is said further in that verse and let this stumbling block be
under your hand. This stumbling block refers to Torah, which are matters that students do not pay
close attention to until they have been corrected several times. It is said further, he shall raise up an
oath that day saying: I will not be a ruler, and in my house there is no bread and no garment; do not
install me as a chief of the people. The word ‘raise up’ refers to an oath. The words ‘I will not be a
ruler’ means I did not become one of those who locked themselves up in the study hall, i.e. I was not
diligent in my Torah study. The words ‘and in my house there is no bread and no garment’ means
that I do not have a knowledge of Scripture, Mishnah, or Talmud. When the person would respond,
‘I am not accustomed to locking myself up in the study hall,’ he meant that he never knew the answer
to the question.

This statement that even at the time of Jerusalem’s downfall there were still people of truth is
contradicted from Rava’s statement that Jerusalem was only destroyed because people of truth had
disappeared from it. The Gemora answers that Rav Katina was speaking regarding words of Torah,
as regarding words of Torah people were honest in that they were not knowledgeable. Rava’s
statement, however, was regarding business matters, as in this respect, people of truth had
disappeared from Jerusalem. (

The Gemora cites a braisa: Rabban Yochanan Ben Zakkai was once riding on a donkey and Rabbi
Elozar Ben Arach was riding behind him, and Rabbi Elozar Ben Arach requested that Rabban
Yochanan Ben Zakkai teach him one chapter regarding the Ma’aseh Merkavah. Rabban Yochanan
Ben Zakkai responded, “Did I not teach you that one cannot expound the matter of the Ma’aseh
Merkavah to an individual unless he is wise and can understand on his own?” Rabbi Elozar Ben
Arach requested of Rabban Yochanan ben Zakkai that he allow him to relate one teaching that he
had learned from Rabban Yochanan Ben Zakkai. Rabban Yochanan Ben Zakkai agreed, and Rabban
Yochanan Ben Zakkai descended from his donkey, wrapped his face, and sat on a stone under an
olive tree.

When Rabbi Elozar Ben Arach questioned Rabban Yochanan Ben Zakkai regarding his behavior,
Rabban Yochanan Ben Zakkai responded, “is it possible that you are expounding on matters
regarding the Ma’aseh Merkavah, and the Divine Presence is amongst us and the angels are escorting
us, and I will remain riding on the donkey?”

Rabbi Elozar Ben Arach immediately began to expound on matters regarding the Ma’aseh Merkavah
and a fire descended from heaven and scorched all the trees in the field. All the trees then sang praise
to HaShem. An angel from the fire declared that what Rabbi Elozar Ben Arach had expounded on
was precisely the matters regarding the Heavenly Chariot. Rabban Yochanan Ben Zakkai stood up
and kissed Rabbi Elozar Ben Arach on his head, and he said: Blessed be Hashem, God of Israel,
Who has given a son to Avraham our father, who knows to speculate upon, and to delve into, and to
expound the Ma’aseh Merkavah! There are some who expound well but do not act well, others act
well but do not expound well, but you expound well and act well. Fortunate are you, O Avraham our
father that Rabbi Elozar Ben Arach has come forth from your loins.
Now, when these matters were told to Rabbi Yehoshua, he and Rabbi Yosi the Kohen were going
on a journey. They said: Let us also expound the Rabbi Elozar Ben Arach; so Rabbi Yehoshua began
an exposition. Now, that day was in the summer Tammuz season, and nevertheless, the heavens
became overcast with clouds and a kind of rainbow appeared in the cloud, and the ministering angels
assembled and came to listen like people who assemble and come to watch the merrymaking before
a groom and bride.

Afterwards, Rabbi Yosi the Kohen went and related what happened before Rabban Yochanan Ben
Zakkai; and Rabban Yochanan Ben Zakkaisaid: Fortunate are you, and fortunate is she that bore
you; fortunate are my eyes that have seen thus. Moreover, in my dream, I and you all were reclining
at Mount Sinai, when a Heavenly Voice resounded towards us from Heaven, saying: Ascend here,
ascend here! There are great banqueting halls and fine dining couches are prepared for you; you and
your disciples and your disciples’ disciples are invited for the third division.

The Gemora asks: But is this so? For behold it was taught in a braisa: Rabbi Yosi the son of Rabbi
Yehudah said: There were three discourses (dealing with Ma’aseh Merkavah): Rabbi Yehoshua
discoursed before Rabban Yochanan Ben Zakkai, Rabbi Akiva discoursed before Rabbi Yehoshua,
Chananya ben Chachinai discoursed before Rabbi Akiva; whereas Rabbi Elozar Ben Arach he does
not mention!?

The Gemora answers: One who discoursed himself, and others discoursed before him, he mentions;
one who discoursed himself, but others did not discourse before him, he does not mention. The
Gemora asks: But behold there is Chananya ben Chachinai before whom others did not discourse,
yet he mentions him!? The Gemora answers: He at least discoursed before one who discoursed before
others.

OUR LEADERS ARE THE EYES OF THE NATION

Our Gemora cites a compelling statement from Rav Dimi. He said, "Yeshayah u cursed Klal Yisrael
with eighteen curses. Yet, he was not satisfied until he pronounced, "The youngster will behave
insolently against the elder, and the base against the honorable."

Yeshayahu uttered eighteen terrible curses, each one grave and serious with awesome ramifications.
That was not sufficient. He wanted to deliver the final blow, the blow that would have the greatest
effect. What was that curse that would outdo all the others, that would devastate Klal Yisrael's chance
for survival? It was the one that pronounced an end to the authority of the zekeinim, elders, and
talmidei chachamim, Torah scholars. We cannot survive without their leadership. Why is this? Why
is Klal Yisrael so unique that it cannot exist without the institution of elders?

Rabbi A. Leib Scheinbaum in his Peninim al Hatoah explains: Rabbi Akiva compares us to a bird.
Just as a bird cannot fly without its wings, so, too is Klal Yisrael helpless without its elders. A bird
uses its wings to go higher and to remain airborne. Otherwise, it will fall to the ground, a helpless
broken bird. Without its leadership, Klal Yisrael will not only not go forward; it will actually fall
and cease to exist. A generation's greatest disgrace is demonstrated when the people do not show
respect to their gedolim, leaders.

How shameful is it when people refer to gedolei haTorah in the most pedestrian terms? The arrogance
of the common Jew, his self-declared scholarship, provokes chutzpah towards our leaders. One
cannot accept leadership from another if he is filled with himself.
The Satmar Rebbe, zl, once set forth criteria for a gadol to be accepted. He must first be a talmid
chacham, totally proficient in all areas of Torah erudition. Secondly, he must be a yarei Shomayim,
G-d fearing person, who will not adapt his psak, halachic decision, as a result of outside pressures
or personal vested interests. Third, he must have special, common sense. He must possess an acute
ability to understand and deal with all people. He should be able to ferret out those who would
undermine the Torah way of life.

A gadol is the embodiment of Torah; he reflects it in his total demeanor. To respect a gadol is to
respect the Torah. To deny a Torah leader the respect he deserves is to challenge the Torah itself.
One of the distinguished laymen who heard the Satmar Rav's comments questioned him regarding a
certain rav who fit the criteria, yet whose views regarding Orthodoxy were in contradiction to the
Satmar Rav's. The Rav responded that indeed the gadol in question truly "fit the bill," but was
deficient in one area. He was not "meshamesh," did not serve in such a capacity that he understood
how to deal with the incursions against Torah Judaism. Only certain rabbonim, such as those who
served in a number of the larger communities in Hungary, in which they were compelled to fight a
holy war to preserve the sanctity of Torah and mitzvos from those who would do anything to impugn
and destroy the Torah way of life, were able to impart lessons based upon their own life's experience.

The Satmar Rav was an individual who, in addition to being a brilliant talmid chacham and pikeach,
had absorbed a wealth of wisdom and knowledge from his rebbeim, who themselves were the gedolei
Yisrael of the previous generation. It is written [Devarim 1:13]: Provide for yourselves distinguished
men, who are wise, understanding, and well known to your tribes, and I shall appoint them as your
heads. (1:13) In a play on the word "and I will appoint them," the Midrash changes the "sin" to a
"shin", transforming the word to "and I shall hold them guilty". The Midrash is teaching us the
importance of listening to our spiritual leaders. If they lead properly and the common people still do
not respond with respect, the people are liable. They cite an interesting analogy.

Once a snake was sliding along its path, when the tail began complaining to the head, "Why are you
always in the front with me dragging along behind? I want to lead, while you follow in the rear."
The head responded, "Very well. We will switch positions, and you will lead. Since the tail has no
eyes, we can well understand what happened. The snake fell into a pit, then it was singed by fire.
Finally it was scratched by a thorn bush into which it had run. The fate suffered by the snake was to
be expected, given the fact that the tail had guided it.

Similarly, when the common Jew attempts to usurp the spiritual leadership of Klal Yisrael, we are
beset with bruises -- and in many instances -- serious injury. Our Torah leaders are the "eyes" of the
nation. They lead because they have vision. They have the necessary perspective to guide the people
on the correct and safe path. Even the best leader will succeed only if he has the respect and
approbation of the people he is to lead. One earns this respect by virtue of his character and
scholarship. At times, however, the people themselves are not worthy of their leadership, not
recognizing the leaders' virtue and capabilities.

Rabbi Scheinbaum continues: Horav Yeruchem Levovitz, zl, explains that when the youth lose
respect for their elders -- when they wrest the reins of leadership away from those whose wisdom is
tempered by life's experiences, from a leadership whose counsel is inspired by the Torah giants of a
previous era -- Klal Yisrael is as good as dead. This is not life! Indeed, such a circumstance represents
the greatest curse.

A nation whose leadership is not "mekabel," will not accept advice from their elders, who are
obsessed with their arrogance and sheer chutzpah; who denigrate the authority of their elders and
render decisions based upon their own brash ideas, and shaped by their own vested interests, is not
living a Torah life. Such a generation does not truly live.

Horav Chaim Shmuelevitz, zl, explains that the Jewish people are unlike other nations, in that they
cannot survive without the institution of "zekeinim," elders. While other nations manage to survive
without the leadership of sages or elders, our uniqueness renders our elders an essential prerequisite
for our existence, rather than a mere luxury. It is Rabbi Akiva who says, "Yisrael is likened to a bird.
Just as a bird cannot fly away without its wings, so, too, is Yisrael helpless without its elders." Rav
Chaim explains that a bird without its wings is in a worse situation than an animal who never had
wings. It remains a helpless, pitiful creature, victimized by any creature bigger and more powerful
than it. Klal Yisrael without elders is just like that bird. It cannot survive. Undermining the power of
our elders is tantamount to striking a powerful blow to the core of the life force of the Jewish People.

Horav Yechezkel Abramski, zl, put the idea into perspective with the following illustration: Imagine
sitting at a distance of one hundred yards from a given point and asking a group of people if they are
able to see a picture at this distance. One person will say he can only see thirty yards, while another
will see forty yards, and yet another will see up to seventy yards. Suddenly, someone comes along
with incredible eyesight who can see up to one hundred yards! Indeed, if all of the other people
would get together, they could nevertheless not see as well as he, because the sight is limited. Having
them all get together is to no avail because the eyesight of the individuals is still deficient.

The same idea applies to our Torah leaders: They see what others cannot; their vision extends beyond
the grasp of the average person. Thus, if an entire group gets together to express their opinion in
opposition of one gadol, their position carries no weight, because they cannot see what he sees. Their
vision is stinted; their perspective is myopic. This is the reason that our Torah leaders are referred to
as "einei ha'am," the eyes of the nation.

PEOPLE OF TRUSTWORTHINESS

Rav Mordechai Kornfeld writes:3

Rav Katina teaches that even during the time of the fall of Yerushalayim and the destruction of the
Beis ha'Mikdash, "men of trustworthiness did not cease [to exist]." The Gemara challenges this from
a teaching of Rava, who says that the Beis ha'Mikdash was destroyed because there ceased to exist
men of trustworthiness.

The Gemara concludes that with regard to business activities, there were no trustworthy people left
in Yerushalayim. In Torah matters, though, there were still trustworthy people who could be believed
when they said that they did not know Torah.

What is so noteworthy about the fact that people were proud to be honest and say that they did not
know Torah?

3
https://www.dafyomi.co.il/chagigah/insites/cg-dt-014.htm
HA'GAON RAV SHLOMO FISHER (author of SEFER BEIS YISHAI) explains the Gemara as
follows (as heard from him in person).

The SEFER HA'AKEIDAH and ABARBANEL explain that Hash-m gave the Jewish people a
special blessing that "men of trustworthiness in Torah would not cease to exist." The essence of this
blessing is Hash-m's promise that the Torah will never be forgotten (Devarim 31:21). In order for
the Torah not to be forgotten, Hash-m blessed the people that when the elders do not know the Torah,
they will admit it; this blessing prevents the forging and misconstruing of the Torah.

Rav Fisher adds that this approach may explain the choice of Tehilim 12 as the Psalm of the day for
Shemini Atzeres (Simchas Torah). This Psalm does not seem to be related in any way to Shemini
Atzeres or Simchas Torah. The Psalm reads, "Save us Hash-m, because... no one can be trusted
anymore, everyone speaks falsely... the words of Hash-m are pure words, like finely refined silver.
You, Hash-m, will protect them, You will preserve them from this generation forever."

RAV SAMSON REFAEL HIRSCH writes that there is a fine correlation between Pesach\Shavuos
and Sukos\Shemini Atzeres. The first pair, Pesach and Shavuos, represents the "birth" of the nation
and the Torah. The second pair, Sukos and Shemini Atzeres, represents the continuity of the nation
and the Torah.

Accordingly, Tehilim 12 indeed is most appropriate for Shemini Atzeres. The subject of Tehilim 12
is the special blessing that men of trustworthiness in Torah will never cease. As explained above,
this blessing safeguards the continuity of the Torah. Since Shemini Atzeres celebrates the continuity
of the nation and the Torah, it is most appropriate to discuss on that day Hash-m's blessing that the
Torah will be preserved through all of the generations: "No one can be trusted anymore, everyone
speaks falsely... [but] the words of Hash-m (i.e. the Torah) are pure... You, Hash-m, will protect
them, You will preserve them from this generation forever."

WHAT NOT TO SAY WHEN ONE VISITS THE PARDES

Rebbi Akiva warned those who planned to enter the Pardes that when they see the "clear marble
stones" they should not say, "Water! Water!" because "the speaker of falsehood shall not stand before
My eyes" (Tehilim 101:7).

Although calling a marble stone "water" indeed is a falsehood, why is such a statement of falsehood
so terrible? Why did Rebbi Akiva need to warn them specifically about this?

The Izhbitzer Rebbe, in MEI HA'SHILO'ACH (volume 1, Parshas Emor) and BEIS YAKOV (Ki
Sisa 17), explains that Rebbi Akiva warned them not to say "Mayim" ("water") twice, lest they make
a tragic error. Rebbi Akiva realized that those who visit the Pardes might misconstrue what they see
and think that there is a division in authority over the upper and lower realms, represented by the
"Mayim Elyonim" and "Mayim Tachtonim" (upper waters and lower waters). Saying "Mayim" twice
implies that the upper and lower waters are separate and distinct from each other, which in turn
implies that Hash-m is not directly involved with everything that happens in the realm of the Mayim
Tachtonim. In reality, however, all realms -- upper and lower -- are connected and are under the sole
authority of Hash-m.

When the Gemara says that Acher's tragic flaw was that "he cut the Neti'os (plantlings)," it means
that he denied Hash-m's power and control over the lower worlds, the Tachtonim.
(The Ge'onim, cited in OTZAR HA'GE'ONIM, write that his sin was the attribution of authority
to two deities, one of good and one of bad.) Ben Zoma did not "cut off the Neti'os" as Acher did, but
he nevertheless remained confused and uncertain about the extent of Hash-m's dominion. That is
why Rebbi Yehoshua, when he heard Ben Zoma's comment that there is a three-Etzba separation
between the upper waters and lower waters, said that Ben Zoma is "still on the outside," meaning
that he still did not come to the realization that there is no more than a "hairsbreadth" ("k'Malei
Nima") of space between the upper and lower waters.

Perhaps the "hairsbreadth" alludes to the Yetzer ha'Ra which is likened to a hair (Sukah 52a). That
hairsbreadth, the Yetzer ha'Ra, is the only force which prevents the people from fully recognizing
the connection and inseparability between the upper realm and the lower realm.

This approach may also conform with RASHI's explanation. According to Rashi, Rebbi Akiva
warned them that when they see a floor of clear marble, they should not say, "It is water! How can I
walk there?" That is, they should not mistakenly think that there is a moat around Hash-m's palace,
so to speak, as though He is cut off from the rest of the world.

RABEINU CHANANEL explains that "clear marble stones" comprise the wall of the palace of the
Shechinah. A person should not think that the material which surrounds the palace is made of water
and serves to separate between the outside and inside of the palace. Rather, one should know that it
is clear marble which serves only to give honor to Hash-m and not to separate the inside from the
outside. The fact that the stone is clear and transparent shows that Hash-m is connected to everything
in this world even when He is in His palace, so to speak, and He sees everything through the
transparent walls of His palace.

Steinzaltz (OBM) writes:4

The Gemara on our daf quotes a baraita that tells of arba she-nikhnisu ba-pardes –

four tannaim who embarked on the study of esoteric secrets of the Torah: Rabbi
Akiva, Acher (literally “the other,” but here referring to the Tanna Elisha ben Avuya), Ben
Azzai and Ben Zoma. Rabbi Akiva, the eldest of the group, warned the others of the dangers involved
in such an experience – for example, not to be taken in by illusions when engaged in this study. He
told them that when entering the higher worlds and gazing on the pure marble, they should not shout
out “water, water,” for even though it appears to be water, it is an illusion, and someone who utters
a falsehood will not be allowed entrance into the higher realms (see Tehillim 101:7).

The expression pardes – which, in modern Hebrew, simply means “an orchard” – is mentioned
in Tanach (see Shir ha-Shirim 4:13). Its source is apparently ancient Persian, where it meant “an
enclosed area surrounded by a fence.” Variations of the word appear in many languages; English
speakers may be most familiar with it as the source of the word “paradise,” which is the way the
term Gan Eden is translated in the Septuagint. In our story in the Gemara, the pardes is, among other
things, “the garden of God.”

In the end, each of the four participants in this study had different reactions to it:

• Ben Azzai died, and the Sages ascribed the passage in Tehillim 116:15 to him.

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 • Ben Zoma lost his sanity, and the Sages ascribed the passage in Mishlei 25:16 to him.
• Acher lost his faith.
• Rabbi Akiva survived the ordeal peacefully.

Shimon ben Azzai and Shimon ben Zoma were among the Sages of the generation immediately
following the destruction of the Second Temple. Although we find a number of statements
of halakhah in the Talmud in their names, neither of them received formal semikhah (Rabbinic
ordination), most likely because of their youth.

Rabbi Yochanan ben Zakkai was riding on a donkey, and Rabbi Elazar ben Arach was following
him. Rabbi Elazar asked that Rabbi Yochanan teach him a chapter of Maaseh Merkavah.5

Rabbi Yochanan denied the request, reminding his student that such lessons cannot be transmitted.
Rabbi Elazar then offered to review a detail Rabbi Yochanan he had once taught him about Maaseh
Merkavah. To this, R’ Yochanan agreed. Maharsha notes that after Rav Yochanan refused to teach
Rabbi Elazar about Maaseh Merkavah, Rabbi Elazar immediately indicated that he had, in fact,
learned about the topic before, and from Rav Yochanan himself.

R’ Elazar asked to review the lesson, and Rav Yochanan even agreed to listen to his student. But did
not Rav Yochanan first say that he felt that teaching this topic to him was inappropriate?
Furthermore, Ben Ish Chai explains that Rav Elazar ben Arach was among the most outstanding
students of Rav Yochanan ben Zakkai (see Avos 2:12). Rav Yochanan certainly deemed him wise,
and one who understood things on his own.

Rabbi Elazar was qualified to study this sublime theme. The answer is that Rabbi Elazar had studied
with Rabbi Yochanan before, but they had only touched upon ‫—פרקים ראשי‬general topics. This is
the extent of what a teacher can expose to a fitting student. However, in this episode, Rabbi Elazar
asked to be taught ‫—אחד פרק‬a full chapter of Maaseh Merkavah. This was too extensive of an
exposure for Rabbi Yochanan ben Zakkai to transmit, even to his star student. At that point, Rabbi
Elazar requested merely to review some of the general ideas which they had previously studied , and
Rabbi Yochanan agreed to hear it.

At this point, Rabbi Yochanan prepared himself in a detailed manner. He descended from his donkey,
wrapped himself in a tallis, sat on a stone and found a spot under an olive tree. What is the
significance of these specific details of Rav Yochanan’s preparing to hear the teaching? Ben Ish Chai
explains that wrapping oneself in a tallis with tzitzis represents one’s being enveloped with an ‫מקיף‬
‫—אור‬a special spiritual light which encircles a person. A stone is a humble place upon which to sit,
and the oil is derived from olives through crushing and pounding.

These represent the fact that a person is only worthy for advancement in Torah if he possesses an
exceedingly humble spirit.

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Rashi (1) in Masseches Shabbos declares that the garment that has tzitzis should be white.

The Bach (2) explains that this practice is based on the fact that Hashem wears a white talis. The
Gemara in Rosh Hashanah (3) relates that Hashem donned a talis to teach Moshe Rabbeinu the
Thirteen Attributes of Mercy, and the pasuk in Daniel, cited in our Gemara, states that Hashem’s
garments are white. This indicates that Hashem’s talis is white and in our effort to emulate Him we
also wear a white talis.

The Magen Avrohom (4) notes that this explanation of Bach is seemingly inconsistent with the
explanation offered by Bach in a different place for the custom to wear a white talis. Shulchan Aruch
(5) cites an opinion who maintains that the tzitzis should be the same color as the talis. Rema (6)
writes that Ashkenazim customarily put white tzitzis even on colored garments. Bach7 writes that to
avoid entering into the dispute it is best for a person to wear a white garment with white tzitzis,
which is acceptable according to all opinions.

A practical difference between these two explanations would be putting colored tzitzis onto a colored
garment. According to the first explanation, an effort should be made to have a white talis in order
to emulate Hashem whereas according to the second explanation there is no reason to obtain a white
garment as long as the talis and the tzitzis are the same color.

Mishnah Berurah (8) cites both explanations of Bach and writes that ideally one should wear a white
garment since that is ideal according to all opinions. Common custom amongst Ashkenazim is to
have black stripes on one’s talis and talis katan.

The Pri Megadim9 mentions the custom to have blue stripes on garments to serve as a reminder of
techeles. Sefer Minhag Yisroel Torah (10) suggests, based on a comment of Rambam, that black is
similar to techeles, and it is intended to also serve as a reminder of the color techeles.
Once the Chofetz Chaim, zt”l, and Rav Chaim Soleveitchik, zt”l, were staying at the same inn.
Another guest approached the two Gedolim and asked them a question, “It is well known that the
Gemara in Chagiga 14a states that there were either six or seven hundred sidrei Mishnah, and only
six of them remain to us. What were the contents of all those Mishnayos that were not put in our six
orders?”

The Chofetz Chaim said, “You misunderstand the meaning of the statement that there were six or
seven hundred orders. It was not that there were other subjects of which we have not heard; rather,
there were enough Mishnayos to fill six or seven hundred sedarim. In my opinion, the many teachings
that we find in the Gemara and Geonim until today, all of the teachings innovated in each generation
is the living restoration of all this lost Torah.

Through dedicated study, the Chachomim of every generation have merited this. And there has
certainly been enough to fill six hundred sedarim of Mishnah and more! In the introduction to Shenos
Eliyahu, Rav Chaim of Volozhin, zt”l, explained that through Ruach Hakodesh, Rabbeinu Hakadosh
alluded to all six hundred sedorim in the terse language of his six. Everything is really encoded in
our Mishnayos.”

Rav Chaim Brisker then added, “I would like to note that there is a fundamental difference between
the words of the Gemara and the words of those who came later, even the Geonim. The general
principle of ‘these and those are the words of the living G-d,’ only applies to the words of the Gemara
itself. In reference to the rest this rule does not always apply. The words of the Talmud are in a much
higher category than anything that came afterward!”

Rachel Scheinerman writes:6

Yesterday we saw that when a young student stumbled on to the true understanding
of the merkavah (divine chariot) as described in Ezekiel 1, he spontaneously burst into flame. This
unfortunate accident prompts the sages to consider banning the Book of Ezekiel altogether, lest other
unwitting individuals discover the divine secret and get burned.

But what happens when it is not a hapless student but the greatest rabbis who contemplate the
merkavah? Can they do it safely? This is the question addressed in several stories on today’s daf,
and it includes one of the most famous in the Talmud.

The sages know that mystical speculation is playing with fire — literally. For instance, when Rabban
Yohanan ben Zakkai, credited elsewhere in the Gemara with saving rabbinic Judaism from
extinction, and his student Rabbi Elazar ben Arakh (also no slouch) are riding together, the latter
gains his teacher’s permission to recite just a single piece of the merkavah tradition. This is what
happens:

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Rabban Yohanan ben Zakkai alighted from the donkey, and wrapped himself, and sat on a stone
under an olive tree.
Rabbi Elazar said to him: My teacher, for what reason did you alight from the donkey?

He said: Is it possible that while you are expounding the merkavah, and the Divine Presence is
with us, and the ministering angels are accompanying us, that I should ride on a donkey?

Immediately, Rabbi Elazar ben Arakh began to expound the merkavah, and fire descended from
heaven and encircled all the trees in the field, and all the trees began singing.

We always knew the rabbis thought learning had enormous power. But when it comes to the study
of the merkavah, its power is otherworldly. Rabban Yohanan ben Zakkai instinctively knows what
will happen when his student begins to recite: God will descend among them. Ben Zakkai dismounts
his donkey out of respect and wraps himself in his cloak, presumably to hide his face so he cannot
look directly at God.

In a similar story, this time about Rabbi Yosei the priest and Rabbi Yehoshua, God’s presence looks
very different: a clear sky is suddenly thronged with clouds that crack apart to admit a beautiful
rainbow. Ministering angels rush to the scene, rejoicing as if it were a wedding.
In both of these stories, God’s presence, called down simply by the act of studying the divine chariot,
brings grave danger (a ring of fire, an ominous cloudbank) but also ecstatic joy (singing trees,
celebrating angels).

It is in this context that we encounter one of the most famous stories in the Talmud. Now, instead of
one hapless student stumbling on the secret, or a cautious rabbi expounding a fraction of it to another
(in keeping with the Mishnah’s admonishment that the merkavah is only taught in one-on-one
settings), we have four rabbis who together embark on a journey of mystical discovery:

Four entered the pardes and they are as follows: Ben Azzai; and ben Zoma; Aher, and Rabbi
Akiva.

Rabbi Akiva said to them: When you reach pure marble stones, do not say: Water, water, because
it is stated: “He who speaks falsehood shall not be established before my eyes.” (Psalms 101:7)

Ben Azzai glimpsed and died. And with regard to him the verse states: “Precious in the eyes of
the Lord is the death of his pious ones.” (Psalms 116:15)

Ben Zoma glimpsed and was harmed. And with regard to him the verse states: “Have you found
honey? Eat as much as is sufficient for you, lest you become full from it and vomit it.”(Proverbs
25:16)

Aher cut down the shoots.

Rabbi Akiva emerged safely.

Versions of this story, told in just a few lines, are found scattered throughout rabbinic literature. It is
also the inspiration for at least two modern novels: Milton Steinberg’s As a Driven Leaf and Myla
Goldberg’s Bee Season. The story was clearly as resonant for the ancient rabbis as it is for us today.
These four rabbis don’t just study the merkavah; they go in search of it. The word pardes literally
means orchard and is etymologically linked to the word paradise, both reasons interpreters have
supposed that it alludes to the Garden of Eden, the original paradise, with its forbidden Tree of
Knowledge at the center.

Another interpretation holds that this four letter Hebrew word is an acronym for the four traditional
methods of biblical interpretation: p’shat (plain), remez (hint), sod (secret) and drash (inquiry) —
suggesting the journey these four undertook had to do with attaining the most esoteric levels of
scriptural understanding. However we understand where the rabbis went — Rashi suggests they
literally ascended to heaven by speaking one of the divine names — they were clearly in search of
some deep mystical understanding.

We don’t know why these four rabbis went on such an obviously dangerous mission. Perhaps the
thought of meeting God was impossibly compelling. Three would never be the same again. Ben
Azzai immediately loses his life, Ben Zoma is harmed (usually understood to mean that he loses his
mind; the verse attached to him suggests his system is overwhelmed by God’s glory), Aher — a
rabbi who is simply referred to here as “other” because he became a heretic, commonly presumed to
be Elisha ben Abuya — “cut down the shoots,” meaning perhaps that he annihilated future
generations. Only Rabbi Akiva emerges from God’s presence unscathed, putting him on par with
Moses who was able to see God panim el panim, face to face.

Why Rabbi Akiva? Certainly, he was a significant rabbi. In fact, if you were asked to pick the most
significant rabbi of all time, Akiva would be a defensible choice. More than any other, he was
responsible for designing the entire rabbinic enterprise. His philosophy of midrashic interpretation,
his halakhic thought, his organization of the Oral Torah, even his decisions about what to include in
scripture — all of it shaped the rabbinic project (see, for instance, Sanhedrin 86a). He was so
significant that there are many legends like this one about his life, from his humble beginnings to his
iconic marriage and heart-breaking martyrdom. The Talmud relates that Moses himself was
privileged to sit in Akiva’s classroom — and understood nothing, acknowledging Akiva as the
greater scholar. (Menachot 29b)

Perhaps the real key to Akiva’s genius is what we see on display in this story, his Einstein-like ability
to creatively imagine that which is difficult to expect and nearly impossible to conceive. As he and
his colleagues prepare to ascend to God’s presence, he warns them: “When you reach pure marble
stones, do not say: Water, water.”

Akiva knows that the divine realm will be unlike anything experienced on earth. He seems to have
anticipated that the marble of God’s palace is so perfectly polished it will shimmer blindingly, like
water under a hot sun. He warns his colleagues: Do not trust your eyes. Do not assume you know
what you are seeing. Do not be blinded by radiance and keep your focus. But in the end, his is the
only mind that can adapt to such splendors.
Rabbi Johnny Solomon writes:7

Our daf (Chagigah 14b) informs us how four different Torah scholars – Ben Azzai, Ben Zoma,
Acher and Rabbi Akiva - entered the ‘Pardes’ (which is a word literally translated as meaning
‘orchard’, but which is - in fact - the root of the English word ‘Paradise’), and that while Rabbi Akiva
entered and left in peace, the other three scholars reacted quite differently: Ben Azzai ‘gazed and
died’, Ben Zoma ‘lost his mind’, and Acher ‘lost his faith’.

Clearly, just by reading about what happened to these scholars, it is evident that what is being
described is not a simple walk in a fruit orchard, but rather, something much more sophisticated. As
such, this text is understood to be describing how each scholar went on their own mystical journey
during which they each sought to ascend – as Rashi explains – to the divine firmament.

As one may expect, much has been written about this text, and especially about why each scholar
reacted the way they did (nb. for a great analysis about Ben Azzai and Acher, see Ch’s 6 & 7 of
Rabbi Ari Kahn’s ‘The Crowns on the Letters’), while others – in seeking to explain the ‘Pardes’
experience – have focussed on the idea that the word ‫ פרדס‬can be understood as an acronym for the
four different ways we can engage with Torah, namely: ‫( פשט‬peshat ) – understanding the
straightforward meaning of verses, ‫( רמז‬remez) – understanding deeper ideas which are hinted to by
particular biblical words, ‫( דרש‬drash) – understanding ideas embedded in words that can only be
understood through homiletic exegesis, and, ‫( סוד‬sod) – understanding mystical ideas that are hidden
within the words of the Torah.

Of course, along with a deeper experience with Torah comes a greater depth and sensitivity in the
observance of mitzvot, which means that to ‘enter into the Pardes’ has both intellectual and practical
ramifications. However, if done right, entering the ‘Pardes’ offers the possibility of an extraordinary
spiritual experience which is why entering the ‘Pardes’ is considered to be like entering ‘Paradise’.

But having explained all this, the question is why should a journey of Torah learning and mystical
study be so dangerous? And why did just once scholar enter and leave the Pardes in peace? To answer
this, I would like to share an analogy that I have used over the years to explain these four different
ways that we can engage with Torah.

As you may know, an idea repeatedly mentioned by our Sages is that Torah is compared to water,
and that the body of Torah is comparable to an ocean. With this in mind, I would now like to speak
about four different levels of the ocean that we can experience and the skills necessary to do so.

The first level is surface level swimming, where a swimmer requires some skill, while what they see
is primarily just the water ahead and around them, with limited ability to see far into the body of
water in which they are swimming. Having been taught to swim, most of us can do surface level
swimming, and the more you practice, the better you get.

The second level is swimming underwater with goggles. This requires more training than surface
level swimming because the underwater swimmer needs to know how to take deep breaths before
they take the plunge, and they also need to ensure that they are wearing their goggles correctly so
that they don’t get filled with water. However, unlike surface level swimming, someone who swims
underwater gets to see an underwater world that is not visible to those who just do surface level

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swimming - although only that which is a few metres below the surface of the water. Here too, the
more you practice, the better you get.

The third is scuba diving, and to do this, a scuba diver needs to train in order to learn how to breath
with an air tank, how to control their buoyancy etc. While both surface level and underwater
swimming carry some risks, scuba diving is more dangerous and not all people have the skills to do
so. Yet with this training and this greater risk comes the opportunity to encounter the exquisite
underwater world of beautiful sea creatures and coral.

Finally, there are some people who, after a huge amount of training, can develop the skills to deep
sea dive. This type of diving carries way more risks than all others, and surfacing too quickly can be
incredibly dangerous. As such, only a small number of people can deep sea dive. However, a deep
sea diver sees things that others are unlikely to ever experience or fully understand because they
encounter creatures that only reside on the sea bed.

Having explained all this, when I think of people wishing to enter the ‘Pardes’, I think of scholars
trying to journey from peshat, down to remez, down to drash, and down to sod, like a swimmer who
attempts to go deep sea diving in order to experience the paradise of the deep sea. And just as very
few people can safely and successfully go deep sea diving unless they have rigorously trained their
body and mind, and just as those who attempt to do so without the required training and experience
risk severe sickness, permanent damage to their lungs, or even death, so too, very few people can
enter and leave the Pardes in peace.

Based on all the above, the question I would like to address is what lessons can we learn from this
story since few of us have necessarily attempted to ‘enter the Pardes’, or ascend to the divine
firmament. And to answer, I would briefly like to talk about those who – in terms of religious practice
- try and go too deep too quickly, those who don’t know how to take the right breaths when they
swim underwater, and those who surface too quickly.

In terms of the first category, I am primarily referring to those referred to as Ba’alei Teshuva and
who – in their choice to become more religiously observant - often try and adopt many mitzvot all
at once. Of course, the desire to do so is understandable, and it may be compared to how even a
beginner swimmer wants to see underwater and encounter beautiful sea creatures and coral. But just
as it is unsafe for someone who doesn’t know how to swim to try and dive deep into water, there are
serious risks that exist with those who try and go too deep to quickly in their religious growth.

The second category refers to those who are already observant and who swim somewhere below the
surface of the ocean of Torah - which includes underwater swimmers or scuba divers. Yet while
these are not the same, both can prove fatal if the swimmer doesn’t know when to take a breath either
before swimming underwater, or while attached to their scuba gear. With this in mind, I think that
one of the errors of some people who live religiously intense lives is that they fail to take a breath
when they need to – which itself carries various personal and religious risks.

Finally, there are those who, for whatever reason, feel the need to decrease the depth with which
they are swimming, yet here too, surfacing too quickly can also be incredibly dangerous. As such,
someone who wishes to do so needs patience and wisdom.

Overall, Jewish learning, and Jewish living, is not risk free, and even great scholars can make the
mistake of trying to reach a level that is not right, or safe, for them. Which means that while it is
important to reach our potential, it is equally important to know our limits as well.
 Four Entered Paradise
PARDES RIMONIM OF RABBI MOSHE CORDEVERO (THE 'RAMAK')

Rabbi Moshe Miller writes: 8

The Talmud (Chagiga 14b), Zohar (I, 26b) and Tikunei Zohar (Tikun 40) report the following
incident regarding four Mishnaic Sages

The Rabbis taught: Four [Sages] entered the Pardes [literally "the orchard." Rashi explains that they
ascended to heaven by utilizing the [Divine] Name, i.e., they achieved a spiritual elevation (Tosafot,
ad loc) through intense meditation on G-d's Name]. They were Ben Azzai, Ben Zoma, Acher [Elisha
ben Avuya, called Acher - the other one - because of what happened to him after he entered the
Pardes] and Rabbi Akiva. Rabbi Akiva said to them [prior to their ascension]: "When you come to
the place of pure marble stones, do not say, 'Water! Water!' for it is said, 'He who speaks untruths
shall not stand before My eyes' (Psalms 101:7)." Ben Azzai gazed [at the Divine Presence - Rashi]
and died. Regarding him the verse states, "Precious in the eyes of G-d is the death of His pious ones"
(Psalms 116:15). Ben Zoma gazed and was harmed [he lost his sanity - Rashi]. Regarding him the
verse states, "Did you find honey? Eat as only much as you need, lest you be overfilled and vomit it
up" (Proverbs 25:16). Acher cut down the plantings [he became a heretic]. Rabbi Akiva entered in
peace and left in peace.

Ramak now cites the Tikunei Zohar which adds some details not mentioned in the Talmud

The ancient Saba [an old man] stood up and said [to Rabbi Shimon bar Yochai], "Rabbi, Rabbi!
What is the meaning of what Rabbi Akiva said to his students, "When you come to the place of pure
marble stones, do not say, 'Water! Water!' lest you place yourselves in danger, for it is said, 'He who

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speaks untruths shall not stand before My eyes.' But it is written, "There shall be a firmament between
the waters, and it shall separate between water [above the firmament] and water [below the
firmament]" (Genesis 1:6). Since the Torah describes the division of the waters in to upper and lower,
why should it be problematic to mention this division? Furthermore, since there are [in fact] upper
and lower waters, why did Rabbi Akiva warn them, "do not say, 'Water! Water!'"

The Holy Lamp [a title accorded to Rabbi Shimon bar Yochai] replied, "Saba, it is proper that you
reveal this secret that the chevraya [Rabbi Shimon's circle of disciples] have not grasped clearly."

The ancient Saba answered, "Rabbi, Rabbi, Holy Lamp. Surely the pure marble stones are the letter
yud - one the upper yud of the letter aleph, and one the lower yud of the letter aleph [an aleph in
script is formed by an upright yud at the top to the right, and an upside-down yud at the bottom to
the left, joined by a vav, the diagonal line between them - à]. Here there is no spiritual impurity; only
pure marble stones, and so there is no separation between one water and the other; they form a single
unity from the aspect of the Tree of Life, which is the vav in the midst of the letter aleph. In this
regard it states, "[lest he put forth his hand] and if he take of the Tree of Life [and eat and live forever]
(Genesis 3:22)…

Ramak now begins to analyze these passages

The meaning of Rabbi Akiva's exhortation is that the Sages should not declare that there are two
types of water. Since there are not [two types of water] one would be causing a separation. This is
the meaning of "do not say, 'water, water'" - do not say that there are two types of water, lest you
endanger yourself because of the sin of separation. For this reason the old man asked two questions,
both of which are real questions: "There shall be a firmament between the waters, and it shall
separate… (Genesis 1:6). Thus there are two types of water and a separation between them. In this
case, does it not appear to be permissible to refer to two types of water? Even more problematic is
that the Torah itself states, "It shall separate between water and water" - the water above the
firmament and the water below the firmament. This is a complete separation.

The old man asked a second question - the waters are in fact of two types: water above the firmament
and water below the firmament [in rivers, lakes, and seas]. Why then did Rabbi Akiva exhort them
not to say "water, water, lest they endanger themselves?" On the contrary; it should be permitted to
mention two types of water, for this is no worse than the language used by the Torah, and this is also
the situation in fact!

Now Rabbi Shimon did not wish to explain this matter himself; he wanted his disciples to hear it
from the old man. The old man explained that each of the marble stones represents the letter yud. As
we have explained elsewhere this means a yud at the beginning, and a yud at the end, according to
the mystical explanation of "I am first, and I am last" (Isaiah 44:6). The first yud represents chochma,
and the second yud represents malchut, which is also chochma according to the mystical explanation
of the light that returns from below to above (called or chozer). The upper yud is the yud of the
Tetragrammaton (Yud-Hei-Vov-Hei) while the lower yud is the yud of the Name Alef-Dalet-Nun-
Yud.

The latter is the concept of "female waters" (Mayin Nukvin), and the former the concept of "male
waters" (Mayin Dechurin). They are called "female waters" because they receive from below, from
the performance of the commandments, and through them a person has the ability to affect the higher
worlds so that the light will shine forth and become clothed in them, as in a palace. Thus the light
that is elicited [by the performance of the commandments] is [like] a king in his palace.
These are also the keys to the inner and outer aspects. The inner aspect is the light of the
Tetragrammaton, which undoubtedly descends as or yashar from above to below. The outer aspect
is the returns according to the mystical explanation of or chozer. This is the meaning of the statement
in regard to the sefirot "from below to above, and from above to below," as explained elsewhere.
This is signified by the top and the bottom yuds of the aleph. This is also the secret of the intertwining
(shiluv) of the two Names -Yud-Alef-Hei-Dalet-Vov-Nun-Hei-Yud - with the upper yud at the
beginning and the lower yud at the end.

These two yuds are referred to in the passage "pure marble stones." Each of the yuds is a stone
because its shape is round like a stone. It is called "marble" because marble is generally white, which
is indicative of the attribute of rachamim (mercy or compassion). In this sense it is also similar to
water [which represents kindness]. Now since these two yuds are the aspect of compassion, just like
water, which is called "waters of kindness," they are therefore referred to as "marble," as we just
explained.

We can also explain this by way of [the science of] tzeiruf (letter combinations and permutations):
The sefira of chochma is called yesh - "being" [since it is the first immanent sefira], spelled Yud-
Shin in Hebrew. The lower chochma [i.e., malchut] is called shai [Shin-Yud -- the identical letters,
but in reverse order]. When both words are combined they form the word shayish - Shin-Yud-Shin
("marble"). The yud is chochma, the source, and the shin is the emanation of its branches [i.e., the
branching out into sefirot according to the mystical explanation of or yashar]… Malchut is called
shai according to the mystical explanation of the light that reverses (or chozer). When these two
words, signifying these two types of light, are combined to form the word shayish (the two yuds
combine into one).

They are called "pure," for there are a number of different types of water [mentioned in the Torah];
one of these is mei nida - literally waters of impurity [because they are used to purify a person after
he became contaminated by contact with the dead. Water from a living spring is mixed with the ashes
of the red heifer and is then sprinkled upon the impure person]. Separation and division are
mentioned in regard to this type of water, as will be explained. These waters [of the pure] marble
stones are completely pure and pertain to Atzilut.

"They are the letter yud - one the upper yud of the letter aleph…" We already explained above that
the Name Yud-Alef-Hei-Dalet-Vov-Nun-Hei-Yud has the upper and lower aspects of chochma
[represented by the two yuds] and six letters in between, alluding to the letter vav [which has a
numerical value of 6. Note that the upper and lower yuds of the aleph are joined by a diagonal vav.
This is the way a scribe traditionally writes the letter à]. This symbolizes tiferet, which branches out
into six extremities [tiferet is the central sefira of the six sefirot of Zeir Anpin]. The vav is situated
between the yuds in order to join them. That is to say, through tiferet the daughter [malchut] is able
to ascend "to her father's house as in her youth."

It is for this reason that Rabbi Akiva warned them not to say that those two marble stones were
separated from one another, G-d forbid, for this is not true. On the contrary, the firmament between
them, which is tiferet, actually unites them and through it they are joined together. There is no
separation other than in a place of spiritual impurity, as it is written, "to separate between the impure
and the pure" (Leviticus 11:47). But in a place of purity - pure marble stones - "do not say, 'water,
water." This is what the old man was explaining, "Here there is no spiritual impurity… they are from
the aspect of the Tree of Life…" These waters are in Atzilut and therefore there is no separation
between them… on the contrary, the firmament unites them….

Pardes, Shaar Arachei HaKinuim, s.v. Mayim

 Rabbi Pinchas Winston writes:9

We’re talking about choosing to live on higher levels of consciousness…

Like what, for example?

Imagine a room filled with four sets of study partners (which we will call SP1, SP2, SP3, and SP4
respectively), each one learning a different area of Torah. SP1 is learning Chumash with Rashi, and
they are only interested in knowing the simplest explanation of the verses. There may be a lot more
to what the Torah is saying, but for the time being, they aren’t interested in knowing it.

SP2, on the other hand, has decided to learn Mishnah. They too are only interested in learning “Pshat”
— the simplest explanation. However, the terse wording of the Mishnah, as well as what seem to be
certain inconsistencies, has forced them to engage in discussions that take them beyond the simple
words of the teaching. As they do, their discussions become livelier than those of SP1, which is
wondering what all the excitement is about.

Still, their discussions do not compare to those of SP3, which is learning Talmud. The discussion of
their section of learning is not only lively, but it also seems to have put them into a world of their
own. They seem somewhat oblivious to the world around them, as they get up and pace back and
forth, contemplative, and yet full of energy and the need to explain themselves.

However, SP4 is learning Kabbalah. No one seems to notice them because they are learning quietly
and off to themselves. They are not only enthralled by their learning, but they also seem entranced

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by it. Indeed, they seem to be there, and yet, not there. In fact, they seem other-worldy, as the
expressions on their faces seem to indicate.

These are, of course, the four levels of Torah referred to as “Pardes,” a word which means “orchard,”
but which also stands for the four levels of Torah learning: Pshat, Remez, Drush, and Sod, literally:
Simple, Hint, Exegesis, and Secret, or Mikrah, Mishnah, Talmud, and Kabbalah.

There are four levels [of Torah understanding] and the pneumonic is Pardes: Pshat, Remez, Drush,
and Sod. A person needs to toil in all of them to the extent that he can and seek out a teacher to teach
them to him. If a person lacks one of these four levels relative to what he could have achieved then
he will have to reincarnate. (Sha’ar HaGilgulim, Ch. 11)

They are the four levels on which a single Torah concept can be understood, and as one probes from
level to level, he also moves from a lower level of consciousness to a higher one:

The rabbis taught: Four entered Pardes: Ben Azzai, Ben Zoma, Acher, and Rebi Akiva. Rebi Akiva
told them, “When you arrive at the Stones of Pure Marble, don’t say, ‘Water, water,’ because it says,
‘He who speaks falsehood will not be established before My eyes’ (Tehillim 101:7).” Ben Azzai
gazed at the Divine Presence and died, and with respect to him it says, “Difficult in the eyes of God
is the death of His pious ones” (Tehillim 116:15). Ben Zoma gazed and went mad — to him the
following verse may be applied: “Have you found honey? Eat as much as is sufficient for you, so
that you do not consume too much and have to vomit” (Mishlei 25:16). Acher “cut off his plantings”
(i.e., he became a heretic). Rebi Akiva entered in peace and departed in peace. (Chagigah 14b)

As Tosfos explains, their journey had not been a physical one, but rather, an intellectual one, as the
Leshem further explains:

It says in the Zohar HaKodesh further regarding the four who entered Pardes, that it had been their
intention to rectify the sin of Adam HaRishon, as it was said previously: to meditate and ascend from
level to level until the Torah of Atzilus at the root of all Positive and Negative mitzvos. (Sha’arei
Leshem, p. 454)

For, just as there are four levels on which Torah can be learned, there are four levels of consciousness,
and they correspond: Pshat-Asiyah, Remez- Yetzirah, Drush-Beriyah, and Sod-Atzilus. Therefore,
as a person moves from a lower level of Torah understanding to a higher one, he is, in fact, entering
a higher level of consciousness, and coming closer to God. It is a process that begins in the mind,
but one which eventually spreads to the body as well, since the four levels also correspond to the
four lower levels of one’s soul: Pshat-Nefesh, Remez-Ruach, Drush-Neshama, and Sod- Chiyah.

What this essentially means is that, if one only learns Torah on the Pshatlevel, he will only access
the level of Nefesh, which will limit the amount of Godly light that will make it to the level of the
body, also limiting the impact on the body. Elevated he will feel, but not beyond the reality of
everyday life. He will feel holier, but not enough to take him beyond mundane matters.

To learn on the level of Remez is to access the light of Ruach, and to elevate the body significantly
higher. While learning it, the person will remain aware of the world around him, but he will also feel
above it, to some degree. He will feel a greater sense of identification with the material he is learning
than he did when he only learned Chumash.

Learning Talmud, as Talmud is meant to be learned, will draw the mind of the person to the level of
Neshama, which will have a profound impact on the body of the person as well. Though the physical
appearance of a person learning Talmud may not change, he will feel quite different. He will become
more spiritual, which is why many students who previously had difficulty learning Chumash and
Mishnah for long periods of time, can become “hooked” on the learning of Talmud.

It is also one of the reasons why entry into the world of Talmud can be so difficult for many, even
after they have learned Aramaic, the language of the Talmud. It is not merely a matter of simply
opening a larger and longer book than that of Mishnah. It is a matter of going to a higher level of
consciousness to relate to the words inside, which can be read by just about anyone, but which are
related to only by those who make the jump to the level of Neshama.

If this is true of the level of Talmud-Neshama, then it is even truer about the level of Sod-Chiyah.
The leap from the first level of learning to the second level, or from the second level of learning to
the third one, is not nearly as great as the quantum leap from the third level of Drush to that of Sod.
To make such a leap is to never turn back again, for on the level of Sod, one is so close to God (as
much as possible in this world), that it would be tantamount to spiritual suicide to do so.

Again, this is only true if the person learning Sod is doing far more than simply reading the words
and repeating them as they appear. On each level, the body must line up with the light that is coming
to it, or the Torah will not have its desired impact. Sod is the level of Neshama, an extremely high
level of Ohr Ain Sof, and if the body is not a fitting container for such a holy level of light, it won’t
even try to enter it.

In essence, this is what Rosh Hashanah evaluates, and this is the basis of the teshuva we are expected
to do. On Rosh Hashanah, the question is: did we reach the level of consciousness that we were
capable of achieving? And if yes, did we work to maintain it? The evidence to answer these questions
is, for the most part, how we spent our time and resources the previous year, and what we hope to
achieve in the upcoming year, and the rest of our lives, for that matter.

Therefore, when the Torah admonishes us to choose life, it is really telling us to choose higher levels
of consciousness, whenever it is possible to do so. For, to live on a lesser level of consciousness than
we are capable of is a level or death, one that can even result in physical death, either as afunction
of Divine response to our waste of life, or, as a result of our lack of ability to rise to a level of
consciousness that affords us a clearer picture of the hand of God, and where history is heading.

This discussion becomes especially pertinent in our present generation, for the Arizal has revealed:
Since these ten colleagues [of Rebi Shimon bar Yochai’s time] … are from the level of the
Chassadim of the Upper Zivug [in the Sefiros] … that is Yisroel with Rachel, all the secrets of Torah
were revealed and explained to them without any suffering. This will not occur again until the
Generation of Moshiach as mentioned in the Zohar in many places. (Sha’ar HaGilgulim, p. 26)
If you want to know what all these terms mean, you’ll have to start studying Kabbalah.

However, in the meantime, on a simple level, it means that the generation in advance of Moshiach’s
arrival will have an easier time accessing higher levels of light and consciousness than previous
generations. And, as we have already seen, this not something that is optional, but obligatory, and
something, history has proven, that can only enhance one’s quality of life and his closeness to God.
 Josh Baum, artist

The Pardes
Rabbi Jack Abramowitz writes:10

RAMBAM

Yesodei HaTorah 4:12

When a person contemplates these matters and comes to recognize the creations, the angels, the
spheres, man, etc., causing him to appreciate God's wisdom, it will increase his love for God. This
will cause both his soul and his flesh to long for God with love. He will then stand in awe when
comparing our lowly and humble selves to the majestic and holy bodies, let alone to the pure forms
that have no connection to physical matter. This person will then see himself as a vessel full of
shame, empty of merit.

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Yesodei HaTorah 4:13

The subjects discussed in these past four chapters concern five mitzvos that the Sages called "the
Pardes" (the orchard) as in "Four people entered the Pardes..." (Chagigah 14b). Even though these
four people were all great scholars and leaders of Israel, they did not all possess the capacity to fully
comprehend these matters. The Rambam tells us that it is not appropriate for a person to "stroll in
the Pardes" until he has "filled his belly with bread and meat." This refers to acquiring knowledge
of what is permitted and what is prohibited, as well as other details of the mitzvos. The Sages referred
to this as "a small matter," saying that Maaseh Merkava is "a great matter" and the debates of Abaye
and Rava are "a small matter." Nevertheless, it is appropriate for a person to master these "smaller"
subjects first, as they provide a person with intellectual grounding. They are also the great gift that
God gave to facilitate stability in this world and the ability to obtain life in the Next World. They
can be fully understood by both great people and humble people, men, and women, of varying
intellectual capabilities.
David Kolinsky writes:11

For the past six months, I have been writing blogs to coincide with holidays and select topics found
in the parshah of the week. Each has explored how Biblical Hebrew metaphor informs an allegorical
reading of the Torah. The work is based on over twenty years of daily Torah study which led to my
writing an etymological dictionary of Biblical Hebrew in its Semitic context. Although the blogs
have been received well by the few who have read them, a number of religiously observant readers
have asked for evidence from the Talmud that such an allegorical reading was recognized by
ChaZaL, an acronym meaning “our sages, their memory will be regarded as a blessing.” Although I
can demonstrate a similar use of Hebrew metaphor in particular passages in the Talmud, such
assertions hardly constitute proof. That a proof is necessary can be seen from this quote in the
Wikipedia entry regarding Chazal’s authority: “…Chazal had the authority to comment on the Torah
according to the Talmudical hermeneutics standards required by the Halakhah le-Moshe mi-Sinai
(The unwritten laws believed to have been given to Moses at Sinai), sometimes even expounding a
word or phrase outside its plain and ordinary sense. Nowadays in Orthodoxy, this authority is not
delegated to the current generation’s sages, and thus the Torah cannot be commentated on, in matters
concerning the halakha (“tradition”) if it contradicts Chazal’s commentary.“

A Chiddush (‫ )חידוש‬is a novel interpretation of Torah. In medieval times, Ramban indicated that it is
an “obligation imposed upon us to search through the subjects of the Torah and the precepts and
bring to light their hidden contents.” Despite this sentiment expressed by one of the greatest Rabbis
in Jewish history, a chiddush of Torah is expected to remain within certain confines and limits of
acceptable Torah interpretation. Furthermore, it is generally accepted that any novel understanding
of Torah would come from a recognized Torah authority. In the case of my work, neither of the
above are true. My Torah allegory is far afield from what is usual or accepted and although I have
studied Biblical Hebrew and Torah for two decades, my study has been independent and solitary.
Although the story of my venturing into and discovering this chiddush is long and interesting, it is
not particularly enlightening or helpful in explaining how I came to this labor of love that engages
me for hours each day. Neither self-aggrandizement nor self-adulation motivate this work. Through
diligent study, I stumbled into and fumbled through this allegory, vigilantly laboring over it to
understand its secrets.

In their book The Metaphors We Live By, Lakoff and Johnson demonstrate how language utilizes
metaphor to expand simple concepts into concepts of larger complexity. For example, the Hebrew
root \aQaBh (‫ )עקב‬literally means “to twist around.” Of course, in our life experiences there are many
things that are either twisted around or actions that involve twisting or that might be perceived as a
twisting or twisted. Derived from this root are words such \aQuBh twisted around; \aQaBaH cunning;
\aeQeBh consequence / reward; \aaQaeBh ambush party, heel, and footstep; and \aQoBh curvy or
steep. From this simple idea of “twisting around” are derived Semitic verbs meaning “to twist, to
constrain, to follow, to trace, to succeed, draw near, to seek out, to investigate, and to review
critically.” From the word heel is derived the verb meaning “to supplant;” the Hebrew literally means
“to grab the heel” while the English literally means “to grab the plantar aspect of the foot.” Simply
put, all words are metaphor, words of greater complexity and the ideas or objects that they represent
are built upon a simpler framework.

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Jewish belief attests to four levels of Torah exegesis. They are represented by using the word for
orchard as the acronym PaRDaeS – Pashat: a literal reading of the text; Remez: representing what is
hinted at by the text; D’rash: ways of expounding upon the text; and Sod: hidden secrets to be
revealed about the text. Many believe that the sod of Torah can be found in the Zohar, Qabbalah and
gematria. My work utilizes the metaphor of Hebrew and Semitic words to deduce another
interpretation of Torah. I cannot and will not assert in which of the three deeper levels of exegesis
my allegorical interpretation belongs. In order to do my translation, I needed to understand two
components of each and every Hebrew root in the Torah. First, I utilized dictionaries of Biblical
Hebrew, Ugaritic, Syriac, Arabic, Akkadian, Sabaic and Amharic to find the range of meanings for
a particular root. Then utilizing a theory that Semitic triliteral roots evolved from biliteral roots and
utilizing sound correspondences between different consonants, I formulated a theory that enabled
me to determine the essential meaning of each root. I then compiled an etymological dictionary of
Biblical Hebrew. To determine the allegorical meaning of the text, I replaced each word in the text
with its root’s essential meaning and the numerous other meanings informed by the other Semitic
languages. I then spent more than a decade writing and rewriting the text so that there was internal
consistency within sentences and between sentences, paragraphs, chapters, and books.

In all of the Babylonian Talmud, there is only one mention of the word PaRDaeS that refers to the
Rabbinic tradition of Biblical exegesis. It states, “Four entered into the PaRDaeS – the orchard (of
Torah).” From our daf:

‫א‬

The above paragraph can be translated metaphorically in its entirety, names, and all. However, based
on my two decades of perusing the Talmud, there are not many full paragraphs that can be translated
that way. Instead, isolated words and phrases that can be understood metaphorically are found
peppered throughout the Talmud. As an example, many are aware of the story that relates when
Hillel and Shammai were separately approached by a foreigner who said, “Convert me upon the
condition that you teach me all of the Torah, all of it, while I am standing on one foot.” Hillel’s
answer, “That which to you is hateful, do not do to your friend,” understands the question
metaphorically.

One potential metaphorical understanding of the word for foot, regel (‫)רגל‬, can be “habit.” So even
though literally he wants to be taught the entirety of Torah while standing of one foot, Hillel’s answer
understands that metaphorically, he is asking for one behavior or one habit that encompasses the
entire Torah. On the face of it, Shammai’s response seems to be an expression of anger only. For it
says, “He pushed him out with the cubit of construction (‫ )אמת בנין‬that was in his hand.” However,
metaphorically the Hebrew word for cubit, /aMaH, literally means “what is ever present.”1 Also the
word binyan (‫ )בנין‬can mean building, construction, or structure. So Shammai goes after the man
with what was ever present of the structure of the Torah. In other words, Shammai also understood
the question metaphorically, but he would have none of it, and metaphorically threw the entire
structure of Torah at him.

Let us now consider the names of the four who entered into the four levels of Torah exegesis.
Metaphorically, the names represent different human characteristics or archetypes. Ben Azzai ( ‫בן‬
‫ )עזאי‬represents a person possessed of strength, from the root (‫ )עז‬meaning strong. Ben Zoma (‫)בן זומא‬
represents a person who cuts off or cuts short the flow of information; from the root (‫)זמה‬. Although,
the word /achaer (‫ )אחר‬is appropriately translated as “another,” it actually has the same literal
meaning as the verb from which it derives. The verb /aChaR (‫ )אחר‬literally and primarily means “to
be behind” and secondarily “to be slow or delayed.” The word /achaer (‫ )אחר‬means “another”
because the other is behind the first. On the peshat level of our story, /achaer (‫ )אחר‬is thought to be
Elisha b. Abuyah, renamed after his apostasy. As an archetype, /achaer (‫ )אחר‬represents a person
who is intellectually slow. Rabbi Aqiba’s name comes from the root \aQaBh (‫ )עקב‬discussed above.
The name is similar to Yaaqov.

Both metaphorically represent a person who intellectually follows an idea closely and investigates.
Through the metaphorical meaning of their names, the four who entered into the four levels of Torah
represent four intellectual archetypes that approach new, profound and complex information in
different ways: one intellectually strong enough to take in all the information (Ben Azzai); one of
reasonable intellectual capacity, but not necessarily enough to fully embrace the information (Ben
Zoma); one who is intellectually deficient and delayed (Achaer); and one whose intellectual capacity
enables him not only to embrace the information fully, but also follow it and investigate it further
(Aqiba). The subtle differences between the archetypes of Ben Azzai and Aqiba will become more
apparent as we delve further into the text. Next, let us examine Rabbi Aqiba’s admonition to his
associates:

The phrase “stones of pure marble” represents the aspects of Torah sticking out most prominently of
what is confoundingly complex, yet whose presentation is perfectly clear. The word for stone
(/eBheN – ‫ )אבן‬comes from the Semitic root BoowN (‫ )בון‬which literally means “to bulge or push
between.” So the Hebrew word for stone (/eBheN – ‫ )אבן‬means “what bulges or sticks out
prominently (from the ground).” The word for marble (ShaeSh – ‫ )שש‬comes from a Semitic root
(ShooWSh – ‫ )שוש‬that literally means “what looms overhead.” In Syriac, this root also means to
disorder and confuse, but in Arabic it means “confounding and complicated.” Lastly, the word tahor
(‫ )טהור‬means pure, clear, or perfect. Aqiba’s admonishment to not say “water, water” is a warning to
not ask for more and more of it, as one thirsts for water. The Hebrew word for water, mayim, literally
means “what is stirred up” derived from the verb HaMaH (‫)המה‬, to stir up. In other words, when
confronting something so confoundingly complex as the allegory of Torah, do not lie and ask for
more and more of what is already tremendously intellectually stirring.
The text says of Ben Azzai, the one who was strong, that “he strove to see and died.” In Hebrew, the
metaphor of death is actually not as dire as it may appear. The root MowT (‫ )מות‬literally means to
completely drawn out or away. Metaphorically, death represents a complete manifestation or
drawing out of something into reality. The following two related roots help to demonstrate this. The
Hebrew word for when, MaTai (‫ )מתי‬literally means “what point drawn out in time.” Similarly, the
root MaTaQ (‫ )מתק‬means to savor or literally “to temporally draw something out in the mouth.” So
when the text says that Ben Azzai died, metaphorically it is saying that he was completely drawn out
into the complexities of Torah. After all, his name proves him to have been strong. As a compliment
to him the text says, “Precious in the eyes of haShem is the death (complete drawing out into
experience), regarding those who consider him.” Where the word CheSeD (‫ )חסד‬meaning “one who
is considerate or kind,” metaphorically means “one who considers.”2

Regarding Ben Zoma, the one who cuts back or cuts short, the text says that “he strove to see and
became distressed in being taken unawares.” Here the Torah is referred to as honey (DaBhaSh –
‫ )דבש‬which literally means “that which flows copiously and thickly.” He is told to eat or encompass
what is adequate or sufficient for him. For if he were to take in too much, he would need to vomit it
up. Although his name Zoma could mean either cut back or refute, the statement about him suggests
more that he is of limited intellectual capacity rather, than rejecting the information.

Achaer, who was mentally slow or delayed, was cutting at the plants. The meaning of this seems
rather simple. If the orchard, the PaRDaeS, represents the four levels of Torah exegesis, then cutting
at the plants within the orchard is a symbol of rejecting either Torah in its entirety or at least the
deeper three levels that exist beyond the pashat. However, the Arabic cognate of the word used for
plants (N’Ty\a – ‫ )נטיעה‬also means “to be meticulous, to be fastidious, to go into something deeply,
and to explain something.” Based on this cognate, it is the deeper aspects of Torah exegesis that his
mind is unable to handle.

Finally, Rabbi Aqiba, the one who follows an idea closely and investigates, was going out in peace.
Presumably not only because the vastness and complexity of Torah that he encountered was not
disturbing to him, but also because such knowledge put him at ease and made him feel complete.
The difference between the archetype represented by Rabbi Aqiba and that of Ben Azzai is subtle.
Both are fully able to embrace the intensity of Torah. It says of Ben Azzai “precious in the eyes of
haShem.” the word for precious, Y’QaR (‫)יקר‬, literally means “(a jewel) that is gotten into very
closely” which alludes to the action required to gouge or pick it out, NaQaR (‫)נקר‬, from the rock in
which it is embedded. Allegorically, this tells us that he was able to excavate and delve into the
details of Torah. However, Rabbi Aqiba’s name suggests that not only could he delve deeply into
the details, but that he was also able to follow the trail of those details no matter which way they
might twist and turn. Furthermore, because \aeQeBh (‫ )עקב‬also means consequence, his name
suggests that he was able to understand the real-world consequences of the PaRDaeS, Torah
exegesis.

Our four archetypes describe the different capacities of those who engage in Torah study.
Specifically it assumes that the study of Torah is not merely a study of the simple reading of Torah,
the pashat, but also includes engaging with the three deeper levels of Torah exegesis as well. The
main point of this story is to convey the limits of individuals. Unfortunately, not everyone is able or
perhaps willing to accept that Torah can and should be understood in this way. What we find there
depends not only on our intellectual capacity, but also on our perspective and the extent of our
openness to explore and see the Torah anew. It is not an exploration that is comfortable. It challenges
the foundation of one’s belief system and rattles both the mind and spirit. It brings into question both
the faith upon which many individuals rely and also lays the groundwork for a new faith, a faith of
unfathomable dimensions. Not every mind is ready to be thrust into the questions and doubt nor the
complexities and confusion that will unfold when upon this journey. Some will reject it outright, turn
away and never look back. Still others might find ourselves, like our ancestors before us, at QaDaeSh
BarNae\a (‫“ )קדש ברנע‬dedicated to move forward by clearing away restraint.”3

1 – The unattested root /uM (‫ )אום‬literally means “what is ever present.” Therefore, the word /aeM
mother literally means “one who is ever present,” the word /aYaM (‫ )אים‬foreboding literally means
“an ever-present feeling,” and m’/uMaH (‫ )מאומה‬something literally means “a thing of that is ever
present.”

2 – So what is the essential meaning of this root ChaSaD (‫ )חסד‬that gives such disparate meanings
as taunt, envy, kind, shameful indulgence, and loyalty? In order to unravel this discordance of
meanings, we need to peel back a few layers of the etymological onion. The root ChaSaD (‫)חסד‬
evolved from the verb ChooS (‫ )חוס‬which when associated with the preposition \aL (‫ )על‬means to
show concern / shower consideration upon. However, when joined with the preposition b’ (‫)ב‬, it
means to have trust in or rely upon. The word ChooS (‫ )חוס‬evolved from the root ChooSh (‫)חוש‬
which has an essential meaning of to spend time with or persist with someone or something by
experiencing, sensing, feeling, or considering.

3 – QaDaeSh BarNae\a (‫)קדש ברנע‬. The piel of QaDaSh literally means to dedicate to move forward,
hence it is commonly used to mean both to sanctify something or commit to move it into a more
forward, holier position, and to betroth.

Most of the roots with BaR (‫ )בר‬literally mean to make a clearing, to clear away, or to go clear
through, hence ‫( בור‬clearing > pit), ‫( באר‬clearing > well, to clearly elucidate), ‫( בער‬to clear away >
clear a field, burn), ‫( ברר‬to clear away > sift), ‫( ברא‬to clear away > to sculpt, create, carve, cut down),
‫( ברח‬to go clear through > escape, bar), ‫( ברך‬to go clear through > to excel, be / declare excellent; to
make a clearing > kneel, pool), ‫( ברק‬to go clear through > lightening). The root NW\ (‫ )נוע‬means to
sift, but secondarily to restrain, hence the verbs derived from it ‫ נעל‬to lock, ‫ נעם‬be precious (held
back) and ‫ מנע‬to restrain.

The full metaphorical translation of PaRDaeS:

The great one who follows closely and investigates said to them: “When you are arriving at the
periphery of the things prominently sticking out of that which is complicated (regarding the study of
Torah), that which is of perfect clarity; preclude from saying, “(Give me…) that which is
tumultuously stirred up, that which is stirred up (regarding the study of Torah)!” Because of that
which is said, “One who speaks falsehoods shall not stand firmly, regarded as a person drawn off in
eyeing-observing me.”

The one who was strong strove to see and was completely drawn out (into the experience). – About
him scripture says, “Getting in close through the eyeings-observations of haShem is the being drawn
out into experience completely, regarding those who consider him.” The one who cuts back strove
to see and was distressed and afflicted. – About him scripture says, “Have you found (in the study
of Torah) that which rushes outward – thickly and copiously? Embrace only enough for you, lest
you be over-filled by it and vomit it up.” The one who was slow of mind was cutting down the
meticulous and drawn-out explanations.

https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Chazal#Chazal’s_authority

https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Chidush#cite_note-E.Jud72-10

Francis Brown, S.R.Driver, Charles A. Briggs (1906 /2000) The Brown-Driver-Briggs Hebrew and English Lexicon. Peabody,
Massachusetts: Hendrickson Publishers, Inc.

Ernest Klein (1987) A Comprehensive Etymological Dictionary of the Hebrew Language for Readers of English. New York:
Macmillan Publishing Company

Hans Wehr. Ed by J Milton Cowan (1979) Hans Wehr A Dictionary of Modern Written Arabic. Ithaca, NY: Published in the United
States by Spoken Languages Services, Inc with permission of Otto Harrassowitz

Jeremy Black, Andrew George, Nicholas Postgate, eds., A Concise Dictionary ofAkkadian, 2nd corrected printing (Santag Arbeiten
und Untersuchungen Zur Keilschriftkunde, 5; Wiesbaden: Harrassowitz Verlag, 2000)

Marcus Jastrow (1996) A Dictionary of the Targumim, the Talmud Babli and Yerushlami, and the Midrashic Literature.New York:
The Judaica Press

J. Payne Smith’s (1999) A Compendious Syriac Dictionary. Published by Wipf and Stock

David Kantrowitz (1991 – 2009) Judaic Classics version 3.4. Institute for Computers in Jewish Life, Davka Corp., and/or Judaica
Press, Inc.
 Four Entered Paradise Revisited
Alon Goshen Gottstein writes:12

12
http://www.ma.huji.ac.il/~kazhdan/Shneider/barilan2012/kabbalah/Goshen-Gottstein.pdf
The Hebrew word ‫( ַפּ ְרֵדּס‬pardes 'orchard') is of Persian origin (cf Avestan) and
appears several times in the Bible. The same Old Persian root is the source of the
word paradise via Latin paradisus and Greek παράδεισος, which were used for
‫'פרדס‬s Biblical Hebrew equivalent ‫גן‬, Garden, in early Bible translations.
 Albert Huthusen

Pardes Lost

Prof Eliezer Segal writes:13

An unusual and enigmatic passage in the Mishnah lists several topics that were classified as
Top Secret in that they were not to be discussed or taught openly. These subjects include “the account
of the beginning” and “the account of the chariot.” The former presumably involves interpretations
of the biblical creation story; whereas the latter deals with the bizarre vision described by the prophet
Ezekiel of a chariot composed of and drawn by supernatural beings and bearing a royal throne. The
ancient sages were so scrupulous about not publicizing these matters that we now know virtually
nothing about them. Nevertheless, the Talmud preserves stories about the impressive supernatural
pyrotechnics that occurred when prominent rabbis discoursed about the mystical chariot.

In order to demonstrate the need for secrecy, the rabbis told a story of four sages from the
early second century who pursued this esoteric lore. All but one came to unfortunate ends. Their
fates were described in a famous parable: “Four entered the orchard— ...Ben Azzai peeked and

13
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died... Ben Zoma peeked and was maimed... ‘The Other’ peeked and cut the plants... Rabbi Akiva
ascended safely and descended peacefully.”

In some traditions, the imagery is explained in greater detail: ”To what may this matter be
compared? To a royal orchard that had an upper balcony. A person is permitted to peek at it as long
as he does not stare at it for a long time.” Indeed, the Mishnah and other early texts seem to be
worried principally about the prospect of people overindulging their desires to gawk too familiarly
at the sublime spectacle that is designated for royalty.

Thus, the endeavours of the four rabbis who contemplated the “account of the chariot” were
depicted metaphorically as attempts to sneak an illicit peek at a garden that was restricted for the
exclusive enjoyment of the king. In keeping with the usual convention in such parables, the king
represents the Almighty. Accordingly, for mortals to claim unobstructed access to the celestial
throne-room and the angelic chariot was condemned as inappropriate lèse-majesté toward the divine.
The same Mishnah that prohibited open teaching of the account of the chariot went on to admonish:
“whoever is not sensitive to the honour of his Creator, it would have been better for him if he had
never come into this world.”

According to this imagery, each of the four rabbis tried to steal into the walled royal park via
the gallery. Two of them came to harm in the course of scaling the wall, one fatally. “The Other”—
the infamous heretic Elisha ben Abuya—succeeded in gaining entry to the garden, and he set about
vandalizing the trees. As we learn from other accounts in the Talmud, Elisha’s undisciplined
contemplation of spiritual mysteries led him to become a heretic and a traitor to his people. In
contrast to the other three sages who trespassed into the walled garden with the intention of beholding
and admiring its flora, Elisha’s motives were malicious. By destroying the proverbial plants, he left
the garden unprotected to the glare of the sun. This is probably a metaphoric allusion to his revealing
mysteries that were supposed to remain “shaded” in respectful secrecy. Rabbi Akiva was the only
one of the four who emerged unscathed from his respectful visit to the royal orchard.

Allowing for the obscurity of the subject matter, the parable of the orchard comes across as
fairly straightforward. However, later commentators introduced additional complication and
mystification.

At the root of the matter is the Hebrew word for orchard or vineyard: “pardes.” This is a very
commonplace term in rabbinic usage; its meaning is plain, and it has no mystical or supernatural
connotations. Quite the contrary, rabbinic literature routinely introduced a pardes into parables that
were intended to illustrate how well humans are performing their duties for the Master of the
Universe. For these purposes, the Talmud and Midrash (like Christian texts that were produced in
similar cultural settings) often employed the metaphor of “labourers in a vineyard” or in an orchard.
These parables often specified the diverse tasks that were assigned to the “gardeners” or the criteria
according to which their work was rewarded—and several of them made mention of a tower or
balcony from which the king kept a vigilant eye on his employees.

Later commentators, however, were alert to the resemblance between the Hebrew “pardes”
and the similar-sounding word “paradise” and its cognates in other languages. Indeed, both terms do
likely originate in the old Persian “pairidaeza” connoting a walled park. Thus, Rav Hai Ga’on
explained that the rabbinic pardes was referring to the garden of Eden: just as the original garden
was hidden away after Adam and Eve sinned, so too, this paradise was a hidden celestial locale that
houses the souls of the righteous. Through the mediation of prominent medieval commentators such
as Rabbis Ḥananel of Kairowan, Nathan ben Jehiel of Rome and Rashi, this interpretation became
the dominant one, and the original metaphor of an orchard or park was all but forgotten.
 These commentators described how the four ancient rabbis employed secret divine names in
order to ascend to the celestial paradise. Indeed, a similar procedure had been cultivated by schools
of medieval Jewish mystics who described their spiritual journeys as ascents through multiple levels
of palaces; the entry at each level was guarded by menacing angels who demanded to be shown a
“seal” consisting of holy names. It was not always clear whether the ascent to paradise was being
presented as an actual event, or as a psychological experience that took place within the soul of the
mystic.

The evolution of the “pardes” image reached an intriguing new phase toward the end of the
thirteenth century when Rabbi Moses de Leon, the author of the Zohar, began to use the four-letter
Hebrew word as an acronym for four different modes of Jewish scriptural exposition: P’shaṭ
(literal), Remez (allegorical), D’rash (rabbinic midrash), and Sod (esoteric). This usage was
subsequently popularized by an anonymous kabbalist whose works were incorporated into the
standard editions of the Zohar, and from there it has become a mainstay of Jewish exegetical theory.

De Leon did preserve some of the original botanical associations when he likened the deeper
meanings of the Torah to a nut whose edible kernel is wrapped in multiple layers of shell. Some
other authors, such as Rabbi Baḥya ben Asher, applied the “Remez” epithet to philosophical
allegories.

Scholars have noted the remarkable resemblance between the fourfold Jewish “PaRDeS”
scheme and a system that had been formulated earlier by medieval Christian authors. The Christian
classification consisted of: History, Allegory, Tropology or Typology (moral homilies) and Anagogy
(interpretations related related to the end times).

While it is easy to understand how such a framework could have evolved independently out
of the native traditions of Hebrew scriptural interpretation, it is unlikely that medieval Jewish
scholars would have been entirely oblivious to the Christian version that was enjoying much
popularity at that time, especially in Spain.

The original foray of the four sages into the enigmatic pardes;had by now undergone
substantial transformations—beginning as a furtive break-in into a walled orchard, changing into a
metaphysical ascent to a celestial paradise, and on to its later incarnation as an abstract scholarly
acronym.

And so, the tangled branches of this story, so deeply rooted in the rich soil of Jewish tradition,
continue to bring forth a tasty assortment of symbolic fruit for the mind and spirit.
 Hallucinating oneself into Paradise

The Four Who Entered Paradise

Matthew Kressel writes:14

The scriptures speak of four sages who entered Paradise. They were Ben Azzai, Ben Zoma, Acher,

and Rabbi Akiba. They used poses of their bodies, chanted the names of God, and ritually purified

themselves in baths to ascend to heaven. Before reaching Paradise, Rabbi Akiba warned them,

“When you come to the place of pure marble stones, do not say, ‘Water! Water!’ for it is said, ‘He

who speaks untruths shall not stand before My eyes.’ Upon reaching Paradise, Ben Azzai looked

directly at the Shekhinah, the Divine Presence, and died. Ben Zoma looked and went mad. Acher cut

down all the plants. Only Rabbi Akiba came and went in peace.

How did Ben Azzai die? Upon seeing the ineffable beauty of the celestial palace, he knew his soul

had come home at last, and so he chose to remain in Paradise with God.

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How Did Ben Zoma go mad? He saw that the distance between the upper and lower waters, the

separation of the firmament, are but three finger-breadths.

Why did Acher cut down the plants? When he reached the heavenly throne he saw the angel Metatron

seated upon it. Acher cried out, “There are two gods in heaven!” For not correcting Acher’s error,

God commanded that Metatron be lashed sixty times with a fiery whip.

How did Rabbi Akiba survive the journey? When he ascended to heaven, he left behind signs to find

his way back. He arrived at the Pargod, the celestial curtain, and an angel of destruction came out to

injure him. But God called out, “Leave this one alone. He may gaze at my glory.” And in the full

light of heaven, Rabbi Avikah learned God’s secret and holy Name.

The Myth’s Origins

The story of the four sages who entered the Pardes, Garden or Paradise, is one of the most popular

of Jewish mystical tales and it served as both a warning to those wishing to peer too closely at divine

mysteries, and an example for those wishing to probe more deeply into contemplation and heavenly

ascent.

The story finds its origins in the Talmud, Chagigah 14b, which tells the story of the four men, quoted

in the first paragraph above. The commentary beside the Talmudic texts states that Ben Azzai saw

the Divine Presence and died. Why does viewing the Divine Presence have such a fatal effect?

Exodus 33:20 explains, “‘Thou canst not see My face, for man shall not see Me and live.”

Of Ben Zoma’s madness, the Talmud says, “Of him Scripture says: Hast thou found honey? Eat so

much as is sufficient for thee, lest thou be filled therewith, and vomit it.” This implies that Zoma

saw too much of the Divine Presence — overfed himself with too much honey — and lost his sanity.

Acher’s pruning of all the plants or “cutting the shoots” refers to his apostasy. After his vision, he

became a heretic, and cut himself off from his religion and his beliefs.

Rabbi Akiba was seen as one of the wisest and holiest of sages, and thus only he was permitted into

the highest chamber of heaven to hear God’s holy Name.

Some Thoughts on the Myth

Here we see clear evidence of Eastern mysticism seeping its way into Judaism. By the nature of

chanting, very specific yoga-like poses, ritual purification, and other methods, these holy men

attempted to glimpse divine secrets. This is not unlike the ascetic practices of some Hindu and

Buddhist traditions, and it’s likely that there was some exchange of ideas. There are many

interpretations of the story of the four who entered Paradise, but if you look closely at this myth it

seems to parallel a lot of modern mystical experiences people have with hallucinogens like

psilocybin, mescaline, and LSD.

While these hallucinogens are rarely fatal on their own, they have led people to do stupid things that

resulted in death (like Ben Azzai). Certainly, having a “bad trip” on LSD or similar could lead to

psychosis, temporary or permanent (as in Ben Zoma). And an experience on these hallucinogens

might cause one to see the world in a new light, because of one’s altered perceptions, and change his

world view permanently (like Acher). Lastly, those who might have been more spiritually inclined

would see, in their hallucinogenic experience, a widening, loving, divine presence (like Rabbi Akiba)

that some have recounted.

I’m not saying that these sages took hallucinogens (though that is indeed possible), only that they

were actively seeking mystical experiences. This is quite similar to modern psychonauts who use

entheogens (hallucinogenic substances) to seek altered and sometimes high spiritual states. Those

not psychologically prepared could harm themselves gravely. The 1960s U.S. drug subculture is a

perfect example of people diving headfirst into hallucinogenic drug experimentation, and a lot of

harm resulted from this. Read the endnotes of Philp K. Dick’s A Scanner Darkly to see how many

of his friends died or lost their minds. Not all of those who did (or do) hallucinogens were looking

for spiritual revelation, but with powerful hallucinogens we often don’t have a choice. The numinous

nature of the world breaks through, as in Huxley’s The Doors of Perception, from which the rock

group The Doors got their name.

A big clue for me is Ben Zoma’s cryptic statment that “the distance between the upper and lower

waters, the separation of the firmament, are but three finger-breadths.” Here the waters refer to the
earth (lower) and heaven (upper). That they are only three finger-breadths implies that they are so

close they nearly touch. Since the heavenly realms are not physical, but mental states (my read),

Zoma realizes that it is only his psychological state that prevents him from being in heaven all the

time. The normal states of consciousness and the elevated states are so close they nearly touch, and

he can switch from one to another much more easily than he imagined. This reminds me of those

who suffer from LSD “flashbacks,” those who are unable to will themselves back into their normal

states of consciousness.

I think what each man saw reflected his own inner state. The secrets revealed were internal ones.

The barriers they faced, psychological. There is no mention of them physically traveling anywhere.

Theirs was a journey through spiritual realms, through their layers of consciousness. While this type

of internal introspection — to the point of actually trying to alter mental states — is the center of

many traditions, like Buddhism, I’m sad to see it hasn’t taken a more central role in Judaism.

Obviously we all shouldn’t “tune in and drop out,” but I think there is something to be said

for examining the layers of consciousness in a methodical, rather than haphazard

manner. Regardless, I find it interesting to read this account of the mystical ascent to heaven of these

three ancient sages.

Art by Sefira Lightstone.

 Four Rabbis Entered Paradise

Rabbi Dr Andrew Goldstein writes:15

At the highly successful Biennial Conference of Liberal Judaism in July, at which I was delighted to
see a number of Edinburgh members present, I was originally down to co-lead a session
entitled: ‘The epikouros and the believer.’ It was to be based on two well-known Talmudic
personalities of the early second century CE Elisha ben Abuyah and his pupil Rabbi Meir. Elisha
was known as Acher, the ‘Other One’, because of his heretical views, whereas Meir was a pillar of
the rabbinic establishment. The organisers saw us typecast I was due to take the part of Rabbi Meir
and Rabbi David Goldberg the heretic Acher. Very sadly David became very ill and so could not
come to the conference and the title was changed to something much more anodyne. But ever since
I have been thinking of Elisha ben Abuya… Acher and invite him to this Kol Nidrei service.

It says in the Talmud: “Four men entered pardes, namely, Ben Azai, Ben Zoma, Acher, and Rabbi
Akiva. Ben Azai glimpsed and died. Ben Zoma glimpsed and went mad. Acher cut down the plants.
Only Rabbi Akiva entered and came out in peace”. (bHag14b)

Various explanations for pardes or Paradise, mostly deciding it referred to intense mystical
investigation. And for the rabbis such stuff was indeed dangerous, and they tried to limit those who
tried to get into true Kabbalah. Only Rabbi Akiva was mature and grounded enough to cope.

But what if it was Paradise… meaning that the four tried to envision the perfect world and then were
forced to compare it with the world in which they lived. And this examination proved a great trial of
their religious faith. In many ways their world had many of the challenges of ours today.

The four were friends and colleagues, teachers, and pupils of each other, born sometime around the
destruction of the Temple in 70 CE. Living in the difficult years that followed this catastrophe. An
age of confusion for the Jew. A veneer of high culture – of the Roman world, life going on, theatres,
stadia, new buildings, fashions – yet always in the background gross inequality and barbarism. For
the thinking Jew a time of the sweeping away of all certainties. The Temple, the Holy of Holies,
God’s very house was in ruins. Religious practice confused. Could one still believe in a God who let
his house be destroyed, let countless men, women and children be slaughtered? Did this invisible
God- Yahweh – actually exist – If He listened to His people’s prayers, why did God not respond and
save them?

Think of their time; think of ours. Many Jews just gave up their Jewish adherence to the Jewish
religion… what was the point and anyway it was dangerous, better to opt out, seek a low profile.
Many assimilated into Roman culture, anyway it seemed more appealing.

Changed their names, taught their children Greek not Hebrew. Why waste time on Torah when there
was so much else to learn in school. The priests no longer had power, many of the rabbis only
absorbed by trying to preserve the old way of life. Many Jews were seeking new paths that seemed

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to explain the destruction…and if not at least a hope of salvation in the world to come through this
guy everybody was talking about – Jesus of Nazareth. And how was the Jewish community
responding… as usual… by internal squabbling and schism: Sadducees, Pharisees, Essenes,
Cutheans, Samaritans, Gnostics, Zealots. So many groups, left wing zealots, right wing religious
nationalists…each supping some of the potential vitality from the whole.

Back to the famous four. Ben Azai… full name: Shimon the son of Azai was the youngest of the
four, known for his piety and enthusiasm, but when the reality of the real world dawned his
enthusiasm died, and he opted out I’ve known a few congregants like that. One year running
everything, then drifting away. Never seen again except on Yom Kippur and in time not even then.
That’s how it was with Ben Azai.

“Ben Zoma saw and went mad”. The Hebrew could also mean… “became confused”. He was a fine
student but when he saw the troubles of his time he could no longer believe in the God he was taught.
Maybe there was no God, or…well what to believe anymore. He didn’t leave, stayed, puzzling, but
not with any enthusiasm. He said little, though he did leave us with just one wise saying: “Eyzeh hu
chacham… who is wise, one who learns from everybody; who is strong – one who shows self-
control; who is rich – one who is content with his or her lot; who is respected – one who respects
others.” Not bad.

Rabbi Akiva… the real hero…born in poverty, didn’t start learning till he was 40. A man of great
tolerance and understanding, setting the pattern for a liberal interpretation of Jewish law. He
maintained that the study of Torah was all important, especially in those troubled times… He was a
great scholar, but not locked in an ivory tower, a key supporter of Bar Kochba and the armed revolt
against the Romans, arrested for it, dying a terrible death, his flesh combed off him with iron
combs… his dying words… the Shema – “all my life I have tried to understand… love God with all
your soul”, now I know – even if He takes it from you.”

And Acher… Elisha ben Abuya had wealthy parents, but his mother died when he was 2 days old.
Still given the best education money could buy… Hebrew and Greek studies. But he became a
symbol of the pain of the world: denied his mother’s love and weaned on his father’s grief, always
challenging those who blithely believed in a just and loving God. A key event. He saw a man climb
a tree and took the mother bird from the nest, leaving the young to die… clearly against the Torah
law. Yet he walked safely away. Another day he saw a man climb a tree, shoo away the mother bird
before taking the chicks as the Torah allows. He got down from the tree and was bitten by a snake
and died in terrible agony.

A pest, a troublemaker, yet he stayed around… couldn’t give it up, even though the other rabbis sent
him to Coventry and wished he would just leave, but he didn’t. Maybe his cynicism made them
rethink their beliefs, challenged them, hopefully made their faith firmer.

The rabbinic literature records that Elisha ben Abuya fell mortally ill. His greatest pupil Rabbi Meir,
who had been faithful to him throughout, went to see him. It was Yom Kippur. Meir said, “would
you like to return, make Teshuvah – atonement?”

Elisha smiled wryly: “And if I did return, do you think I would be accepted?” “Oh yes, Elisha,
yes!” Then Elisha ben Abuya wept for the first time in 30 years… and passed away. Rabbi Meir
walked to the synagogue that Yom Kippur, rejoicing in his heart, saying: “it seemed to me my master
died in the midst of returning to God, of mending his sad soul, of reuniting his broken heart.”
Who knows if Elisha ben Abuya, Acher, returned, if he found peace, if he found God he had been
chasing towards and running away from for 30 years? It’s not recorded. But he never went away,
and though the community abandoned him, he did not abandon them.

Four rabbis living in difficult times. We too suddenly seem to be facing uncertainties in our national
life, not knowing where it will find us come next Yom Kippur. And cause for concern about our
Jewish community and threats to it and also to religion in general. Four rabbis, so different in
character… and yet each one adding something to our people and to our story of survival. And a last
thought: Rabbi Elisha ben Abuya had a daughter, and she had a son – Rabbi Yaakov ben Kershai,
and he became the teacher of Rabbi Judah ha-Nasi, the editor of the Mishna and so the saviour and
creator of the Judaism that all Jews since his time follow. We should never discount anybody but
welcome all in. Who knows what any one person will add to our community and people… and
through this, the world… some will add nothing, some little, but so often the unexpected person will
be the most important.

Whatever your belief, whatever your attachment to Judaism, whatever the measure of your life, you
can all play your part in seeking to bring, if not pardes, then some improvement to this troubled
world. And in doing so bring meaning to your own life. May this be in your thoughts this Kol
Nidrei night and I wish you success and shalom this day and in the year to come.

RABBI AKIVA AND THEODICY

D R . M A I E R B E C K E R W R I T E S : 16

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Rabbi Akiva possessed the extraordinary capacity to laugh in the face of disaster, to offer a confident
religious response to crushing tragedy, and, somehow, to provide comfort to his wounded
countrymen who did not naturally share his hopeful expectancy.1 In what lay the source of R. Akiva’s
great powers of faith and sympathy? How was he able to cope (let alone console) under the most
trying circumstances?

Consider the four well-known episodes recorded in the Talmud (in

order, Berakhot 60b, Sanhedrin 101a, Berakhot 6lb, Makkot 24b):

Akiva was traveling and came upon a city but was unable to find lodging. He said, “Everything G-d
does is for the good” and went to sleep in the fields. He had with him a rooster, a donkey, and a
candle. A wind came and extinguished his candle, a cat ate his rooster, and a lion devoured his
donkey. He said, “Everything G-d does is for the good.” That night an army took captive all the
inhabitants of the town. He then said, “Did I not tell you everything G-d does is for the good?”

When R. Eliezer was sick, his students went to visit him. He said, “The sun in ths world is very hot
[G-d is angry with me and has afflicted me greatly—Rashi].” The students cried and R. Akiva
laughed. . . . R. Akiva asked, “Why do you cry?” They answered, “The Torah is in pain, and will we
not cry?” R. Akiva said, “It is for this reason that I laugh. Until now, I saw that Rabbi [Eliezer] never
had his wine turn to vinegar, never had his flax spoil, and never had his oil putrefy. I thought that
Heaven forbid, he had received his reward in this world. Now that I see that he is suffering, I am
happy. . . .” When R. Eliezer was sick, four elders went to visit him. R. Akiva said, “Suffering is
dear as it caused King Menashe to repent.”

When R. Akiva was taken to be executed it was tied to recite the Shema. His skin was being flayed
with metal combs and he accepted upon himself the yoke of Heaven. His students said, “Rabbi, this
far?” R. Akiva replied, “Until now I was anxious as to how I would fulfill the requirement of
the pasuk [to love G-d] ‘with your soul’—even if He takes your soul.’ I said, ‘When will I have the
opportunity to fulfill this pasuk? Now that the opportunity has arisen, will I not avail myself of it?'”

They were walking near the ruins of the Temple and saw a fox emerge from the place in which had
stood the Holy of Holies. The colleagues began to cry, and R. Akiva laughed. He asked them, “Why
do you cry?” They answered, “Now that foxes walk on the Holy of Holies, will we not cry?” R.
Akiva responded, “It is for this reason that I laugh. Just as we have witnessed the prophecy of
destruction of Mikha so will we merit to witness the prophecy of redemption of Zekharia.”

Already the sheer variety of R. Akiva’s responses suggests that he did not have a set formula for the
problem of suffering and evil.2 He responds differently to different situations, perhaps depending
upon the nature and degree of the distress. What is a pertinent response in one setting may be out of
place in another.

Taking the episodes in order: Accepting inconvenience and even loss of property with equanimity,
as in the first instance, is the legacy of R. Akiva’s teacher Nahum Ish Gam Zu,3 famous for (and
named after) his aphorism, “gam zu le-tova“—”this too is for the good.” This doctrine simply refuses
to admit of evil and dismisses the perception of it as limited in sight. As it happened, R. Akiva was
able in this instance to witness the truth of this, as his very misfortune prevented his detection by the
marauding army, but even without that assurance he was prepared to put his faith in the justice of
the Almighty’s plan.
But witnessing the affliction of his teacher, R. Akiva does not recite apothegms about the goodness
of all that G-d does. He cannot here deny what he sees, and he cannot negate the notion of Divine
retribution. Thus, he offers that perhaps human suffering may have some purpose, to extirpate sin or
to generate remorse; that though suffering, man can be redeemed.4

When R. Akiva is himself faced with suffering so great such that the heavenly angels cannot bear it,
neither of his earlier responses is appropriate. Suffering of this magnitude—good? Just
punishment—while the heavens cry? R. Akiva just seizes the opportunity to sanctify God’s name. 5

Finally, R. Akiva and his colleagues are faced with the destruction of the Temple, seat of the
Shekhina’s presence in this world. Can R. Akiva sanctify God’s name as a beast scampers about the
Holy of Holies? After the Roman general Titus drew blood from the Temple walls and boasted of
killing G-d? 6 R. Akiva can but profess his faith in the redemption to come.

If a unified doctrine is not to be found in these vignettes, what unites them is R. Akiva’s impulse to
respond; his refusal to suffer without a response; and his ability, finally, to summon some response,
be it reasoned optimism, Kiddush Hashem, or simple faith.

What was the source of this great faith opposite devastation? Was it merely an innate character trait
or had R. Akiva somehow learned the secrets of sekhar va-onesh? The Gemara provides a kind of
answer to this question in its discussion of the difficulties R. Akiva’s colleagues experienced in their
own quest to understand Divine Providence.

Four entered the Pardes [studied the deepest secrets of the Torah] . . . Ben Azzai looked and died;
Ben Zoma looked and lost his mid; Aher [Elisha ben Avuya] uprooted the trees; R. Akiva entered
complete and emerged complete.

Hagiga 14b:

What were they looking for and what did they see?

Rashi7 explains the cause of Ben Azzai’s death as “. . . ki lo yir’ani ha-adam va-hai“—”no one will
see Me (G-d) and continue to be a living man” (Exodus 33:20). According to Rashi, Ben Azzai
looked at G-d, and suffered the consequence.

But the question remains, what does it mean to look at G-d? The sole Talmudic source8 discussing
this is a Gemara in Berakhot (7a). Citing R. Yeshoshua ben Korha, the Gemara states that Moshe
Rabbenu wanted to understand the secrets of tsaddik ve-ra lo, of Divine justice. When he implored
G-d, “Hodi’eni et derakhekha” (Exodus 33:13), he was asking, “How is it that we observe sinners
succeed and the righteous suffer?” For R. Yehoshua ben Korha, God’s response, “Lo tukhal lir’ot et
Panai, ki lo yir’ani ha-adam va-hai,” meant that “you may legitimately ask about Divine justice.
You are correct to be puzzled by what may appear to be an unfair world. But understanding My
judgment is tantamount to seeing My face and I will not show you My face. I will not share with you
the secrets that unravel this mystery. If you learn the answers to these questions, and thereby see My
face, you will cease to exist.” Thus, accordig to Rashi, death was Ben Azzai’s unavoidable fate as
he discovered the secrets of tsaddik ve-ra lo.9

Ben Zoma: What did he see that drove him to insanty? Accordig to Rashi he studied the secrets of
Creation [MaJaseh Bereshit],10 which, according to the Gemara (Hagiga II b), deal with “what is
above and what is below.”11 We turn, again, to R. Yehoshua ben Korha. In a midrash, he recalls
Moshe Rabbenu hiding his face from the marvel of the burning bush. G-d, according to R. Yehoshua,
disapproved. Had Moshe not averted his gaze from the awesome sight, “G-d would have revealed
what was above and below. . . .” Later, when Moshe requested “Har’eni et kevadekha”
(Exodus 33:18), G-d replied: “When I wanted you didn’t want to see. Now that you ask I do not want
to [show you]” (Shemot Rabba 45:5).

But R. Yehoshua ben Korha does not explain what Ma’aseh Bereshit and “what is above and what
is below” refer to. This he does in a separate analysis of the same pesukim (Berakhot 7a):

“Hodi’eni et derakhekha.” Moshe said to G-d, “Why do some righteous prosper, and some suffer,
some wicked prosper and some suffer?” R. Meir says, “The answer to this question was not granted
to Moshe.” R. Yehoshua Ben Korha concurs with R. Meir and states, “G-d said to Moshe, ‘When I
wanted to show you [at the burning bush—Rashi], you did not want to see [va-yaster Moshe panav—
Rashi], now that you want to see I do not want to show you.'”

Here R. Yehoshua ben Korha identifies “Derakhekha” as the answer to the problem of tsaddik ve-ra
lo, which G-d was prepared to reveal—would have revealed—to Moshe had he not turned away. The
near identical midrashic and Talmudic statements of R. Yehoshua ben Korha suggest that “what is
above and what is below,” or “Ma’aseh Bereshit” is synonymous with the Talmudic mystery of “why
some righteous prosper and some suffer.”12

Ben Zoma, then, like Ben Azzai, did not enter the Pardes out of mere curiosity but was searching
for answers to tsaddik ve-ra lo. And like Ben Azzai, he could not remain as he was, fully alive, so
went mad.13 The third visitor to Pardes, Aher, or Elisha ben Avuya, “uprooted the trees. . . . What
did he see that led him to uproot the trees? He saw the angel Metatron in heaven writing the merits
of the Jewish people” (Hagiga 15a). The Gemara describes him witnessing the heavenly
dispensation of reward and punishment: an angel writing the merits of the Jewish people. Not G-d,
notice, but a force apparently distinct from G-d deciding matters of sekhar ve-onesh. Aher concluded
that G-d was not responsible for all occurrences in the universe.

Another Gemara (Kiddushin 39b) offers a seemingly unrelated explanation for Elisha’s apostasy:

What made Aher sin? Some say he saw a man ask his son to climb a tree and obtain baby birds after
sending away the mother. The son, after obeying his father [thus fulfilling two commandments which
promise long life] fell out of the tree and died.

In both instances Aher observed reward and punishment seemingly distributed haphazardly. In
heaven’s upper recesses and on a single rooftop on earth, forces (Aher saw as) outside of G-d were
given free reign.14 As Maharsha puts it succinctly, “Aher uprooted the trees after he saw the boy fall
out of the tree.”15 After seeing his sense of Divine justice confounded, Aher entered the Pardes. He,
too, emerged a different man. He was no longer Elisha ben Avuya, but Aher the heretic.

Finally, there is R. Akiva, who entered the Pardes complete and exited complete. What was his
journey? The Gemara (Hagiga 14b) sees R. Akiva in the role of guide and advisor to the other three
scholars. Apparently he sought the same revelations. Indeed, Rashi says that R. Akiva knew how to
enter the Pardes and avoid the pitfalls to which his colleagues fell prey.16 He could see the face of
G-d, learn the secrets of theodicy, and emerge complete.17 In fact, the Gemara says that the angels
tried to push R. Akiva out of the Pardes to the objection of G-d Himself: “Leave the old man, as he
is appropriate to use my honor [kevodi].”18 R. Akiva is somehow worthy of kevod ha-Shekhina.

But what of “lo yir’ani ha-adam va-hai?” R. Akiva is finally a finite human being; how could he
defy the limitations that bind mere mortals, even one as great as Moshe? The answer may be found,
again, in the words of R. Yehoshua ben Korha. If Moshe, in turning away from the burning bush, in
hiding his own face would see G-d do the same, perhaps one who stood unflinching could, with the
union of Divine and human will, “see and live.” As Maharsha notes, R. Yehoshua ben Korha
understands the phrase “lo yir’ani” to mean “you will not see” rather than “you cannot see.”19 But
for turning away, Moshe could have seen God’s face at the burning bush. R. Akiva, who peered
unflinching, beheld Penei ha-Shekhina.

No Tanaitic opinion bears more relevance on the life and achievements of R. Akiva than that of R.
Yehoshua ben Korha. No one enjoyed a closer relationship with R. Akiva than did R. Yehoshua.
Indeed, as Rashi notes, R. Yehoshua was R. Akiva’s son!20 Perhaps R. Yehoshua learned that man
is capable of seeing God’s face from R. Akiva’s passage though the Pardes.

The four journeymen lived shortly after the destruction of the Second Temple. They witnessed the
devastation of the failed Bar Kokhba revolt and the horrific Hadrianc persecutions. They all struggled
to understand the great calamities that befell the Jewish people. All of them entered the Pardes for
the same reason: to understand the greatest Divine Mystery of tsaddik ve-ra lo. All knew of the
dangers inherent in delving into these matters. G-d had already decreed, “lo yir’ani ha-adam va-
hai,”—you may not emerge whole from this quest. Indeed, three of the men were irreparably
damaged. Ben Azzai died, Ben Zoma became a lifeless body, and Elisha ben Avuya’s spirit passed
away. Al three are nameless to us. Ben Azzai and Ben Zoma are known only by their fathers’ names
and Aher (Other) has no name at alL.21 Only R. Akiva emerged unscathed.22

We will never know what R. Akiva learned in the Pardes, whose great secrets are inaccessible to us.
Perhaps R. Akiva’s unshakable optimism and his ability to comfort drew from the assurances he
received in the Pardes. Or, perhaps his indefatigable personality, his faith, and his sympathy were
what enabled him alone to stare into the abyss, see God’s Face, and remain complete.23 Of such a
man may it be said, “Akiva you have comforted us, Akiva you have comforted us.”24

NOTES
I am grateful to Rabbi Berel Wein, Dr. Yehuda Eliezri and to my father Dr. Avraham Becker for
reviewing this article and for sharing their insightful comments and suggestions.

1. Makkot 24a, Sanhedrin 101a. Sifei Be-HaJalotekha 9:10 records R. Akiva’s contemporaries remarking “You never cease
to surprise us with your optimism.”

2. Haim Kolitz in Rosh Le-Hakhamim (Tel Aviv, 1980), Chapter 16, addresses R. Akiva’s approach to some of
these Gemarot and suggests alternate interpretations.

3. Hagiga 12a.

4. Interestingly, Nahum Ish Gamzu himself invokes Divine punishment to explain his own physical ailments;
see Ta’anit 21a.

5. Ephraim E. Urbach in The Sages (Cambridge, 1979), pp. 443-444, claims that R. Akiva’s outlook on suffering changed
when he was confronted with religious persecution. Following the Hadrianic decrees R. Akiva abandoned his early
approach of ascribing suffering to sin and began to view it exclusively as a spur to the service of G-d. According to
Urbach, Berakhot 61b represents R. Akiva’s paradigmatic approach to suffering. See, however, E.P. Sanders, “R. Akiba’s
View of Suffering,” JQR 63, pp.332-351, who attempts to find a contextual basis for R. Akiva’s various approaches.

6. Gittin S6b.
7. Rashi, s.v. yakar be-enei Hashem, Hagiga 14b.

8. The Talmud in Yevamot 49b states that looking at G-d refers to seeing Him on His throne but does not elaborate on the
attributes of G-d that this vision provides.

9. Rashi (Exodus 33:13) identifies, on a midrashic level, Moshe’s request of “Hodi’eni et Derakhekha” as relating to Divine
reward in accordance with Berakhot 7a. It is to this request that G-d responds “Lo yir’ani ha-adam va-hai.”
Rambam, Yesodei ha-Torah 1:10, says that Moshe was asking about the essence of G-d rather than about reward and
punishment. This paper follows the aggadic interpretation of the Gemara in Berakhot 7a, its explication by R. Yehoshua
Ben Korha, and Rashi’s midrashic acceptance of ths Gemara.

10. Rashi, s.v. tsofeh hayiti, Hagiga 15a. This appears to be an undisputed opinion and is based on the Tosefta (Hagiga 2:3)
that states explicitly, “Ben Zoma said that he was looking at Ma’ase Bereshit.” The Yerushalmi (Hagiga 2:1) has a similar
formulation.

11. Rambam (in the introduction to Moreh Nevukhim) and Tosafot (Hagiga 11b, s.v. yakhol, based on Tosefta Hagiga 2:3)
offer explanations at variance with those I propose.

12. In Exodus (33), Moshe asks two apparently distinct questions of G-d, “Hodi’eni et derakhekha” and “Har’eni et
kevodekha.” It is to the second question that G-d responds” Lo tukhat lir’ot et Panai ki lo yir’ani ha-adam va-hai.” A
careful reading of the Gemara in Berakhot 7a indicates, however, that R. Yehoshua Ben Korha views
the pesukim of Hodi’eni and Har’eni as alternate formulations of the same request. The Gemara begins by stating
that Hodi’eni asks to understand Divine justice. It proceeds with R. Meir’s saynig that G-d responded to Moshe’s request
with “I show favor {ve-hanoti{ to whom I show favor” (i.e., something only I can understand). But in the Humash these
words are God’s answer to Har’eni, not Hodi’eni! R. Meir apparently understands Hodi’eni and Har’eni to represent a
continuum of Moshe’s petition to understand Divine justice. It is to both of these, synonymous, questions that G-d
responds with “ve-hanoti.” After presenting the opinion of R. Meir, the Gemara cites the supporting position of R.
Yehoshua Ben Korha that Moshe was not granted his request. R. Yehoshua explicates “lo tukhal lirJot et Panai” for
God’s denial of the Har’eni entreaty when in the Torah it was the reply to Hodi’eni. It is clear that both R. Yehoshua Ben
Korha and R. Meir view Hodi’eni and Har’eni in terms of tsaddik ve-ra lo. Hence, R. Yehoshua Ben Korha’s midrashic
analysis of Har’eni and talmudic explication of Hodi’eni are alternate formulations of the same position. In contrast to
the Gemara, Rambam in Moreh Nevukhim (1:54) clearly differentiates between these two requests of Moshe and
understands neither of them as relating specifically to issues of sekhar ve-onesh. Rashi (Exodus 33:18) appears to
differentiate between these pesukim as well but recognizes the derash of Berakhot 7a.

13. The idea that “lo yir’ani ha-adam va-hai” can result in symbolic, rather than physical death, may be found in R. Menahem
Kasher’s Torah Shelema (Jerusalem, 1992), Exodus 33, no. 134, where Pirkei de-R. Eliezer 32 is cited regarding the
blindness of Isaac. According to this source Isaac became blind at the akeda when he looked at G-d, and as a blind man is
symbolically considered dead (see Nedarim 64b), Isaac’s blindness was a fulfillment of Lo Yir’ani.

14. Yehuda Leibes in Het’o Shel Elisha (Jerusalem, 1990) chapter 3 states that Elisha ben Avuya perceived Divine injustice
when witnessing both the boy falling out of the tree and Mettatron writing about the Jewish people. Leibes does not,
however, suggest that Elisha’s perception was the impetus for his entering the Pardes or for his apostasy.

15. 15. Kiddushin

16. S.v. mai darash, Hagiga 16a.

17. Rashi (ibid.) offers two explanations as to how R. Akiva survived the Pardes. The fist states that R. Akiva knew what to
avoid looking at. The second states that he knew how to avoid being misled (presumably despite looking at all there was
to see). This paper is more consistent with the second opinion expressed by Rashi. According to the first approach of
Rashi, it appears that R. Akiva entered the Pardes with the same questions as Elisha, but it is unclear as to whether he
learned the ultimate answers since he avoided looking at the deepest secrets.

18. “Kevodi” alludes to “Har’eni na et kevodekha.”

19. Berakhot 7a. See also Torah Shelema, Exodus 33, no. 128, where it is claimed that Rashi (Exodus 33:20) espouses a
similar view. Rashi states on “Lo yir’ani” that G-d did not grant Moshe permission to see His face. R. Kasher understands
this to imply that when permission is granted it is possible for man to see God’s face.

20. Bekhorot 58a, s.v. huts.

21. I am indebted to my father for this observation.

 22. The fact that Moshe did not merit to learn this information and R. Akiva did should not be surprising. Menahot 29b
recounts that R. Akiva understood the secrets behind the crowns on the biblical letters while Moshe Rabbeinu did not.
This Gemara teaches that while Moshe was unparalleled in his prophetic knowledge, G-d allowed for some Divine secrets
to be discovered though man’s cognitive study of the Torah. R. Akiva could therefore surpass even Moshe in some
respects through his study of the very Torah that Moshe commanded at Sinai. (See Maharal’s Hiddushei
Agadot, Menahot 29b where the distinction between prophetic and non-prophetic knowledge is more fully developed.) A
distinction of greater significance for this paper, between R. Akiva’s and Moshe’s knowledge may be found in the ensuing
portion of Menahot. After learning of R. Akiva’s great Torah scholarship Moshe asks G-d to show him R. Akiva’s earthly
reward. Moshe, upon witnessing R. Akiva’s horrific death, cries out in disbelief, “This is Torah and its reward?”
Significantly, Moshe’s phrase is the same as that mouthed by the angels (Berakhot 61b) when they are faced with R.
Akiva’s death; “Zo Torah ve-zo sekhara” is found nowhere else in the Babylonian Talmud. Moshe and the angels are
silenced, but R. Akiva himself is able to reply meaningfully (see Berakhot 61b).

23. Sifrei, Beha’alotekha 12:8, quotes the opinion of R. Akiva that in “lo yir’ani ha-adam va-hai,” “adam” refers to man,
while “hai” refers to the angels. Neither man nor the angels can see God’s face in this scheme. This would seem to
preclude R. Akiva himself, but this would hardly be the first instance of R. Akiva’s exceptionality. Indeed,
in Berakhot 61b, R. Akiva offers an approach to suffering that the angels could not express.

24. See Makkot 24a. Haim Kolitz, in Chapter 9 of Rosh le-Hakhamim, connects R. Akiva’s unfailing belief in redemption
with his entrance into the Pardes. Kolitz quotes Kuzari (3:65) to the effect that R. Akiva attained a level bordering on
prophecy with his entrance into Pardes. Neither Kuzari nor Kolitz, however, relate to the content of what R. Akiva saw
in Pardes.

the four rabbis tell their tale

mira z amiras writes:17

Here’s another example where my Father’s telling may differ from your Father’s telling.

The Tale of the Four Rabbis who entered Paradise is another example of the manifestation of four
elements in Jewish tradition. Pesach, of course, is filled with them: four glasses of wine, four ‘sons,’

17
https://thedaybeforecreation.com/four-rabbis-tell-tale/
four questions, etc. There are four letters of the Tetragrammaton—the ineffable name of the God of
Abraham. Four elements. And here we have the four letters that make up the word Pardes.

That is P-R-D-S or rather: ‫ס‬-‫ד‬-‫ר‬-‫ — פ‬The Hebrew word ‘Pardes’ that means ‘Orchard’ —
meaning that orchard, the one we call Paradise.

The rabbis ascend, the tale goes, each revealing his character and his deficits. Except for Rabbi
Akiva, who successfully navigates the mysteries of Paradise, and returns to this world to face
the world that is, and not just the world to come.

I was told this story slightly differently than you were told it, I’m sure. Again, because my Father’s
tales always took a right (or left) turn somewhere along the way.

So just relax about it. Don’t get huffy. A tale is a teaching tool. And each lesson requires a different
telling. This one is my legacy. Yours is yours.

And so. In the tale that I was told, yes—the four rabbis ascend into the Pardes. But each according
to his capacity.

The First Rabbi enters through the letter ‫℗ פ‬, the first letter of Pardes. And that letter stands for
Pshat—the simple, fundamentalist, literal approach, lacking inquiry, and taking what is seen at face
value. And so. The first rabbis enter Paradise. He sees an orchard. He becomes a gardener. And
yikes, he steals some cuttings to make a garden of his own. What’s that about?

Now. While I learned to have contempt for the first rabbi, to not trust him, and to never ever emulate
him, these days I feel quite differently about him. I’ve since learned to appreciate (mostly from
lectures by Danny Matt on Zohar) that pshat is really an opportunity. An invitation to inquiry. The
door is ajar. We are invited to walk through, to investigate, and most of all to experience at multiple
levels of consciousness at the same time. Pshat is the gateway to the miraculous. But yah, not
everyone (or hardly anyone) journeys that far.

I’m also less upset these days about the notion of ‘stealing’ cuttings. Plants want to propagate. I’m
sure they at least were happy about the greater distribution. As long as we’re just talking about plants.

The Second Rabbi was the one my Father seemed to identify with the most. And therefore I learned
to love him best. He entered through the letter ‫ ® ר‬, the second letter of Pardes. And this is the
letter of intellect. The letter Reish stands for Rosh, or Head, and thereby what we use our minds
for—and that would be inquiry and analysis. (At least that’s what I was taught).
But the story goes that the Second Rabbi overdid it. Obsessive compulsive disorder. Investigating to
the point of driving himself nuts in the process of (over)interpretation. Does this mean that too much
analysis is bad for the health? Not according to my Father. For him, inquiry was to be pursued until—

The Third Rabbi knew how to act. Knew what to do with the analyses and data he had amassed. He
entered the Pardes through the letter ‫( ד‬D), Dalet, who stands for Door. The door to action. And
the Third Rabbi, I was taught, was a man of action. An activist. Controversial, yes, but attuned to the
currents of history. I think Martin Luther King Jr. Malcolm X. Shabbatei Sevi…

Stop me here, and say (as you should) —what’s with all the men and male images? It’s enough
already.

And I would say you’re right.

It’s exactly how I feel about our upcoming presidential election.

We have pshat — Trump — a seeming simpleton, in this case bully, who can ‘steal’ the cuttings of
Pardes and maybe (we shall see) get away with it.

We have drush — that would be Bernie — calling for the great American revolution of sorts. Which
is a funny way to run for president and stay within the confines of electoral procedure.

And I suppose (finally a female face), we have ‘Hillary’ who attempts to obliterate her husband’s
surname and to make herself, thereby, somehow a bit softer at the edges. She is our Remez — giving
us analysis and greater complexity that no one seems to want to listen to.

And what of our Fourth Rabbi?

Tradition says the Fourth Rabbi was Rabbi Akiva, who ‘entered in Peace and left in Peace.’ He
entered the Pardes through the letter Samech — ‫( ס‬S), which stands for Sōd, or the hidden, secret
dimension of the Pardes. And so, he could see what others could not. Feel it and know it with his
heart as well as his mind.

He, I must say, is not running for President of the United States this year. He was, you may
recall, martyred by the Romans.
 Who Entered the Orchard

Four Talmudic sages ascended to rectify the spiritual universes.

Moshe Yaakov Wisnefsky writes:18

Four entered the Orchard (Pardes).19 They were Ben Azzai, Ben Zoma, Acher [literally, "the
Other", referring to Elisha ben Abuya], and Rabbi Akiva. Rabbi Akiva warned them, "When you
enter near the stone of pure marble, do not say 'water, water,' since [there is actually no water
there at all, and] it is written, 'He who speaks falsehood will not be established before My
eyes' (Psalms 101:7)."

Ben Azzai gazed and died. Regarding him it is written, "Precious in G-d's eyes is the death of His
pious ones" (Psalms 116:15).

18
Translated and adapted by Moshe-Yaakov Wisnefsky from Sefer HaLikutim and Likutei Torah; subsequently published in "Apples

From the Orchard." available at Kabbala Online Shop] https://www.chabad.org/kabbalah/article_cdo/aid/380400/jewish/4-Who-

Entered-the-Orchard.htm

19
[augmented by Shaar Maamarei Chazal (p. 3b on Chagiga 14b), in square brackets with (SMC) at the end.]
Ben Zoma gazed and was stricken [with insanity; he went out of his mind]. Regarding him it is
written, "You have found honey, eat moderately lest you bloat yourself and vomit it". (Proverbs
25:16)

Acher gazed and cut the plantings [i.e. he became a heretic].

Rabbi Akiva [entered in peace and] departed in peace...

Chagiga 14b

The ministering angels also wished to cast down Rabbi Akiva, but the Holy One said, "Leave this
elder alone, for he is worthy of making use of My glory"

Chagiga 15b

Since Adam committed his sin, we have been eating its fruits [suffering its
consequences] throughout the entire period of This World. It will not be rectified completely
until the advent of the Mashiach.

Now, these four sages were some of the greatest of their generation. [They were extraordinary in
wisdom and piety, as is known, for they were able to see with Ruach HaKodesh, and they mastered
the discipline of Maaseh Merkava, the Work of the Chariot (SMC).] Their intention therefore was
nothing less than to rectify what Adam had caused to be defective.

It is possible that they intended to rectify the entire sin. Possibly, they wanted to rectify those
aspects of Adam's sin that related directly to the root of their souls in Adam.

These sages saw and understood that they would have to rectify the very thing that Adam
damaged. Adam had prematurely enlarged the keter of Zeir Anpin [before Shabbat], that is,
before the entry of the mochin of Abba. This is what caused all the damage mentioned
above. [That is, Zeir's daat, from the side of Imma, fell and descended below between his shoulders,
into the upper third of the sefira of tiferet. (SMC)] It is therefore impossible to rectify that defect
and raise up Zeir Anpin's daat, without first drawing up the fallen mochin of Abba and having
them enter into Zeir. Only then will it be possible to rectify Zeir's keter, and to
raise Zeir's daat up above to its place. With this, all will be rectified. These four sages wanted
to rectify this defect by all four of them working together…
Know, therefore, that anyone who wants to rectify this defect must draw all
four mochin of Abba, namely, chochma, bina, and daat (which is made up of two aspects,
namely, chasadim and gevurot). In order to do this, a very great tikun is required.

Now, understand that these four sages wanted to rectify this defect by all four of them working
together. That is, each one would concentrate on drawing up one of the
four mochin of Abba. [They didn't think that each of them had the ability to draw up all four mochin.
(SMC)] The problem is that they erred in thinking this way. The only way they could possibly
have succeeded would be if each of them drew up all four mochin. You will therefore find that
even Rabbi Akiva's life was endangered when the ministering angels (alternatively: the
attribute of din/judgment) wanted to cast him down.

The fact is that this is truly astonishing. Why would the angels want to cast Rabbi Akiva
down? [alt: Could the attribute of din have cast him down?] We can understand wanting to cast
down the others, for they sinned and were worthy of being punished. Rabbi Akiva, on the other
hand, did not sin, but rather entered in peace [and departed in peace]. Why would they have
cast him down had the Holy One not intervened and said, "Leave this elder alone, for he is
worthy of making use of My glory"?

The answer is, however, that Rabbi Akiva should have tried to rectify all four mochin of Abba.
It matters not that, as we shall explain, in the process of concentrating on one, he was able to
draw up all four. The fact remains that he should have striven to rectify all four and then draw
them all up. Not having done so, this caused the angels to want to cast him down. And again,
they would have done so, had the Holy One not intervened, saying that Rabbi Akiva was
worthy after succeeding in drawing up all four by means of rectifying one.

This having been said, we will now begin to clarify the particular tikun that each of these sages
intended to do:

Each of the Four Sages tried to raise up one of the Four Mochin of Abba:
 Ben Azzai tried to raise
chochma of Abba
up

Ben Zoma tried to raise

bina of Abba
up

R' Akiva tried to raise Crown

up of chesed [of daat]

Crown
Acher tried to raise up
of gevura [of daat]

Ben Azzai began by attempting to draw the chochma of Abba into Zeir Anpin. His assumption
was that, if he could rectify the [fallen] chochma of Abba and draw it into Zeir Anpin,
it [chochma of Abba] would then rise up and draw up the [fallen] chochma of Imma with it as
well. Being on the right side [of Imma], which is the source of
the chasadim [of daat], chochma of Imma would then draw up the fallen crown of chesed that
had descended below (as mentioned above...) and raise it up to [its proper] position in daat.
The chasadim of daat would then draw and raise up the [fallen] gevurot as well, being that the
nature of chesed and gevura is always to join together. Similar to a man and wife, their sole
desire is to unite, for in this sense they are like two mochin, like chochma and bina [which are
called "two friends who never part"].

These two mochin-crowns…sought a more expansive place so that they could dwell at ease…

All this is true despite the fact that we explained above (...) that, when
the chasadim and gevurot fell "between the shoulders," they became separated from each
other, with the chasadim remaining on the right shoulder, and the gevurot remaining on the
left shoulder. The reason this does not contradict what we said is because [ultimately] when
these two mochin-crowns descended there, they found it to be a very constricted place. They
therefore sought a more expansive place so that they could dwell at ease.

However [Ben Azzai reasoned], when the crown of chesed rises up, there is no question that the
desire of the crown of gevura [to be one with its mate] will impel it to rise up together with it. In
this way [he thought], daat would return to its place and all four mochin would surely be
rectified.

And [again, according to Ben Azzai's plan] it was not necessary to draw the bina of Imma up
together with chochma of Imma [although, in truth, that too had fallen], and to therefore draw
up bina of Abba as well. This would be totally unnecessary for the simple reason that the entire
purpose of drawing up and then bringing down the chochma and bina of Abba below, is to
raise up the daat that had fallen below. Therefore, when the daat would rise up,
the bina of Imma would rise up of its own accord. In truth, only daat descended…

However, Ben Azzai erred in his thoughts. For although we have explained elsewhere that
both chochma and bina of Imma descended, this is not to be taken literally. In truth,
only daat descended, for the reason that we mentioned above in connection with Adam's sin.
The chochma and bina of Imma themselves, however, did not descend. Only their
illumination [i.e. their NHY, that is, netzach-hod-yesod; otherwise called their "achorayim", their
back side], the reason being that they had to stay close enough to keep daat alive [even] in its
fallen state below. For daat is, after all, their offspring [i.e. of chochma and bina]. For daat is
the chasadim and gevurot that came forth from chochma and bina of Imma, as is known.

In sum, the chochma and bina of Imma remain above, quite a distance from daat which
descended below. When Ben Azzai then raised up the chochma of Imma by means of
the chochma of Abba, the chochma of Imma did not have the power to raise up with her the
fallen crown of chesed, because of its distance. Not only was chochma of Imma incapable to
raising up the crown of chesed, however, but in addition, another defect occurred.

At first, [the illumination of] chochma of Imma was in fairly close proximity to both
the chasadim and the gevurot, such that it was able to illuminate them and sweeten them. Now,
however, when it rose up, it separated completely from the gevurot and became distant from
them. As a result, they turned into extremely severe dinim [judgments] with no sweetening.
Ben Azzai…died because he separated and cut chochma off from the gevurot…
For bringing about such a situation, death was decreed upon Ben Azzai. He died because he
separated and cut chochma off from the gevurot. He caused a cleavage and "cut the plantings",
and in doing so, greatly amplified the power of the dinim [judgments]. He therefore died, in
the mystery of the verse, "They shall die without wisdom" (Job 4:21). That is, "They shall die
because chochma has departed from them."

Be that as it may, since Ben Azzai's tikun was with chochma, and his desire was to raise up
the chochma of Imma and the chasadim, both of which are on the right side, it is therefore said
concerning him, "Precious in G-d's eyes is the death of His pious ones [in Hebrew, "chasidav",
from the root word "chesed"]" (Psalms 116:15). [Chesed is in the right column, immediately
beneath chochma.] That is, he was considered precious and a chasid in the [partial] tikun that he
was successful in doing.

Ben Zoma wanted to draw up the bina of Abba. He thought and reasoned like this: The third
aspect of Adam's sin (see above) consisted in allowing the kelipot to grab unto and derive
nourishment and power from the crown of gevura (the gevurot) when he caused it (them) to
descend below and become separated from the crown of chesed (the chasadim). (This was the
root of the third defect and blemish that Adam had brought about.)

"If so", Ben Zoma thought, "I will attempt to rectify and raise up the crown of gevura alone.
In this way, everything else will automatically receive its rectification". Ben Zoma thus began
by drawing up the bina of Abba so that it would draw up the bina of Imma, which would then
draw up the gevurot, which are from her side [the left side]. In this way, they would all rise up
above, and the chitzonim20 would be prevented from grabbing unto them anymore as they had
as a result of Adam's sin.
Ben Zoma caused a great defect by joining the gevurot with bina of Imma…

But Ben Zoma also erred. At least the chasadim were together with the gevurot below before
he started. The gevurot were therefore at least partially sweetened by virtue of their close
proximity of the chasadim. In particular, bina, which is sometimes called
supernal gevura [because it is the source of gevura] was far away [and far

20
the external forces of the kelipa - the forces of chaos, randomness and disorder, darkness and evil, etc.
above] them [the gevurot]. [As the source of gevura, bina is also called "Ba'al Hagevurot", "Master
of the Gevurot", as in the second blessing in the Standing Prayer.]

Now, however, the gevurot had risen up, and in the process had become distanced from
the chasadim. If this wasn't enough, they now had bonded with bina of Imma which [as
stated] is called Supernal gevura. In short, he caused all the gevurot to join together without the
mediating and sweetening agency of the chasadim. The gevurot thus became extremely
stern dinim [judgments].

And though Ben Zoma relied on Ben Azzai's accomplishments, he nevertheless caused a great
defect by joining the gevurot with bina of Imma. Indeed, Ben Zoma's sin was more severe than
Ben Azzai's. At least Ben Azzai had left the chasadim below to continue sweetening the gevurot.
In addition, as mentioned, bina, Supernal gevura, had been far away from [and far
above] the gevurot. Ben Azzai, therefore, did not cause a defect in them. He rather distanced
the chochma of Imma from them by raising it up.

Ben Zoma, on the other hand, distanced the gevurot from the chasadim and the chochma. And
in addition, he allowed them to bond with the gevura of bina [i.e. with bina, the supernal gevura],
and they became extremely severe dinim [judgments]. He was therefore punished more harshly,
for he gazed and was stricken, and went out of his mind.
It is the nature of the female to rise up and to seek the male…

The mystery of the matter is this: It is the nature of the female to rise up [i.e. to arouse
passion] and to seek [to unite with] the male, as per the verse concerning Eve, "Your
desire/passion will be to/for your husband". (Gen. 3:16) The male, on the other hand, has no
desire to rise up [i.e. arouse passion] toward the female. It is human nature that she needs him,
whereas he does not need her. [The male energy is giving, while the female energy is a receiving
and nourishing one.] In the same way, if the chasadim rise up first, the gevurot naturally follow
suit. Now, however, that the gevurot, which are female relative to the chasadim, have risen up,
the chasadim will not necessarily rise up with them.
Now, behold, the inner level of daat of Zeir Anpin is yesod of Imma, within which are the
crowns of chasadim and gevurot respectively. [In other words, yesod of Imma, which contains the
crowns of chasadim and gevurot, is clothed with the level of daat of Zeir
Anpin.] This yesod of Imma descended below. (Know, too, that daat is only complete/perfect
when its two halves, chesed and gevura, are united.) Such that, when Ben Zoma brought
forth [raised up] the gevurot from daat (which is none other than the yesod of Imma that
descended below), one half of daat (i.e. the gevurot) went up, while the other half (the chasadim)
remained below.

Having caused the gevurot to depart from daat, he too - measure for measure - was stricken
with insanity. He lost his daat by going out of his mind.Because Ben Zoma relied on what Ben
Azzai had already succeeded in rectifying…he did not die, but rather went out of his mind…
It turns out that, in one sense, Ben Zoma was punished less severely than Ben Azzai. [After all,
Ben Azzai died, and Ben Zoma only went out of his mind.] This is because Ben Zoma relied on
what Ben Azzai had already succeeded in rectifying, and he actually added another
partial tikun. For this reason, he did not die, but rather went out of his mind.

Thus, as we said, in view of the fact that Ben Azzai rectified the right side of chesed, he was
called "Chasid" [in Hebrew, "pious/devoted one", who serves the Beloved out of complete
selflessness and love]. Regarding him it is written, "Precious in G-d's eyes is the death of His
pious ones" (Psalms 116:15), which is a praise and an approbation [as brought in the Zohar on
this verse].

Ben Zoma, on the other hand, is described disparagingly. Regarding him it is written, "You
have found honey, eat moderately lest you bloat yourself and vomit it". (Proverbs 25:16) That
is, as I have already informed you concerning the mitzvah of Shofar (Shaar Hakavanot, Rosh
Hashanah, Drush 7; Pri Etz Chayim, Drushei HaShofar, chapters 1-2), there are 320
Judgments. "Honey", in Hebrew "devash" [which has a numerical value of 306], and which is
considered the kind of sweetness that is the root and source of judgments, is equal to the
numerical value of the first two letters of the word "shofar", the shin and vav [= 306]. Because
Ben Zoma greatly amplified the severe power of the gevurot and the judgments, this
disparaging verse was applied to him.
Rabbi Akiva rectified more than all of them. And furthermore, he did not sin, for focused more
on rectifying the crown of chesed.21

Edenic Paradise And Paradisal Eden Moshe Idel’s Reading Of The

Talmudic Legend Of The Four Sages Who Entered The Pardes

FELICIA WALDMAN writes:22

Abstract: Of the stories describing the adventures full of deep significances of the various rabbis
from the glorious Talmudic era, the most famous but also the most exploited is undoubtedly that of
the “four sages who entered the Pardes”.

If in the Talmudic Midrashic literature it was used to point out the dangers and achievements that
were related to speculations, rather than experiences, and in the mystical literature it was used to
point out the dangers that could befall the mystic on his way to God, to the kabbalists, Pardes was

21
[Adapted by Abraham Sutton from the Writings of the Ari, augmented by Shaar Maamarei Chazal (p. 3b on Chagiga 14b), in square

brackets with (SMC) at the end.]

22
https://www.academia.edu/64638757/Edenic_Paradise_And_Paradisal_Eden_Moshe_Idel_s_Reading_Of_The_Talmudic_Legend
_Of_The_Four_Sages_Who_Entered_The_Pardes
an unexplained parable for an unrevealed secret, a generalized metaphor for the danger zones of
religious experience, seen as something which was good for the few, but pernicious for others.

This article traces the manner in which Moshe Idel analyzes, in his books and lectures, the meanings
of this legend, taking the reader on a fascinating journey in time and space, throughout various types
of kabbalistic thinking and even maimonidean philosophy.

PARDES in Jewish mysticism in Moshe Idel’s works

Of the stories describing the adventures full of deep significances of the various rabbis from the
glorious Talmudic era, the most famous but also the most exploited is undoubtedly that of the “four
sages who entered the Pardes”.

Like most such stories, although backed by the Talmud’s authority, this account is not, and must not
be, by any means, mistaken for a historical truth, even though the four characters did exist at
approximately the same time and their esoteric preoccupations were real, thus provid ing the basis
of the story. It is rather a collection of rabbinical traditions about the effects of taking the mystical
path, describing types of experiences and possible outcomes, which give the text an exemplary
character.

So Rabbi Akiva, Ben Azzai, Ben Zoma, and Elisha ben Abuyah (Aher) entered the Pardes. One
peeked and died, another peeked and was injured, the third peeked and chopped down the plants [i.e.
he became mad and allured the youth]. Only Rabbi Akiva went up and came down safely.

The text appears in Tosefta Hagigah 2:3-4 and is completed by another parable: it may be considered
that the four travel on a main thoroughfare that passes between two paths: one of fire and one of
snow. If one of them leans to one side, he will be burned by the fire, if he leans to the other side, he
will be burned by the snow; the fire symbolism is thus extended, paradoxically, to the snow, which
may therefore “burn”.

To safely reach the destination they only need to keep the straight road and not let themselves be
drawn to any other direction. The adventure had two positive outcomes. Ben Azzai peeked and died
remaining loyal, and Rabbi Akiva peeked and came out safely. It also had two negative outcomes:
Ben Zoma peeked and lost his mind and Elisha peeked and became a heretic.

As Moshe Idel showed in a lecture,23 in time the text was used to reveal the most varied significances,
its interpretation depending largely on the context. If in the Talmudic-Midrashic literature it was
used to point out the dangers and achievements that were related to speculations, rather than
experiences, and in the mystical literature it was used to point out the dangers that could befall the
mystic on his way to God, to the kabbalists Pardes was an unexplained parable for an unrevealed
secret.

The freedom of maneuver in the interpretation process that this outlook allows is evident. Pardes
thus became a generalized metaphor for the danger zones of religious experience, seen as something
which was good for the few, but pernicious for others.

To better understand the significances found by the kabbalists in this parable we must first refer to
the pun behind the name of Pardes. In Hebrew “pardes” means orchard, while the notion of Heaven

23
held at the Hebrew University of Jerusalem in 1991 under the title Primordial Wisdom: The Philosopher’s Quest (available online
at http://www.kheper.net/topics/Kabbalah/Idel/lecture1.htm)
is rendered by the phrase Gan Eden (Garden of Eden). However, when the Tanach was translated
into Greek, the translators used the word Paradise (deriving from the Persian Paradesha), from which
there was a backward linkage to the Hebrew word “pardes”.

Thus, the notions of Pardes and Gan Eden, originally different, came to explain or amplify each
other. The dangers associated with Gan Eden [the angel with the flaming sword] were transferred
upon the Pardes and the dangers associated with the Pardes were transferred upon Gan Eden: both
came to represent dangerous ideals and idea dangers.

The Pardes story thus became the story of Paradise. It became a common effort of medieval
commentators to explain what happened in Paradise by means of the Pardes story. But the connection
operated in the opposite sense as well. Entering the Pardes became one and the same thing with
entering Paradise, i.e. returning to the primordial place and implicitly to the original state. At this
point we should recall the kabbalists’ preoccupation to restore the initial order, to complete the
Tikkun Olam and also the Tikkun Nephesh.

Not surprisingly the pun between Pardes with the literal meaning of Paradise (in the sense of both
orchard and heaven) and PaRDeS as the collection of the initials of the words Peshat (literal
meaning), Remes (allegorical meaning), Derash (homiletic meaning) and Sod (mystical meaning),
designating the four level reading of the sacred text, so dear to Rabbi Moses de Leon, an important
figure of the Kabbalah, with a big finger in the Zoharic pie24 gave birth to a long tradition of
interpretations in Jewish mysticism and not only. The pun is important because, as Moshe Idel
shows25 in Judaism hermeneutics is a crucial component of the mystical experience.

Of the many types of exegeses of the sacred text available, PaRDeS was the dearest to the kabbalists,
as it gave their teachings the privileged status of a higher type of knowledge. Furthermore, it must
be noted that PaRDeS was not a random combination of four different methods but a coherent system
which made integrated use of all their elements. At the same time, even this “improved” type of
exegesis had a relatively conservative nature, as it preserved the traditional interpretations, which it
regarded as “inferior” but still integrated into what kabbalists considered to be the bigger picture.

Another pun worth mentioning in this context, quoted by Moshe Idel in his book “Absorbing
Perfections” refers to the explanation given by Rabbi Haim Yosef David Azulay (who lived between
1724-1806 in Eretz Israel) that he who believes in the literal sense of the Bible only is a fool, as
proven by the very permutation of the consonants of the word peshat: tipesh. Moreover, without the
last letter, (s), pardes becomes pered, stupid. Not by chance from the four sages who entered the
Pardes only Rabbi Akiva, who corresponds to the kabbalistic (sod) level of interpretation, came out
safely. This seems to imply that for the kabbalists this was the least dangerous type of exegesis, while
the other three involved various perils.

Still, it must not be inferred that this was a recommendation for the mass use of kabbalistic methods,
but on the contrary, a warning in regard to their elitist nature. The kabbalistic way may have been
the most secure but getting there implied dangers that should not have been overlooked. As Moshe
Idel puts it (in Primordial Wisdom: The Philosopher’s Quest),

“there is danger, but Judaism is seen as trying to cope with the problem of the dangerous ideal.
The ideal may be dangerous, but it is to be cultivated. This formulation becomes a way of

24
according to Gershom Scholem, it seems that Moses de Leon was the first to provide a kabbalistic analysis of the text, in a book
with this very title – Pardes – written before 1290, later to be lost [Scholem 1996, 67]
25
Idel, Polirom 2004, 451
balancing ritualistic approaches against the explosion of metaphysical speculations that might
endanger the observance of the ritual”.

An additional significance of Pardes is related to the correspondence established between the four
levels of interpretation and the four worlds of the creation process in Lurianic kabbalah. According
to this outlook, peshat corresponds to Asiyah, the world of action, remes to Yetsirah, the world of
formation, derash to Beriyah, the world of creation and sod to Atzilut, the world of emanation.
Naturally, the omission of one of Torah’s senses leads to a failure or malfunction at the
corresponding cosmic level. This shows once again how important it was for the kabbalist to go
through ALL the four levels of interpretation, which means that the Pardes system of exegesis was
conceived like a ladder, or, as Idel calls it, a scala mentis ad Deum.

In this outlook, the hermeneutical reading of the Torah was the way to the divine: by progressively
immersing in the depths of the sacred text, at the core of which laid one of God’s manifestations, the
mystic thought he could understand the dynamics of the celestial realm and thus literally experience
the divine. Such exegesis was not just a method to find new significances in the Torah but sometimes
the very aim of the kabbalist’s endeavor: to meet the ultimate reality.

Interpretations of the Pardes legend in Moshe Idel’s works

In his lecture on Primordial Wisdom: The Philosopher’s Quest Idel underlines that to Maimonides
(Moses ben Maimon, Rambam, 1135-1204, who lived in Spain, Morocco, Eretz Israel and Egypt)
the wisdom of Adam was perfect philosophy, which was lost but could be retrieved under certain
circumstances by some outstanding masters, like Rabbi Akiva.

In this outlook, to be in Paradise is to be a philosopher. Philosophy is seen as perfection in the

present; Paradise as perfection in the past and in the future. The ideal of philosophy is therefore to
exist in continuous contemplation and as a result the Fall is interpreted as man’s inability to stay in
the state of perfect philosophy.

The Pardes story, however, seems to point out a path of return, and to suggest a view of Judaism as
a project of return to perfect philosophy, showing both techniques and possible problems. As such
the Pardes is linked to speculation: it is something to be known, something that must be grasped
clearly, rather than a mystical experience.

Maimonides even states that it is not proper to walk in the Pardes without being filled with bread
and meat, i.e., without having had a solid Rabbinic education which implies knowledge of what is
permitted and forbidden, because this gives composure to the mind. In Maimonides’ view, Jewish
law is a way of achieving certain stability, a mastery of lust and imagination. Starting from
Maimonides’ philosophical interpretation, Abraham Abulafia (1240- 1291, born in Spain), the best-
known representative of ecstatic Kabbalah, who actually devised not four, but seven levels of reading
the sacred text (Idel, Polirom 2004, 453), developed the thesis that the state of the Primordial Man
is always accessible to us, always available at any time – as, too, is the sin of Adam.

From this perspective it may be stated that we all are constantly in Paradise, whether we realize it or
not. Neither the Expulsion nor the Paradisal state are seen as historical events but rather as structures
of experience open to each of us. By studying and obeying Torah, these typical experiences and
states may be actualized at any moment.
History becomes irrelevant. Nevertheless, this does not mean that anyone can undertake such
enterprise. This outlook does not rule out danger, which continues to lurk, like in all the other
approaches. It is rather an attempt to balance ritualistic approaches against the explosion of
metaphysical speculations that might endanger the observance of the ritual in rabbinic Judaism.
(Incidentally it should be noted that, as Moshe Idel shows [Idel 2000, 272-300], Abraham Abulafia
thought that the curse in the literal sense was blessing in the hidden sense and the curse in the hidden
sense was blessing in the literal one, granting negative, even demonic, connotations to the latter. To
him (and others like him), the literal meaning remained the patrimony of the many and the esoteric
one the patrimony of the chosen few).

The kabbalistic interpretation of the Pardes did not stop here.

As Moshe Idel argues26 the kabbalists were less interested in establishing a unified theology than
they were in finding secret interpretations that would attract many different kinds of people. Their
intention was not so much to involve the masses in mystical speculations, but to allow for diversity
among the elite.

That is why, at the beginning of the 13th century, an interesting shift occurred in the view of a number
of kabbalists, for whom the central figure of the parable was no longer Rabbi Akiva but Ben Azzai,
the Talmudic master who died.

This outlook was based on perceiving the Pardes not as a matter (game?) of intellect, but as an
experience of the supreme light. The interpretation does not refer to an intellectual or conceptual
light, but to an experiential light and it starts from the Midrashic texts in which Adam is described
as an entity of Light and as having garments of Light, which were lost after his expulsion from Eden.

In this tradition, Adam’s basic activity in Heaven was to contemplate the Light, the Shekhinah. “The
Light of the Shekhinah” is a key term in these texts, for both Paradise and Pardes are seen as full of
light. The essential element that Adam loses with the Fall is the possibility to contemplate
(experience) this Light.

Therefore the restoration of the Adamic state through the ability to contemplate the Light becomes
the very purpose of the mystic’s experience. Evidently, this outlook is particularly applicable to
ecstatic – Merkabah – mysticism.

Read from this perspective the text would sound like this: “Ben Azzai peeked and died. He gazed at
the radiance of the Divine Presence like a man with weak eyes who gazes at the full light of the
sun and becomes blinded by the intensity of the light that overwhelms him… He did not wish to
be separated, he remained hidden in it, his soul was covered and adorned… he remained where
he had cleaved, in the Light to which no one may cling and yet live” (approximate quotation from
a manuscript of an unknown author analyzed by Moshe Idel in the above-mentioned lecture).

Obviously, this portrays a radical change in the reference point. The mystic no longer contemplates
the Divine Chariot or Throne but the radiance of God (Tzvi ha-Shekhinah), a light so strong that no
one can bear it and whose vision is therefore fatal.

The term “overwhelming” is crucial to this reading of the text. If in ancient literature the mystic’s
aim was to contemplate the divine aspects from a distance, now, for the first time, appears expounded

26
in a second lecture held at the Hebrew University of Jerusalem in 1991 under the title Primordial Light: The Ecstatic’s Quest,
available online at http://www.kheper.net/topics/Kabbalah/Idel/lecture2.htm
in indubitable terms the desire to cleave to the Radiance of the Shekhinah by entering and becoming
a part of the Divine realm, in order to enjoy the divine without interruption (Moshe Idel underlines
the fact that since in the union process with the Shekhinah we are dealing with the female aspect of
God, the language of desire (“sweet radiance”, etc.) gives the experience erotic overtones [Idel
Hasefer 2004, 8]).

In this context, the death of Ben Azzai, translated by his not coming back and being “hidden away
in the place of his cleaving”, like all the pious ones whose souls are separated by death from all
concerns with the mundane world, turns from an accident into an achievement. Idel identifies here a
threefold structure: via purgativa (separation from all concerns of the lowly world), via illuminativa
and via unitiva and notes (in his lecture on The Primordial Light: The Ecstatic’s Quest) the presence
of the influence of a Neoplatonic Christian or even pagan mysticism.

This reading of the text is backed up by another writing of an unknown author of the 13th century,
which emphasizes its mystical nuance: Ben Azzai died because of the cleaving of his soul out of a
great love, his soul didn’t return because he reached a great attainment – complete union. His soul
and the Light became one, the abyss between man and God disappeared through unio mystica.

This interpretation is just another proof of the Neo-platonic influence on Jewish thought: many
kabbalists used the metaphor of “death by kiss” to express the ultimate union with the divine through
devekut, which resulted in a cataleptic state of the body (Idel, Polirom 2004, 76). Here it is interesting
to note what one of Abraham Abulafia’s anonymous disciples wrote in his book Sefer Ner Elohim:

“He commanded us to keep silent and not speak too much about them [the Sefirot], and put an
intellectual limit to our thoughts and balance our desire of love for God, so that our soul should
not get separated from our body in its great desire, and seek His lips, which pour wisdom and
love” 27

But the importance of the text is not reduced to these speculative aspects. The Talmudic Pardes is
also used as a model to which medieval mystics compare their own experiences, thus acquiring the
values of a practical recipe.

In another anonymous text written in Galilee around the year 1290, the author describes in a magnetic
metaphor the manner in which the Divine Light attracts the Light of the Soul, “Which is weak in
relation to the Divine Light”. As Moshe Idel shows, the kabbalist has this vision as a result of letter
combination techniques and seeks in the Pardes explanations to clarify his own experience.

The death of Ben Azzai thus becomes an example worth following or even a desideratum. Here we
find once again the concept of initiatory death regarded as the ultimate and supreme experience. The
kabbalists tried to develop special techniques designed to help them reach the pre-fall state of the
Primordial Man, enter again the radiance of the Shekhinah and even a certain erotic relationship with
the Divine Presence. By letter combinations, unifications and reversals of letters they invoke the
Tree of Knowledge of Good and Evil and the 10 Sefirot and they meditate together so that they may
watch each other and see to what extent the encounter with the divine radiance makes them radiate,
in their turn, the light (the image can be found in the Torah [Exodus 34:35] where it is written: “And
the children of Israel saw the face of Moses, that the skin of Moses’ face shone”).

This expectation of a corporeally observable radiance best evidences the difference between
philosophy and mysticism: for Maimonides the experience of the Pardes was mental, with no

27
quoted by Idel, Polirom 2004, 208
outward sign, for the kabbalists it was corporeal and visible; for Maimonides God was an intellect,
for the kabbalists God was radiance; for Maimonides Adam was a perfect intellect, for the kabbalists
Adam was a creature of Light; for Maimonides Paradise and Pardes were intellectual (cerebral)
states, for the kabbalists they were corporeal, sensuous, erotic, sexual and an object for practical
striving; Maimonides had no clear method, the kabbalists developed an entire series of techniques.
All these prove that far from being a tradition of mystical speculations, Kabbalah was actually one
of the purest forms of mysticism, in which extreme types of experience were sought out and
considered positive. In its turn, the theosophical and theurgical Kabbalah proposes a different
approach. If in ecstatic mysticism the mystical experience takes place in the mystic’s inner self and
does not affect the divine realm, in the theosophical and in the theurgical one the effect on the non-
human realms is deep.

In the theosophical paradigm, the Divine is not a simple entity, but a system of divine powers, and
the mystic’s entry into the Pardes influences the relationships between these divine powers. In the
theurgical paradigm, this interaction involves a struggle with the demonic realm. Although
seemingly different, the demonic and the divine share a common anthropomorphic structure. The
Sefirot are prototypes for both realms.

Therefore the mystic’s intervention aims either at inducing harmony in the Divine world or at
combating some aspect of the demonic world. From this perspective, too, the Pardes represents a
danger zone, an aspect of these realms that is too strong for most mortals.

Here, however, the accent falls on what happened to Elisha ben Abuyah, the heretical character who
“peeked and chopped the plants”. The explanation in this case would be that he was unable to
understand appropriately either the divine or the demonic world. This view is based on a kabbalistic
thesis developed around the beginning of the 13th century, which claimed that the knowledge of the
structure of the demonic is the most profound form of Kabbalah, the most recondite. The adepts of
this line wrote long lists of evil angels and described the relationships between the demonic and the
divine. This tradition, whose representative were, among others, the Kohen brothers (Isaac and
Jacob) and later Moses of Leon, held that it was a religious duty to know, and pursue knowledge of,
the demonic world so that one would not be immersed in it.

Only by knowing the evil and distinguishing it from the good can one keep it away and truly worship
God. Not by chance the parable recorded the figure of Elisha ben Abuyah under the name of Aher
(the other), as a direct reference to Sitra Ahra (the other side), the realm of evil. As relevant is the
sexual implication of the experience’s result for Elisha – the sin of being attracted to the demonic
realm is translated, in Idel’s opinion, by his sexual relation with its figures (the long line of such sins
includes Adam’s seduction by Lilith, Solomon’s 1000 wives, seen as manifestations of the demonic
powers used in the King’s occult experiences, and Balaam’s physical relation with his ass). Sexual
attraction, then, becomes an explanation of the power of the Pardes, which the mystic must
understand but not be seduced by, and immersed in. Here we should recall that the real (historical)

Rabbi Akiva was convinced that the perfect union between husband and wife, when carried out in
keeping with the Jewish ritual, was charged with theurgic significance (Idel, Hasefer 2004, 72) while
the real (historical) Ben Azzai refused to get married in order to be able to dedicate himself
exclusively to the study of the Torah, thus failing, even though he remained loyal (Idel, Hasefer
2004, 73). Evidently, the sexual explanation of Elisha’s mishap is not the only one possible. Based
on his own research on certain quotations from the Talmud, Ioan Petru Culianu concludes, in his
turn, that a possible interpretation of Elisha’s adventure is related to the legend of Enoch. Turned
into God’s scribe and registrar under the name of Metatron, Enoch preserves a human quality that is
not to be found with the other angels – having joints, he can sit. In this capacity, he may be seen by
any mystic on his way to the Throne of Glory, in the sixth heikhal.

Thus, in Culianu’s view, when Elisha raises to the heavens and sees Metatron sitting on a brilliant
throne he mistakes him for God Himself and becomes a dietist saying “perhaps – may God forgive
me! – there are two Powers” (Culianu 1998, 75). On the other hand, however, the same Culianu,
concludes (in both Culianu 1998, 165, and Culianu 1994, 164) that all the three mystics to whom
entry into Paradise was ill-fated (and it is strange to see that Culianu applies this explanation to all
the THREE mystics, since Elisha is thus in the position to have actually been allowed TWO
mistakes) actually came across the “water danger”, which the Hekhalot Rabbati places in the sixth
“palace” (as Culianu underlines [in Culianu 1996, 164], water and fire are the two constant great
dangers awaiting the mystic on his way to the Throne of Glory). They mistake for water the “pure
marble floors” of the heavenly heikhal, which look like waves, thus attracting upon themselves
God’s anger, for He does not tolerate lies and/or false judgment before Him (Babylonian Talmud,
Hagigah 14 b).

Quoting Johann Maier, Culianu identifies here an allusion to the Temple in Jerusalem, whose walls
built of colored marble looked like “sea waves” (Culianu 1998, 162). (The circle thus closed becomes
vicious – the mystical image is taken over from the physical reality, which it confirms on the
rebound). The attempt to descend into Hell to perform a rite has in most cases a negative end – the
man who descends can no longer surface. In a typological approach, the case of Rabbi Akiva, who
came out safely from this enterprise because he did not allow himself to be attracted (or distracted
from the straight path), becomes a prototype that reflects Abraham’s “descent into Egypt”, (in
mystical literature Egypt is often considered a prototype of the demonic realm), and safe return
thereof, Noah’s being saved from the flood and all the other (few) such happy-ending stories from
Adam onwards. But this interpretation operates on the rebound as well.

Thus, Samson’s biblical adventure with Delilah is quoted as an entry into the Pardes (the two meet
in a vineyard) and turned into an example for the cases with dramatic ending. Moshe Idel quotes a
treatise wrote in early 16th century by Rabbi Joseph Al-Ashqar of Tlemsen, Tzfanat Pa’aneah, in
which Samson is described as a savior, who has to enter the realm of evil, symbolized by Delilah, in
order to operate on the divine realm, represented by the Shekhinah (Idel, Hasefer 2004, 324).

On the other hand, for the kabbalists who regarded the Pardes from a theosophical perspective, the
essential aim of the mystical experience was to induce or re-induce the harmony in the Divine spheres
that had been disturbed by the Adamic sin. They had two metaphors for the Divine: that of the Tree,
and (to simplify) the anthropomorphic one of the couple in which the first nine Sefirot were the male
side and the tenth Sefira the female side. From this perspective the basic sin of Aher was to break
the connection between the two aspects of the Divine (with the plants representing the last Sefira).

Applying this symbolism backwards and considering the Pardes in the terms of Garden, it becomes
obvious that in Paradise the transgression was not eating the apple but separating it from the Tree.
By separating the fruit from the Tree, Aher (like Adam) separated aspects of the Divine from each
other thus disturbing the balance of the Divine realm in an action of the referred to as “the devastation
of the plantations”. Moreover, by affecting the Divine realm in this manner one may be inclined to
conclude that there are two different powers and come to believe in a Duality, instead of Unity (just
like Culianu underlined).

The challenge, then, of the mystical experience is to heal this rupture of the primordial times, to
restore the lost unity of the divine powers by using the Jewish ritual seen as a theurgical technique,
able to influence God. The mystical project is thus transposed into another key, being turned into an
attempt to repair the rupture in the Divine (rather than between man and God) induced by human
transgression. From this perspective Rabbi Akiva is seen as one who is able to restore the relationship
between the last two Sefirot (the ninth and the tenth) through ritualistic acts. This, in Moshe Idel’s
view, projected a certain type of sacramental value onto Jewish ritual which was absent in other
forms of Kabbalah or in Maimonides.28 Unlike in other traditions, where the individual was the
center, in these demonic or Sefirotic pursuits the focus is on repairing the cosmos by inducing a
harmonious state in all levels.

Instead of conclusion

Moshe Idel’s analysis of the Pardes story takes the reader through the most diverse types of
kabbalistic thinking but also through Maimonidean philosophy. Showing that Maimonides’ aim was
not merely to propose philosophy but to use Aristotelian psychology and metaphysics to point to
meditations on secret Judaism, and to introduce a new paradigm for understanding it, Idel underlines
that the great thinker was able to begin a tradition of interpretation (which lasted from about the 14th
to the 18th centuries) which took ritual as a means of introduction to philosophy, and which was at
the same time very close to mysticism. This interpretation fortified the place of ritual, yet put it in
its place, showing that it was not final. “It is needed, but in a way to be transcended – by the few, for
whom a higher ideal is needed, that of the Pardes” (Idel, Primordial Wisdom: The Philosopher’s
Quest).

References:

28
Idel, Pardes: From Sefirot to Demonology, third lecture held at the Hebrew University of Jerusalem in 1991, available online at
http://www.kheper.net/topics/Kabbalah/Idel/lecture3.htm
 THE FOUR WHO ENTERED THE ORCHARD29

The Rabbis taught: Four [Sages] entered the Pardes [literally "the orchard."] They were Ben
Azzai, Ben Zoma, Acher [Elisha ben Avuya, called Acher -- the other one andRabbi Akiva.

Rabbi Akiva said to them [prior to their ascension]: "Whenyou come to the place of pure
marble stones, do not say, 'Water! Water!' for it is said, 'He who speaks untruths shallnot stand
before My eyes' (Psalms 101:7)."

Ben Azzai gazed and died. Regarding him the verse states, "Precious in the eyes of G-d is
the death of His pious ones" (Psalms 116:15). Ben Zoma gazed and washarmed [he lost his

29
https://issuu.com/julianungar-sargon/docs/the_four_who_entered_the_orchard
sanity -- Rashi]. Regarding him the verse states, "Did you find honey? Eat only much as you
need, lest you be overfilled and vomit it up" (Proverbs 25:16).

Acher -- the other one- cut down the plantings [he becamea heretic].

Rabbi Akiva entered in peace and left in peace.

The four
This group of four
Entering the orchard
The very unknowing of what might emerge at the end,
Fearless but with some trepidation no doubt,
Armed with only the desire to see and behold
The Schechina, in Her pristine ness
In Her glory and beauty
Powerless over this desire

They enter fearlessly

Together, then silence.

We remain ignorant as to what actually happened inside

Were there cries and screams?
Was there silence? or noise? of pain?
Inside, during those eternal moments
Inside this orchard, this paradise
Left with only a trace

The effect of that decision recorded in legend and text

Their lives inscribed in Talmud and Zohar
And liturgy, embellished in the matrix of sacred history
Inspiring countless generations of spirit seekers
Warning others to beware

All because of that fateful decision to enter, to taste to

experience the forbidden.

These men
These four men
Never the same again.

The experience to alter their lives forever

Only one emerges unscathed,
Only one picks up where he had left off
Back to school, teaching class
The weekend over,
The trip completed,
Return-to-work status.

But what of the others?

And why?

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What really took place there?
We know little except
By all accounts
They were scarred for life
One dead, the other insane, another heresy,

This is what became of those less fortunate three.

So what did they "see" or experience
Could we speculate as to what happened?

Today drugs might do this.

Patients of mine on LSD have reported similar visions
and post-acid hallucinations lasting years.
Surely drugs can affect a person in such a way.

But I prefer an older metaphor

They saw such a trauma
They descended into such a hell
That only the demonic could have affected them so
violently.
(However we speculate can we agree it was violent?)

Four entered into Hell

Four were taken to Sheol against their will.
I mean who would want to go there voluntarily?
Surely we can surmise it was a forced migration
Transfer, deportation, and Final Solution.

Yes; let us agree it was deportation or worse a death camp

What they beheld would make three quarters of them
insane, mad, or heretical.

Four entered into Auschwitz, Belzec or Sobibor

Four entered but how many emerged whole? Only one.
Theoretically that could be the tentative meaning for this
place.

The term Paradise is then merely an expression used by

the Rabbis to hide the true character of the
trauma...lashon saginahor
A cleansing expression this "orchard" euphemistically
referring to a garden of delight

But so violent and horrific that the Rabbis spared us the

90
particulars, the facts, the trauma..
And of Akiva what happened?

Do you really think he came through ok?

Yatza beshalom?
Wait!
Listen! Fast forward!
To the culmination of his life
His martyrdom
We think so holy

But for him it was nothing compared to a living hell

The lonely survivor of this 'orchard experience'

We know about survivors and their burdens

We know about the nightmares and long-term effects
We know about Post-Traumatic Stress disorders
(DSMI, II, III, and IV-category diagnosis after all;
Officially sanctioned by the American Psychiatric
Association-therefore it exists!)

And for some

Who survive
The better strategy is psychosis
For others, self-mutilation.
(I think of Paul Celan and Primo Levi)

So the Romans raking his skin with iron combs and

crucifying him
As they burn him alive
Oh that story,
That martyrology, we read on Yom Kippur
Must be woven into this one;

The orchard on the one hand and the torture and death of
Akiva on the other.
For him this might have been less than we feel when
reading, less of a horror...
After all, he actually continues to teach his students during
the torture,
About mesirus nefesh and the Shema our doxology.

What gives him this power?

Of course
We may now understand his pain
For now he will be relieved of the living hell

91
A survivor alone without his three companions
after that so-called 'orchard experience'

Even this Roman hell is better than continuing.

Alone.

Four entered the orchard

One went mad
One committed suicide
One became heretical
And one yatza beshalom came out 'in peace'

But then could not continue to live in peace.

That is our post Holocaust Midrash our 'take'
On the Holy Rabbi Akiva

The single survivor

Four entered but in reality no one escaped Hell
Unscathed
None were the same again.

92