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CHAPTER 4
Teshuva
The Torah Koan of King David’s Paradox
With the start of the Jewish month of Elul (one month before Rosh HaShanah) and continuing until Shemini Atzeres (the 8th day after the seven days of Succot and coinciding with Simchat Torah) there is a tradition to recite Psalm 27 at the end of the prayer sessions.[1] The Midrash relates that the first verses of this Psalm “Of David: God is my light and my salvation, whom shall I fear?" alludes to the High Holy Days and Succot: God is my light on Rosh HaShanah, and is my salvation on Yom Kippur. “He will hide me in His shelter (succah)…” (verse 5) on Succot. Because of this allusion, we say this psalm in the period before the High Holy Days, beginning with the month of Elul through the end of Succot. This psalm is recited 52 days in all (40 days up to Yom Kippur and then another 12 days till the end of the eighth day after Succot)[2].
In the last two verses King David, the traditional author of this psalm (and of the Book of Psalms in general), writes, “ If it were not for the fact (“lulay”) that I believed that I would see the goodness of God in the Land of the Living…[I would have given up hope]. Hope in God, strengthen yourself and He will give you courage; and hope in God”.
Strange Dots
There is something unusual about the Hebrew word lulay, meaning, “If it were not for the fact… or “if wasn’t so”. This word has two dots written above two of the letters.[3] In the actual scroll of Tehillim (the Book of Psalms) these dots must be placed on the parchment by the scribe. Otherwise, the halachic validity of the entire Book of Psalms is called into question. The phenomena of marks being placed above and/or below letters in the Torah is unusual, but not unique. It actually occurs 15 times throughout the Tanach: 10 times in the Five Books, 4 times in the Prophets yet only once throughout the eleven books of the Holy Writings. The one time that markings appear on a word is here at the end of Psalm 27 on the word lulay.
Now, the word lulay has four letters, lamed, vav, lamed, aleph. It is the first and last letters that have the dots upon them. These two letters – lamed and aleph – spell the Hebrew word lo, meaning no or not so. Concerning these dots the Talmud transmits a brief, veiled explanation: “King David spoke before the Holy One: ‘Master of the Universe, I am sure that you will pay a good reward to the righteous in the world to come, but I do not know whether I will have a share in it’. He was afraid some sin would cause his exclusion.” [4] King David is covertly saying, “I do not believe that I will see the goodness of God in the Land of the Living (the Next World).
Well, King David, which is it? He seems to be having a machloket – a classical rabbinical argument -- with himself! The qashe question is that on one hand, he states with certainty -- “ If it were not that I believed… “ yet, on the other hand he reveals that, “I do not believe… “. “When the saints go marching in… “, will he be among the numbered in the Land of the Living or not? The answer is that both are true. David is not arguing with himself and he is not in a state of doubt, rather he and the sages that came after him are directing us toward a paradoxical “answer” that is a dialectical dance between these two truths. What King David is envisioning in a higher state of consciousness contains both realities; yet it is more than both. King David’s apparent indecision and dispute with himself is an intentional Kabbalah koan.
The Coherent Superposition
In order to appreciate the koan-like meditation embedded within the formula of “Lulay he’emonti..”, as well as in the nature of hundreds of ancient rabbinical disputes, we can use another model this time a tool from modern physics. It is called the coherent superposition.
A coherent superposition is a term used in quantum logic as a means to grasp some of the paradoxical phenomena of quantum mechanics. Classical logic allows for something to be only A or B, not both. Quantum logic, on the other hand, allows (and requires) certain aspects of reality, for example light radiation, to consist of both particles and waves (which are completely opposite in nature). This has been an accepted fact in science now for a hundred years.
A "superposition" is one thing (or more) superimposed upon another. For example, in photography a double exposure is a superposition of one photograph positioned onto another. What you now have is a mixture of two things, yet it can still be broken down into its separate components. A coherent superposition, however, is not simply a composite of one thing superimposed upon another. It is a separate thing-in-itself. It cannot be separated into its components any more that a dog which is half Collie and half German Shepherd can be separated into its Collie "component" and its German Shepherd "component." In fact, a coherent superposition is a thing in itself, which is as distinct from its components as its components are from each other.
Pure experience is never restricted to merely two possibilities. Our analytical conceptualization of whatever it is in question is either "this" or "that", but such an appearance (which often itself passes under the name of "experience") is caused by assuming that experience is bound by the same rules as symbols. In the world of symbols and analytical thought (which processes through symbols) everything is either black or white. Even a "gray area" of understanding in between the black and white is often only a mixture borrowed from its distinct components. In the world of experience there are many more alternatives. The question then, is how can experience be communicated if there is no classical representation for it? The answer is that experience cannot be transmitted. Direct experience can only be directly experienced by the person himself.[5]
The model of the coherent superposition casts much needed light on the machloket. A machloket is a rabbinical argument or dispute that is in many ways the backbone of the Talmud and even mystical literature. The machloket, however, is much more than an argument or dispute over personal opinions. This methodology is actually a mental-spiritual tool that has been carried for millennia within the heart and soul of Jewish existence.
The word machloket means to separate into parts from the Hebrew root chalak -- to divide. Chalak, while signifying division, also means to make smooth, i.e. to make void of any distinguishing features, thus signifying a united whole. The process of breaking down and de-structuring (“arguing”) that the rabbis throughout the Oral Tradition are so passionately involved in, however, is in order to re-structure and reorganize the parts of our logical thinking into direct experience. Rabbinical consciousness is not this side of the machloket alone, nor is it that side of the machloket alone either and yet, it is not simply both together. The combined whole is greater ('super-positioned') than the sum of the individual “opinions” or “uncertainties”.
Remember, with the Kabbalah Koan the rule of thumb is that it’s not so much what you are looking at but from where you are looking. By consciously applying the methodology of machloket - even within oneself - a unique mode of unification is revealed to the bifurcated parts of reality. From this inner Torah perspective reward versus retribution, this world versus the next world and the human perspective versus the divine perspective are no longer simple dualities, but vortices of awesome power and wonderment.
The Kingdom Has Nothing Of Her Own
King David (also a rabbi and kabbalist) is having an argument with himself, but it is a Kabbalah Koan in the form of a machloket. David has mapped out a mystical aspect of his consciousness by generating a coherent superposition for us to follow. The rabbis of the Talmud are teaching us the “dance steps” to enter into the spiritual world of King David. He knows and he doesn’t know?! No! Rather, his simultaneous modes of knowing/not knowing are a more sophisticated mode of knowing. King David has transcended the realm of human knowledge and entered Divine Knowledge. This paradoxical state of reality is the essence of King David, the archetype and vehicle (“chariot” in Biblical and Rabbinical language) for the Godly attribute and sefira of Malchut/Kingdom. One of the axioms of malchut is that, as the tenth sefira, she contains and reveals all that is above her yet; she has nothing of her own. “Malchut, ain la me’atzmah kloom”. She knows all and yet, knows nothing! David is known as “the small one” and “the poor one” who lies at the lowest rung of creation and yet he is also ascends to the supernal heights in the mystery of the Crown of Creation.
King David’s dilemma is also our dilemma. His encoded formulation of “lulay” is a paradoxical expression of his crowning humility, a repentant, soaring spirit grounded in both the ethico-psychological as well as in the spiritual-kabbalistic. While this is a model for us to emulate all year long it is a message especially appropriate for the month of Elul and the Days of Awe when we take upon ourselves the mystery of the yoke of the Kingdom of Heaven. For this King David left us another clue to enter into the secret of malchut: the four letters of lulay backward spell the Hebrew month Elul.
[1] The Mishna B'rura writes that we begin saying Psalm 27 with the start of Elul, and continue until Shemini Atzeres.(There are varying customs as to when during prayers it is said, and at which prayers it is said.)
[2] There is another hidden path to follow here. 52, along with 26, 63 and 72 are the primary values or permutations for the Tetragrammaton, the Four letter Name of God. The Name of 52 is the lower feminine associated with malchut, see further.
[3] Maharsha on Talmud Berachot 4a also quoted in the Aitz Yosef. But see the Minchat Shai. On Tehellim 27.
[4] Talmud Berachot 4a
[5] The Dancing Wu-Li Masters, Gary Zukav
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