A REVOLUTIONARY

Of course, the greatest revolutionary was RABASH himself. He was excited, inspired. It had been a long time since I saw him like that. It was like a second birth for him. For many years he’d been dreaming of getting new, young students in that 25-30 year-old range. And here they were at last.

Picture it to yourself, dear reader. A 77-year-old RABASH, having lived all his life in a Jewish orthodox community in Bnei Brak, with all its restrictions and prohibitions, dared to accept as students a bunch of secular “heathens” from Tel-Aviv. But RABASH didn’t care. He didn’t give in to the threats, didn’t “hear” the categorical demands from his immediate environment to refuse them as students. He accepted them!

And the resistance was tremendous. Tremendous! Relatives, friends and acquaintances alike demanded that he refuse. Not a day went by without some “well-wishers” (clearly sent by some other party!) showing up at RABASH’s door and asking him to reconsider his decision, insisting that he refuse these students no matter what.

Bnei Brak didn’t want them. But RABASH wouldn’t give in.

He was a man of remarkable inner strength. And for him, any person who wanted to study the wisdom of Kabbalah was above all others.

I witnessed him making this decision for himself. He didn’t weigh what would happen, what other people would think or say. He received a group of young students—only that mattered!

RABASH was doing what no other Kabbalist had done before. He was aiming for a breakthrough.

SUCH WERE THE TIMES...

We lived in a time that wasn’t simple for Kabbalah. The wisdom had not yet been accepted by the public. People still feared all sorts of rumors and myths, and didn’t want to touch it.

Some people even covered their faces when passing by our building lest they accidentally read the sign, “ARI-Ashlag.”

No bookstore or synagogue would accept copies of The Book of Zohar with Baal HaSulam’s commentary. Not even for free.

I remember loading my car with these books and driving everywhere with them. I was met with refusal every time. “We have no place for them,” they would say. I would point at all the empty shelves. “These books cannot be kept in public view.” Once, after finally getting one place to accept them, I was about to rush back to RABASH and tell him that someone wanted The Zohar! I was on cloud nine, as if I’d just gotten a present I’d been dreaming of my whole life. But before I could even get to my car, the owner darted back outside with my pack of books and said that he’d changed his mind.

Such were the times we lived in! Today, Kabbalah is found on every corner, with oodles of materials available online. But back then, just uttering the word would get you shunned.

Around 1977-1978, before finding RABASH, I drove to this tiny basement bookstore in Jerusalem, called Kikar ha-Shabbat [Shabbat Square], which sold Kabbalah books. The owner, an old man, had extreme prices, as high as $100-150 per book at a time when most other books cost $3-4 at most. I bought the ARI’s Tree of Life for $300. When I asked him about the astronomical prices, he replied honestly that nobody buys these books out of fear. And because he couldn’t order them in bulk, he was forced to sell them individually at ten times the price.

It took a long time for this shift in attitude to happen.

Once, after about three years studying with RABASH, I had to make a copy of a key, so I popped into a hardware store in Bnei Brak. As I handed the shopkeeper the key, I watched his expression change.

The man grew pale as a ghost and recoiled from me, trembling hands thrust out as if warding me off. I stood there perplexed, but then he mumbled, “Please, I beg you, put away that... thing!” He was pointing at the book I had automatically placed on the counter. It was the ARI’s Tree of Life.

Realizing at once why he was so terrified, I snatched the book, apologized and even left the shop so as to not give him anxiety. By the way, he made the key for me very quickly..

Yes, such were the times mere four decades ago.

Such were the times. And yet, when I brought RABASH 40 young outsiders, he took them on as students.

NO COMPROMISES

He badly wanted them to stick around. It was his dream! But he wasn’t going to make any compromises, because it had to do with spiritual work.

From the very beginning, he asked me to tell them about tithing.¹

I grew nervous and tried to talk him out of it. “Rebbe,” I said. “Telling a secular guy from Tel-Aviv about tithing on day two, you might as well just tell him to get out now.”

But RABASH was unwavering. He insisted that I inform them of it.

He didn’t need their money. Simply, he couldn’t imagine how one could study Kabbalah without splitting off one tenth. For him, this was the part of the soul that was impossible to correct, so how could you not split if off?!

With my knees shaking, I told them. “Guys, this tradition dates back to antiquity. Those who have truly come for spiritual advancement have no choice but to accept it.” I didn’t know what to expect in response, but the last thing I expected was quiet agreement. For me, this was proof yet again that when it comes to spirituality, corporeal logic goes out the window. They clearly sensed where they were and who stood before them. So they didn’t resist even for a second.

But RABASH had another trial in store for them.

He said to me, “I cannot teach single men.” Here, I failed the test yet again. I thought that, for sure, they weren’t going to go for it. No way would a young guy from Tel-Aviv willingly surrender his freedom. Impossible!

Of course, for RABASH, this was yet another essential condition for a student’s advancement—being firmly tied down to the “earth.” Meaning to work, and to be married with children... Baal HaSulam didn’t allow RABASH to attend his lessons until he was married.

I knew all this, yet I thought that the times were different now, and also the souls, with lower souls having descended into the world. I was absolutely certain that the marriage condition was going to be a deal-breaker. But I told them. They listened. And they agreed.

From that day on, weddings came fast and furious.

One after the other! Sometimes we had two weddings per week. Thus they all got married. And when they all started dressing after the “local fashion” out of respect for the traditions of Bnei Brak, I realized at last that new times had arrived.

TENS

And indeed, life really took off from there.

This new Hissaron² demanded fulfillment. The new students hungrily absorbed the lesson material that RABASH taught, devouring the books and discovering true wisdom.

RABASH split them up into groups. I remember him asking me to read out their names and tell him something about each one, such as his personality and how long he’d been studying. There was nothing formal about any of it—any decision he made was deeply thought through.

He split them up in three groups, the so-called “tens” despite each having 15-16 members. (He assigned me to a ten of only 6—that was his decision.) Each ten had its own organizer. Additionally, RABASH initiated regular gatherings of friends that everyone took great care to prepare for.

IT LIVED IN HIM

While taking a walk in the park one morning, RABASH said to me:

“You need to have a talk with them before the gathering of friends. Talk to them about what it is, why we do it, how we need to organize together.”

I objected to this.

“But I don’t know how we organize. Was this ever taught to me? When we take these walks in the park, we talk about other things. I can talk to them about inner work, to some extent, about what I’ve experienced, or about things I’ve heard from you. But I know nothing about organizing a spiritual group. I’m afraid it’ll just be empty talk.”

At that, he fell deep in thought. Then I added:

“Maybe you can write something?! And I will talk about that?”

Now where would I get such a fortunate thought? Of course, we know the source. And how timely it was! I still remember the way he looked at me then... We were standing just beside a bench in the Ganey Yehoshua³ park. To this day I can find that bench with my eyes closed. RABASH took a seat on the bench and produced a pen. Another thing he always carried with him was this tiny notepad for writing down grocery lists and the like. He started twirling the notepad in his hand, so small you could barely write anything of substance in it.

I realized then that this was destiny. I could not let the chance go to waste. So I produced a pack of cigarettes, unfolded it, took out the wrapping paper and turned it white side up, then placed it on the book, The Gate of Intentions, and handed it to RABASH.

I remember it all to the smallest detail precisely because those moments were the most important of my life. And not just mine. I would say that this moment marked the beginning of a new era.

RABASH thought for a moment, literally a moment. And then he started writing. “We have gathered here to establish a society for all who wish to follow the path and method of Baal HaSulam, the way by which to climb the degrees of man and not remain as a beast…”⁴

He kept writing without stopping while I looked over his shoulder and read... All the questions began forming automatically in my head that would be furiously scrutinized before the gathering of friends. What does it mean to “gather?” What is this “method of Baal HaSulam?” What is the “degree of man?”

Meanwhile, he kept writing. “And this is why we gather here—to establish a society where each of us follows the spirit of bestowing upon the Creator.”

PREPARING FOR BLAST-OFF

RABASH’s first articles about the group were born on wrapping paper.

They lived within him, waiting for the chance to splash out.

For many years RABASH had been teaching in a small room on the edge of Bnei Brak, keeping these treasures within as he mentally prepared these articles, but hadn’t yet put them to paper. Now the time had come for them to manifest, and I happened to become an unwitting witness and initiator thereof. But the biggest thing that shocked me was that those articles were about the group!

I kept wondering one particular point. How did a man who had never really had a group have such an acute sensation of its necessity? Such conviction that only the group can lead one to contact with the Creator?

How could you look at all the drawings, diagrams and worlds in The Study of the Ten Sefirot and discern behind them such importance of friends and the group?! That, I had not expected at all. Still, RABASH persisted.

“...By which substance can one be brought to acquire a new quality that he must bestow, and that reception for self is faulty? This is against nature! ...Thus, there is but one counsel: If several individuals come together with the force that it is worthwhile to abandon self-love, but without the sufficient power and importance of bestowal to become independent, without outside help, if these individuals annul before one another...”⁵

Today I realize that this explosion had been percolating not only throughout the course of his life, but also through all of our walks, talks, scrutinies, questions he’d evoked within me, states I’d experienced and shared with him. I would ask him what was going on with me, how I should relate to it, what my reaction should be? And he would answer.

Oftentimes, as I read these articles myself or with my students, I suddenly recognized the situation that had birthed a particular article, or recollected our conversation in the park discussing that very thing.

I would share with RABASH what I had felt at the lesson or what had taken place in the group, and ask for his advice.

And he would give it. Now I see these explanations of his in these articles.

Sometimes my students tell me, “If only there was video of your lessons with him, we would be so much richer for it today.”

But no, RABASH would not have allowed it. Video was not for him. Books and articles, now these were a very familiar world to him. His father had been writing all his life, as had all the great Kabbalists throughout the generations. RABASH felt the exalted spiritual roots of written materials.

Who would know better than him the significance of letters? Of written letters in particular. The combination of forces and vectors. These letters resounded within him, combining into words, and he poured out priceless information for us in his articles.

It is written, “The Creator made the world with letters.” RABASH created a world just as the Creator had, by breathing into everything he wrote his vast desire to bring the world to bestowal, to the Creator.

SO IT BEGAN!

At the start of the following week, I requested an article for the next “gathering of friends.” This time I was smarter and came prepared with a folder of paper. He didn’t resist—he wanted to write.

He produced a new article every week.

First, he would discuss some topic with me, then he would follow his intuition, which never let him down. He felt everything, everyone, for he himself had gone through it all and absorbed every human woe and tribulation. This is why I so often hear from people who read his articles, “This is about me! How did he know?”

He knew!

One day, back at the very beginning of my studies, we were walking down the street and I began talking about some kind of injustice.

“There is so much evil in the world!”
“How is it evil?!” he replied.
“Oh, come on,” I said. “Murder, theft, violence. The world is full of such vile things.”

Still walking, he gave a casual remark.

“I’ve lived it all.”

I stopped, stunned, then asked him.

“What exactly have you lived?”
“I’ve lived as a thief and a murderer. And worse.”

I stared at him, sizing him up involuntarily. Standing before me was an old man of small stature, having worked as a blue color worker most of his life and dwelled in a religious community, shadowing Baal HaSulam. Yet, here he was, telling me that he’d been through everything in life. You look at him and can’t help but think, What has he seen aside from his own world, having never ventured outside his community, having never met anyone... He recognized that look of mine but didn’t proceed to explain.

It wasn’t until later that I realized how primitive my thoughts and comparisons had been. That it was I who hadn’t seen anything, despite my extensive traveling and all of my education, having studied bio-cybernetics and read a ton of literature. But RABASH had.

He had revealed such a level of ego within him that he had indeed lived it all. He’d been a thief, a murderer, and a rapist. All the worst, most terrible things in this world—he had discovered them all inside of him.

He would later explain to me that a person who truly carries out spiritual work discovers all of humanity within him. He accepts all the crimes, iniquities and sins of others, as his own.

“You must see before you the entire common soul,” he would say. “And, seeing the flaws of the world, you have no right to stop. You must take part in the correction. You must feel as the sinner, the thief, the murderer. To ‘dig up’ the judge within yourself, irrespective of your crime. And thus to call upon the Creator to judge and correct you. If you achieve such a state, that means you’ve solved the problem. This is what you must do every time.”

RABASH took all these sensations, discernments and discoveries, and included them in his articles. That is what makes them priceless.

WE ARE BUYING A TYPEWRITER

When I saw that RABASH wasn’t going to stop, I persuaded him to buy a typewriter, arguing that his handwriting wasn’t very clear. He readily agreed.

We drove to a store in Tel-Aviv. RABASH personally tried out all the typewriters, acting like a kid in a candy store. And the moment we got back, he sat down and began to type. From that moment on, our schedule was set in stone.

Right after our walks in the park, we returned home, I would make him coffee, and he would go up to his apartment and begin to write. I would stay downstairs where it was dark and cool, and read while I waited.

I would listen for the rhythmic clacking of the typewriter to start. Even now, as I write these words, I can hear it. Sometimes I hear it while reading the articles. There’s no music more beautiful to my ears than this Kabbalistic “music” of RABASH: clack-clack-clack...

RABASH typed with one finger, carefully fixing typos with whiteout. It was a real process for him, and he gave himself to it entirely. He followed virtually every word with a comma, as if to convey his state, indicating that each word had a purpose, that it needed to be fathomed and felt through and through, rather than rush through the reading. Thus, it took him a week to produce an article of seven to eight pages.

After a time, we purchased an electric typewriter, and RABASH really got into a groove. Not once did he change his schedule. With all that he had accumulated over the years, he couldn’t afford breaks. He was in a hurry.

KNOWING ONE’S SOUL

Some time passed, and we began reading these articles as a group at the start of the lesson. The reading would take an hour to an hour and a half. RABASH would listen with his eyes closed, his head thrown back.

He cared not only about the opinions of his students, but of our wives’ opinions, too. Upon finishing an article, he never failed to mention, “Don’t forget to hand it out to the women.” It was one of my duties to make copies of the articles and distribute them among the women through my wife. RABASH’s next question was, “Well, what did they say about the article?” He valued their opinion, probably even more than that of the men. And so, once a month he would produce an article based precisely on women’s questions.

Today, nearly 40 years later, I can see the changes that RABASH’s articles had made in me, in his students, in everyone around him.

Even though initially the articles seemed poorly written or ungrammatical, with parts that felt disconnected and incoherent, that was only because we didn’t see the precise trajectory of the forces of the soul, which evolves precisely along this trajectory. We did not know our own soul. But RABASH did.

And the articles had done their job. I began witnessing miracles firsthand. On one occasion, as we were reading an article, a door suddenly opened and a stranger walked into the study hall, poured himself a cup of coffee and took a seat without batting an eye. Not ten minutes passed when the door opened again. Another stranger walked in and did the exact same thing. Seeing my bewilderment, RABASH leaned over and whispered, “The first man has been gone for 10 years, and the other for 15...”

As we started reading the articles, old students of RABASH that had left the path years ago suddenly began to return, as if hearing their call. And they behaved perfectly naturally, as if they had come out for a quick smoke or a one-day break instead of a 10-15-year absence.

And all because these articles were the “manuscript” of man’s soul.

What does the soul long for? Care for others. And RABASH cared for everyone.

CARING FOR OTHERS

RABASH would say to me, “If you want to escape the darkness, start caring for others.” This was his prayer.

I saw this firsthand in 1982 during the first Lebanese war. RABASH would turn on the radio at the top of every hour to get the latest news, no matter where he was: at home, in the car, or even during a lesson. He wasn’t interested in commentary, but only in the developments on the ground.

He wouldn’t let go off the radio for as long as the war in Lebanon lasted.

It all looked rather peculiar to the occasional strangers that turned up at the lesson. How was it that he would pause the lesson on the Torah, in the middle of studying such exalted things, to listen to the news?!

I even remember one of the Haredim [ultra-orthodox Jews] unleash his anger at RABASH. “How could this be? We’re not supposed to listen to the radio at all, never mind stopping the lesson for it!”

RABASH gave the following answer. “If your own children were on the front lines, would you be concerned with what was going on there?! I am certain that your heart would be there! But of course! You would turn on the radio and listen because you would feel that that is where your destiny lies. Now, our whole army is there, and they are all my children. And I feel great anguish and concern for them.”

That was a good lesson for me. I realized how a Kabbalist fosters a special affection for his people, how he suffers and tries to be with the people in all their woes, in all the trials and tribulations that may befall them.⁶

UNEXPECTEDLY, THE ZOHAR

It was September of 1983. It was evening and I was rushing somewhere down a street in Bnei Brak. Suddenly, my eyes caught a sign on the wall: “Ashlag has died.” I froze, my knees buckling. Which Ashlag?! I dashed to the wall and read the first name: Shlomo. I realized then who had died: Shlomo Benyamin Ashlag, RABASH’s younger brother.

I rushed to RABASH’s house and found him sitting at his desk. From the doorstep, I asked him what we’re going to do, expecting him to answer, “We’re going to sit Shiva.”

His answer was different. “We’re not going anywhere. We’re going to stay here and study.”

That marked the beginning of an extraordinary seven-day period that would turn the whole world upside down.

For seven days straight, we were alone. Nobody came to RABASH, and we didn’t go anywhere. He revealed to me what we had never studied in the group before: Introduction of the Book of Zohar by RASHBI [Rabbi Shimon Bar Yochai], also known as the crown (Keter⁷) of The Book of Zohar.

RABASH said, “If this book is revealed to someone, the whole Zohar is revealed to him.” It was his own decision to study this introduction specifically. And so he opened the book and began to explain.

These seven days were out of this world! It wasn’t that RABASH explained more than he usually did, no. He didn’t change his usual method, constantly stressing the importance of making the effort to hold the intention, especially with The Zohar being the Segula⁸... But the atmosphere he created was such that I feared missing even a single word.

That is not something one can convey in a book. As I sat there, slack-jawed, I sensed myself “ripening.” Like a piece of fruit, thus far green and useless, finally getting some fertilized soil, nourishment from the rain, and a bit of sun. You cannot yet understand what exactly is happening, but you sense that you are transforming. And you’re ready to give up food and sleep, to sacrifice everything for this essential path you have been led to by RABASH and The Book of Zohar...

“In that hall, vast treasures are hidden, piled onto one another. In that hall are tightly shut gates, sealing access to the light. And there are 50 of them...”

RABASH explained. “The gates refer to the vessel, the desire to receive the light.”

“In those gates, there is one lock and a narrow place into which to fit the key.”

To see the lock in the gates is to realize that the light can be received only by bestowing. And when you try to bestow, you realize how narrow this place really is, like the eye of a needle. And that getting to this lock, this entrance to spirituality, is far from simple. You must get right up to it, without deviating by even an inch, and fit the key in the hole... The key is our intention, and opening the lock refers to observing the commandment—giving contentment to the Creator.

In his time, RABASH took notes of Baal HaSulam’s explanations. Those notes went on to become the foundation for Shamati.

Over the course of these seven days, I tried to take notes of RABASH’s explanations, and those notes became my eighth book, The Zohar: annotations to the Ashlag commentary. I have no presence in that book whatsoever. I had tried my very best not to add anything from me. The book contains only RASHBI and RABASH.

That was how we spent those unforgettable seven days. And when they ended, RABASH said, “Now I need some time alone.”

And he left for Tiberias.