This is  a report  on a series of lectures given
  by Moshe  Idel at  the University  of Washington
  (Seattle) about  a year  ago.   I  have  divided
  report into three posts, one for each lecture.

  These are  not verbatim  transcripts:   they are
  summaries of  the sort  that might  be  made  by
  anyone from  notes made during the lecture.  Not
  everything is  included, and  most of  what Idel
  said is  summarized.   I have  tried to indicate
  where I  missed things,  and what I missed.  The
  initial material  is from  the  flier  that  was
  passed out to everyone before the lectures.

  Moshe Idel  is in  no  way  responsible  for  my
  reports of his lectures.  I have done my best to
  be as  accurate as I could.  At the same time, I
  should hope  that  I'm  not  infringing  on  his
  copyright by reporting what he said.  --Such are
  the mysteries of the copyright law!






            THE SAMUEL & ALTHEA STROUM
                  LECTURESHIP IN
                  JEWISH STUDIES

                    Moshe Idel

          PARDES:THE QUEST FOR SPIRITUAL
               PARADISE IN JUDAISM



                     April 16
    Primordial Wisdom: The Philosophers' Quest

                     April 18
      Primordial Light: The Ecstatics' Quest

                     April 22
      PARDES: Between Sefirot and Demonology

  The Core   of  the "Pardes"  Tradition:  Tosefta
  Hagigah 2:3-4

  Four entered   the  Orchard (Pardes): Ben Azzai,
  Ben Zoma,  Akher and Rabbi Aqiva. One peeked and
  died; one peeked and was smitten; one peeked and
  cut down  the shoots;  one ascended  safely  and
  descended safely.

  Ben  Azzai   peeked  and  died.  Concerning  him
  Scripture says:   "Precious  in the  eyes of  he
  Lord is  the death  of His  loyal ones" (Ps. 16.
  15).

  Ben Zoma  peeked and was smitten. Concerning him
  Scripture says:  "If you  have found  honey, eat
  only your  fill lest   you become filled with it
  and vomit" (Prov.  25:16).

  Akher     peeked  and   cut  down   the  shoots.
  Concerning him  Scripture says: "Do not let your
  mouth bring  your flesh  to sin,  and do not say
  before   the angel  that it  is  an  error;  why
  should God  become angry at your voice, and ruin
  your handiwork" (Eccl. 5:5).

  Rabbi  Aqiva   ascended  safely   and  descended
  safely.   Concerning him  Scripture says:  "Draw
  me, let  us run  after you, the King has brought
  me into His chambers" (Song I:4).

Lecture I:  Primordial Wisdom:  The Philosophers'
                      Quest
         Tuesday 16 April 1991, 8:00 pm.

  [This is a precis summary; reporter's comments
  are in square brackets; otherwise text should be
  taken as an attempt to transcribe the gist of
  what the speaker actually said.  The result is a
  rather dry, compressed text; typographical
  devices have been used to break it up and make
  it more readable.  Some of these may not
  transpose well to Net text.  I have tried to
  regularize the spellings of Hebrew terms, but
  I'm afraid I've probably let a number of them
  vary all over the map.]

  [The first lecture was something of a Society
  event; there was quite a collection of The
  Better Sort, who actually toughed it out through
  much of the first lecture, if only for the sake
  of the reception afterward.  Idel's lecture (in
  thoroughly accented English) made fewer
  concessions than one might imagine to a non-
  specialist audience.  These lectures are usually
  edifying cultural events, but Idel used the
  opportunity to go over material he was working
  up for a book.  imposing countenances, who had a
  reception for themselves and the speaker
  afterward.]


First, some general observations in an attempt to
locate the Pardes legend in its context.

1:  Biblical and Rabbinic Judaism were exoteric in
nature:  Judaism was seen as being open, to both
the elite and the vulgus [the crowd, common
people, hoi polloi] on the same basis.  The idea
was that the knowledge and practice were to be
spread, and could be spread, to all levels of the
Jewish nation, and that study of the Torah was
open to all.  Religious life was not regarded as
dangerous.

2.  This might seem like belaboring the obvious,
but it was not obvious if seen in the context of
contemporary cults and religions, in either the
world of early Judaism (with the nature religions
of neighboring nations) or in the Hellenistic
world (with its mystery religions).  Judaism
insisted on rules binding on all members, and on
public rites, as exemplified by the need for a
quorum to legitimize certain rites.  It was
collective, group-oriented, and "nomian," [cf.
"antinomian"] that is, oriented toward practicing
a nomos, i.e., the Torah.  The attitude toward the
Commandments was summed up in the saying, "You
shall live by them."

3.  Thus, in a sense, that Judaism was relatively
egalitarian [the speaker actually said
"equalitarian"].  The Law was (in principle)
available to and incumbent upon everyone, and the
Law, the nomos, was the standard.  Religious
practice was collective, public, non-sectarian,
and not dangerous.

  This then is how one can describe the first
phases of Judaism, the Biblical and what might be
called the Classical (i.e. Rabbinic-Midrashic)
phases.

  But there were also other types of Judaism,
cultivated in smaller circles, as exemplified by
the Hekhaloth literature.  These involved
contemplation of the Divine vehicles, or the
Divine stature, and involved non-Halakhic
techniques for transcending common experiences in
favor of achieving a strong but dangerous result:
the experience or vision of the Merkavah, or of
the Divine body or glory.  One finds these efforts
expressed in some very ancient texts, which also
link them with dangers and the paying of a high
price.  These efforts lead to awful [or aweful]
encounters with angels; their result is the
experience of a tremendum.  It seems to have been
less than delightful, and it was reserved for the
very few.It is presented in terms that constitute
both the statement of an ideal and a warning
against embarking on a quest for it.

  One of the key exemplary texts is the account of
the four sages, the four upright persons, who
entered the Pardes, the Orchard or Garden, all but
one of whom were severely damaged by the
experience despite their excellent qualities.
  This cannot be taken as a historical document,
despite the fact that these four did live at
approximately the same time.  This is not a report
of historical events; it should be taken as a
collection of traditions about the effects of
entering the Pardes.  Two results were positive:
one person died, but remained loyal; one (Rabbi
Aqiva) remained safe.  Two results were negative:
one person went mad; the other became a heretic.
  Instead of reading this as a biographical
account, we should read it as a typological
account, one describing types of experiences and
the types of effects those experiences can have.
>From its first appearance, this crucial text was
not historical, but exemplary.

  This text is used in different ways in different
settings.  In mystical literature, it is used to
point out dangers that can befall the mystic.  In
Talmudic-Midrashic sources, it is used to point
out the dangers and achievements that are related
to speculations, rather than to experiences.  The
interpretation of the account depends on the
context in which it is used; thus it is a mistake
to try to establish a single "genuine" meaning
common to all versions.

  This account is, then, a parable whose
significance is not explicated, as in Kabbalah:
the Pardes is an unexplained parable for an
unrevealed secret.  There is a crucial vagueness
here, and one must make the assumption that this
sort of vagueness does not represent a defeat but
an opportunity - to introduce new meanings to an
open text, as in Umberto Eco's account of reading
texts as open texts. [Cf. Umberto Eco, The Open
Work.]  The Pardes be comes a generalized metaphor
for the danger zones of religious experience, seen
as something which is good for the few, but
pernicious for others.

  The Pardes story, then, has been (re)interpreted
in a variety of directions; here, we are
interested in patterns of interpretation proposed
in the Middle Ages (though the history of the
interpretation of the story could be continued
onward from there).

Today, we talk about Maimonides and the
      philosophical tradition.
Next:  about the ecstatic tradition.
Last:  about (a) the Divine Sefiroth and (b) the
      encounter with the demonic.

  In all three streams of interpretation, the
vagueness of the basic story contributed to the
richness of the resulting interpretations.

  After the Classical (Rabbinic) period, Judaism
underwent two major changes, one of which was its
transformation into an esoteric religion (at least
as understood by some elite masters), a religion
having two levels.  An esoteric understanding of
Judaism was a shared feature of various
traditions:  the Kabbalah, the classical
philosophical schools (e.g. Maimonides), and the
Hasidi Ashkenaz and other medieval mystical
groups.  This move involves [though the speaker
did not overtly label it, the second change] the
atomization of the collective or the group.  The
group is important as a mystical tool in some
forms of Kabbalah, but it plays a restricted role.
The core aim of personal redemption, or the
achievement of individual perfection, moved to the
forefront.  To understand the underlying secrets,
and to behave in accordance with them:  this was
crucial to the Jewish elite in the middle ages.
It was a cult of individual attainment, which
involved the reading of its sources as secret
messages hidden in canonical scriptures, messages
connected to the goal of salvation.
  There were two models for salvation in those
scriptures:  salvation as attaining the End, or as
returning to the Origin.  Thus the effort to
obtain salvation meant either hastening the end
(collectively, this involved messianism), or
reaching back to a lost paradise that had been
existing since the beginning.  This is why the
concept of Paradise is important in understanding
the meaning of the Pardes, even though they were
not originally as closely connected is it might
seem.

  "Pardes" actually means an orchard.  The actual
term for "Paradise," in the sense of the Garden of
Eden, was Gan Eden, which in the Septuagint was
translated by the Greek word for Paradise
[deriving originally from Persian], from which
there was a backward linkage to the Hebrew word
Pardes.  The two ideas, originally different, came
to explain or amplify each other.  Thus, the
dangers associated with Gan Eden [the angel with
the flaming sword] and Pardes also converged:
both came to represent dangerous ideals, and ideal
dangers.
  The Pardes story then came to have as a subtext
the story of Paradise (Gan Eden).  It became a
common effort of medieval commentators to explain
the story of Paradise by means of the story of
Pardes.  The attempt to escape ritual and return
to Paradise was a threat to Judaism as a religion
[i.e., as a religion based on ritual and the Law];
thus, it could not be proposed openly as a goal.
Any attempt to enter Pardes then was an entry into
a dangerous zone.  Classical Judaism was not
escapist:  that is, it did not involve an attempt
to transcend history.  The transcendental ideal
could stand as an ideal for the few, but it was an
ideal that was dangerous to (or if adopted by) the
many; it thus had to be reserved to the few to
stop escapist religious trends.

  Maimonides' interpretation, in summary, took
perfect philosophy as the wisdom of Adam, lost but
retrievable by some (perfect) persons, e.g., R.
Aqiva.  To be in Paradise, from this point of
view, was to be a philosopher.  Philosophy is
perfection in the present; Paradise is perfection
in the past and in the future.  The ideal of
philosophy is to exist in continuous
contemplation. When the Primordial Man fell:  he
was [or became] unable to stay in the state of
perfect philosophy.
  The Pardes story, however, points out a path of
return, and suggests an analysis of Judaism as a
project of return to perfect philosophy.  It
points out both techniques and possible problems.
  The first part of Maimonides major Halakhic work
is where he explains the meaning of Pardes - but
of course, since he was a Rabbi, he doesn't
explain it openly.  He mentions that it is a
matter of the [four?] key "themes dealt with in
the preceding chapters," leaving the reader to
select which of the many themes are the key
themes.  Though all four of the characters in the
story were great men of Israel, not all had the
capacity to grasp the subject clearly.  For him,
then, the Pardes is linked to speculation:  it is
something to be known, something that must be
grasped clearly, rather than a mystical
experience.  Maimonides states that it is not
proper to walk in the Pardes without being filled
with bread and meat, i.e., knowledge of what is
permitted and forbidden, i.e., without having had
a solid Rabbinic education.  Why is this?  Because
knowledge of these things gives composure to the
mind.  Maimonides presents Jewish law as a way of
achieving a certain stability, a mastery of lust
and imagination.  The Commandments are a sine qua
non, the basis for the requisite composure.
  The Law, then, gives one the possibility of
calming the mind, of mastering imagination and
lust, in order to be able ... to study Aristotle.
By which he meant, to study the Physics and
Metaphysics.
  This study has two major dangers.  One is the
cognitive or classical or Aristotelian:  a
misunderstanding of physics and metaphysics due to
imaginative distortion of reality.  One's
understanding [or the clarity of one's
understanding] can be spoiled by one's [non-
rational] inclinations.
  There is also the Platonic danger:  the
political implications better not understood by
the masses, as in Book l [Book XII] of the
Metaphysics.

Not all of the four Masters, then, were calm
enough, educated enough, to grasp Aristotelian
metaphysics.

  There are two ways of understanding Maimonides'
position here:  one exoteric, the other esoteric.
  The exoteric understanding would take the
historical Adam as the perfect philosopher,
brought down into a fallen state by the last
remnants of desire and fantasy.  Thus our current
condition of isolation from philosophic truth
would be the historical result of Adam's fall.
  The esoteric reading, however, is that the state
of the Primordial Man is always open to us, always
available at any time - as, too, is the sin of
Adam.  In principle, at least.  Kafka has an
interpretation of the expulsion from Paradise that
can be taken as a key to the esoteric reading of
Maimonides' position.  According to that
interpretation, the Expulsion from Paradise is
final, and life in this world is irrevocable.  It
is eternal in nature.  [I.e., it is an event "in
eternity," rather than in history.]  At the same
time we are continuously in Paradise, whether we
realize it or not.  Thus neither the Expulsion nor
the Paradisal state are historical events:  they
are structures of experience open to each of us.
This is also, by the way, the Kabbalistic
interpretation developed by Abulafia, who was the
first to treat the Pardes as an ongoing
experience.  His interpretation was very similar
to Kafka's.  "Anyone who enters Pardes has to
enter in peace and exit in peace."

  This spiritualistic reading, that the Pardes is
not a matter of history but is open to anyone,
proposes a spiritualistic typology, a scheme of
typical experiences or states that can be
actualized at any time.  History becomes
unimportant.  By studying Bible, Talmud, Kabbalah,
philosophy, we become aware of what can happen in
experience.
  This reading seems to do justice to certain
passages in Maimonides about people "of the rank
of R. Aqiva."  History disappears:  The Bible,
Talmud, Aristotle - all speak about inner
experiences related only to the elite because they
are dangerous, but which are to be pointed out to
the masses to orient them, to give them the sense
that Judaism is more than its ritual.
  This approach still assumes that there is
danger, but Judaism is here 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
balancing ritualistic approaches against the
explosion of metaphysical speculations that might
endanger the observance of the ritual.
  The aim is not merely to propose philosophy but
to use Aristotelian psychology and metaphysics to
point to meditations on secret Judaism, to
introduce a new paradigm for understanding
Judaism.  Thus, Maimonides was able to begin a
tradition of interpretation (which lasted from
about the 14th to the 18th centuries) which took
ritual as means of introduction to philosophy.
This interpretation fortifies the place of ritual,
yet puts it in its place, shows that it is 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.

  Next time, we talk not about philosophic
speculation but about ecstatic experience, the
encounter with a terrible Light, the Primordial
Light.

                    QUESTIONS

Question:  The aim is to master the corporeal,
      which if not understood will distort one's
      grasp of reality?  Then for Maimonides there
      was a specific absolute reality?
Answer:  Yes.  He believed a certain metaphysics
      was true.  His was not a modern,
      Heideggerian philosophy.  For him, God was
      the sum of the intelligibilia, as was the
      case for other medieval philosophers.  God
      was taken as the great intelligence.  There
      was a negative theology, but there was also
      a positive theology.

Question:  What about the Pardes story and the
      Ari?
Answer:  A very complex issue - and another story.

Question:  Kafka wrote about Maimonides-
A:  Not about Maimonides, but Genesis.
Q:  Genesis then.  If the expulsion is eternal...
A:  We are expelled all the time from Paradise,
      but it is here.  We are out and in at the
      same time.  It is a matter of each of us.
      That is why the Fall is not final.

Q:  The Halakha becomes then a means - is it time-
      bound?  May there be other means at other
      times for Maimonides?
A:  Halakha remains necessary all the time.  It is
      not like a ladder.  Desires are always
      present.  Halakhic discipline is not simply
      preliminary:  it is needed all the time - it
      too is eternal. [Cf. the Great Chain of
      Being, or Crowley's understanding of
      initiatory hierarchy.]

Q:  Why is this in the Mishne Torah, not in the
      Guide?
A:  To Maimonides, the code of behavior is an
      introduction to the Pardes.  He starts with
      the Pardes, only then to go on to talk about
      the Law.  The Pardes is integral to the
      Mishne  Torah.
Q:  What then does the RamBam have to say about
      the Messiah?
A:  There is only one hint - Perfect Philosophy is
      Paradise, personal salvation.  Each of us
      then is his own Messiah, and we don't need
      another Messiah - as individuals.  As a
      collective, it is another story.  The
      Messiah is needed to embody a certain
      political, social, et cetera, state.
Q:  And Halakha is a mechanism to reach that
      experience?
A:  Yes.

Q:  What about the discussion of the Castle in the
      Guide?
A:  In III:51 of the Guide of the Perplexed,
      Maimonides mentions Ben Zoma - among rabbis
      expert only in Halakha, unable to understand
      metaphysics.  Thus they are outside the
      castle.

Q:  Is there any significance in this to the fact
      that some of Maimonides' students were not
      Jewish, but Muslim?
A:  I'm not aware of any advanced students who
      were Muslim.  There were Muslims who were
      followers, who studied the Guide...
Q:  But there was a Muslim who studied Aristotle
      with Maimonides; we have diaries...
A:  I don't know about that.
Q:  Esotericism was widespread-
A:  But Maimonides was not in Baghdad.
Q:  This was in Egypt...

Q:  What is the nature of danger in the Kabbalah?
A:  Danger is associated with individual
      initiative.  Danger enters with the desire
      for the paranormal, for the transcendent
      experience, the desire to go beyond the
      communal experience.

Q:  What about the use of PARDES as a code [an
      acrostic] for the four ways of interpreting
      the Torah?
A:  It did become that, but only later, long after
      Maimonides, with Kabbalists in Spain and
      Italy.  But there is a huge amount of
      material available, and I had to select it
      very even inside this narrow topic in order
      to be able to give a manageable lecture.
      There is material for a year's worth of
      lectures for any of these topics.

Enter  to continue.
[A[K      II:  The Primordial Light:  The Ecstatics' Quest
                   Thursday 18 April 1991

      [The   introduction  to  the  lecture
    mentioned that the lecture series would
    eventually be coming out as a  book  to
    be   published  by  the  University  of
    Washington Press.]

      [The  introducer mentioned  an  article
    in  the Jerusalem Post about Scholem  and
    Idel.   Idel  has established  the  basis
    for  a  critical look at Scholem's  work.
    Scholem's  approach  was  historical  and
    contextual:  he interpreted the  Kabbalah
    as  a system of thought.  Idel's approach
    is  phenomenological:   he  endeavors  to
    discern  what  the symbolism  and  ritual
    meant  to  those who practised  it.   For
    Idel,  the  Kabbalah is not a  system  of
    ideas  but  a practical path to  mystical
    experience.    For   Scholem,    Kabbalah
    entered  Judaism  from the  outside,  and
    was  the result of the influence of Greek
    gnosticism on Rabbinic Judaism.  It  was,
    in   effect,  an  alien  heresy  with  an
    underground   existence.     For    Idel,
    Kabbalah   is   an   esoteric   tradition
    flowing   from  within  Judaism   itself,
    though  with  links  and  correspondences
    with  other  mystical  traditions.   Idel
    feels  that  the study of the  manuscript
    tradition  has  just  barely  begun,  and
    that therefore most of the field has  yet
    to be explored.
        He  also  feels that even the  most
    theoretical  texts  are  experientially
    oriented.  This has led him to  try  to
    reconstruct  the techniques  that  were
    actually used.  He has done so in  part
    through  observation  of  practices  of
    ultra-Orthodox communities in Israel  -
    and  they in turn have come to him  for
    technical   advice   on   reading   and
    understanding their texts.]

 There is another paradigm through which the
story of the entry to Pardes can be read - one
which is not philosophical, but ecstatic.  This
variety of paradigms by the way is very
important.  It shows that Jews were less
interested in establishing a unified theology
than they were in finding secret interpretations
that would attract many different kinds of
people.  They were open to having a different
way for each sort of person.  This is a sign of
the openness of the elite culture to allowing
different approaches for a variety of people -
not so much to attract the masses, but to allow
for diversity among the elite.
 This second interpretation of the Pardes was
the result of the merger of Jewish mysticism and
Neoplatonic philosophy.  For Maimonides, it was
a Pardes ha Chokmah, a Pardes of Knowledge.  It
had to do with the solution to cognitive
problems.  For Maimonides, Adam was lost in
contemplation of metaphysical truths.  Thus, for
Maimonides, R. Aqiva was the central figure, the
most perfect of the four sages.
 But for some Kabbalists at the beginning of
the Thirteenth Century the major figure was not
R. Aqiva but Ben Azzai, the Talmudic master who
died.  For them, the Pardes was not a matter of
intellect, but of the experience of a supreme
light.  This Light was not an intellectual or
conceptual light, but an experiential light.

 Ancient Jewish textual material is rich in
emphasis on the importance of light - as in
Genesis, where Light is the first created
entity.  Midrashic texts portray Adam as an
entity of Light, and as having garments of
Light, which were lost after his expulsion from
Eden.  In this tradition, the basic activity of
Adam was the contemplation of the Light, of the
Shekinah.  The "Light of the Shekinah" is a key
term in these texts.
 Both Pardes and Paradise, in this tradition,
are seen as full of Light.  Adam's experience in
the Fall is the loss of the possibility of
contemplating the Light.  The loss of garments
of Light leads to their replacement by garments
of skin (a pun in Hebrew).  This loss of the
possibility of experience of the Light is
crucial in ancient Hebrew texts.
 For example, in the Book of Adam and Seth (as
preserved in Armenia):  "But Adam .. in being
stripped of the Divine Light .. became an equal
of the dumb beasts.  Enoch for forty days and
nights did not eat.  Then he planted a garden ..
and was in it for 552 years.  Then he was taken
up into heaven ...."  [The quotation was quite a
bit longer; unfortunately, I couldnot keep up.]
This portrays an attempt by Enoch to reconstruct
and re-enter the situation of Adam.  This is a
basic pattern in later discussions of the Pardes
texts:  an attempt to return to the ability to
contemplate the Light as Adam once did.
 In the Hekhaloth texts, too, the idea of Light
is paramount.  Pardes is described as full of
the radiance of Light.
 There is a manuscript text by an unknown
author - one which I needed some 60 pages to
analyze, so we can only deal witha small part of
it here.  There are some ten lines in it about
Ben Azzai (who did not return).  "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." [Quotation approximate]
 This text portrays people gazing not at a
Chariot or a marble throne, but at the radiance
of God (Tzvi ha Shekinah), a light so strong
that no one can bear it. The idea of
"overwhelming" is textually crucial.  The idea
of having a great desire to cleave, as described
in the medieval text, is new.  In ancient
literature, contemplation is of something far
away, across an unbridgeable gap.  There is no
idea there of love, only of awe.  Here, however,
we see a trace of a radical change:  the
intensity of the experience is linked with a
great desire to cleave to the radiance of the
Shekinah.  There is a strong experience of union
with the Divine, the result of a desire to enter
and become a part of the Divine realm.  There is
an attempt to enjoy the Divine without
interruption.  The language of desire implies
erotic overtones to the experience, especially
since "Shekinah" in Hebrew is feminine.  The
text then is speaking about an attempt to cleave
to a feminine aspect of the Divine - also a
development unique to the medieval literature
(and not found in the ancient literature).  And
also the idea of "sweet radiance" has erotic
overtones.

 So what happened?  He couldn't return from the
experience.  The Hebrew terms are very strong.
After his death he was "hidden away in the place
of his cleaving."  This death was the death of
the pious ones whose souls are separated from
all concerns with the mundane world, and who
cleave to the supernal world.  It was, in other
words, not an accident but an achievement.
 There is a threefold structure implied here,
reminiscent of Christian and Neoplatonic
mysticism.  The first phase is the via
purgativa, "Those who are separated from all
concerns of the lowly world."  The second phase
is the via illuminativa.  The third phase is the
via unitiva.  There is here a combination of
ancient Jewish material with pagan or Christian
Neoplatonist material to portray or interpret
the experience of Ben Azzai.  This interpretive
paradigm continued in active use from the
Thirteenth through the Eighteenth centuries,
where it was used among the Hasidim.  It was a
tradition that lasted 600 to 700 years, and it
is exactly the kind of tradition it is hard to
study without looking at manuscripts.

 This text was also copied by a Thirteenth
Century Kabbalist who gave it an even stronger
nuance of mysticism.  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.  The assumption:  out of
intense love, his cleaving was total.  Later,
there were even stronger formulations, in which
the soul and the Light become one entity.
 This text is one example of texts dealing with
the unio mystica.  It allows for bridging in a
total manner the gap between man and God.  This
is another example of the formative power of the
Neoplatonic mystical tradition, as it also
expressed itself in Christianity and Islam.
 However, for the Kabbalists the major events
took place in the past.  He is reporting not on
a contemporary but on Ben Azzai.  Is this simply
a matter of an intepretation?  Or is there
something more to it - a practical interest?
Can we extract from the sources a method, a
practice?

 In my opinion, since the end of the Thirteen
Century there is evidence that there were
experiences of Light connected with the story of
Ben Azzai and the Kabbalists who discussed it -
but this is not always simple to demonstrate.
 Another anonymous text, written in 1290 or so
in Galilee, describes a technique, and afterward
describes a personal experience characterized by
amazement, confusion, and a need for
clarification and interpretation.  Its author
describes the Divine Light as attracting the
Light of the soul, "which is weak in relation to
the Divine Light."  (There is a magnetic
metaphor here, and we can see in this adoption
of non-traditional metaphors an attempt to come
to terms with personal experience.)  This
experience was the result of letter-combination
techniques.  Later the anonymous Kabbalist
attempts to describe how he approached a master
to learn a technique to stop the experience.
Thus, discussing this experience in terms of the
story of Ben Azzai is an attempt to relate
personal experience to a model.  It is not
simply an attempt to provide an interpretation
for the story of Ben Azzai.
 Another ecstatic Kabbalist also relates his
experience to the story of Ben Azzai:  "If a man
does that which his soul wishes in the proper
ways of hitbodeduth, his soul is immersed in
this light and he will die like Ben Azzai."
 The Kabbalists tried to reach the pre-fall
state of the Primordial Man, to enteragain the
radiance of the Shekinah, and even to enter a
certain erotic relationship with the Divine
Presence, as later we find in the Zohar in other
forms.  They also provided, by the end of the
Thirteenth Century, certain detailed techniques.
"By letter combinations, unifications, and
reversals of letters, he shall call up the Tree
of Knowledge of Good and Evil... [list of
encounter with various polarized qualities and
entities, e.g., Mercy and Severity] ... he will
be in danger of the same death as Ben Azzai."

 Beginning with the end of the Fourteenth
Century, there are descriptions of Kabbalists
studying together, and of each observing the
others to see if they become luminous.
"Likewise today, if someone will look at the
faces of students who are worshipping out of
love .. you will see on them the radiance of the
Divine Presence so that those who see them will
be afraid, and each of them will have the
radiance of the Divine Presence according to his
rank."  There is, in other words, the
expectation of a corporeally observable
radiance.

 For Maimonides the experience of the Pardes
was mental, with no outward sign; for the
Kabbalists it was corporeal and visible.
 For Maimonides, God was an intellect; for the
Kabbalists, God was a 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.
 The Kabbalists developed techniques -
Maimonides had no clear method.
 The Kabbalists attempted to describe
techniques, and signs of attainment.
 Thus the Kabbalistic tradition is not one of
speculations about mysticism; it is full-fledged
mysticism.  In the Kabbalistic tradition, an
extreme type of experience is sought out and
considered positive.
 The mystical death is the real goal of
ecstatic Kabbalah.  For Maimonides, the ideal is
to remain in a state of intellection.  For the
ecstatic Kabbalists, extreme experience is final
experience.

 The Pardes was thus idealized by Jewish
mystics, and given new meanings.  This
idealization opened another avenue, one
exploited especially by Eighteenth Century
Hasidic mysticism.  We can see a continuous line
from the beginning of the Kabbalah up to the
founder of the modern Hasidic movement who
himself quoted parts of the same text.  This can
be understood as an inner Jewish development,
and not a historical accident.


                          Questions

Q:  Did all Kabbalists wish actual death?  For
  those who did not, what was the rationale for
  not wanting it?
A:  That is a matter of the mystic's role in
  society.  Moses, it is said, wanted to die,
  to leave the world, to remain in a state of
  union.  But God said he had a role as a
  mystic - to reach the extreme and yet return.
  But that is not the case for all Kabbalists:
  not all of them were oriented toward society.
  There as also a controversy about the
  desirability of it, but the idea that it
  could be achieved was admitted on all sides
  of the controversy.  It was not theologically
  denied.  Even those who opposed it admitted
  that a total union was possible.
Q:  In that case, how was Aqiva understood?
A:  He was understood as someone who could
  balance, who could enter and leave.  Aqiva
  (like Moses) could enter, but he knew when to
  retreat.  He knew how to combine the two.

Q:  On Tuesday you discussed the role of
  Halakhic ritual as a way of controlling
  impulses, for Maimonides.  Tonight you did
  not mention it at all.  Did it have a role?
A:  Maimonides was a Halakhist.  But most of
  the Kabbalists we have mentioned were not.
  Most were anonymous - they were not Halakhic
  masters, but mystics.  For them, keeping the
  norms was not as important as reaching beyond
  the norms.  Basically, they were a-nomian.
  They did not regard the Commandments as a
  major tool.  They might be preparatory, but
  they were not final.
Q:  Certainly not all aspects of Halakha would
  have been neutral:  it afforded major
  opportunities for ecstatic experiences on
  certain feasts, for example...
A:  These Kabbalists were not unobservant, they
  were not antinomian.  But as mystics (rather
  than as Jews) they used other types of
  rituals or techniques.  Ritual anyway would
  be suspended at the peaks of ecstatic
  experience, when one cannot do anything.  The
  issue is not simple - but there seems to have
  been no friction.  It is highly significant
  that there are no critiques of the use of
  mystical techniques, e.g., of combining
  Divine Names.  Their practice probably did
  not interfere with regular Halakhic
  observances.

Q:  How did such experiences tend to affect
  their experience of the material world?  Did
  it enhance their opinion of it?  Lower it?
A:  Here we touch on the paradoxical connection
  of the mystic and the prophetic mission.  As
  ecstatics, they were escapist.  But they also
  felt that the experience prompted or provoked
  a mission.  In coming back, the return was
  interpreted as a being sent forth, as having
  a mission.  This offered a rationale for
  coming back.  "You are permitted to return if
  you are needed."  Thus there was a tension
  between the drive for attainment and the
  feeling of a mission.

Q:  What about free will?  Could one say that
  Ben Azzai got what he wanted, and that Aqiva
  got what he wanted?
A:  Not exactly.  At a moment in an experience
  one may be caught up or captured by another
  dynamic.  You may lose control; free will may
  be overwhelmed, overridden.

Q:  Is there an attempt to revive these things
  in Israel?
A:  Yes; some are studying and practising these
  techniques.
Q:  For example?
A:  Breathing, letter combination - I have
  contacted at least ten people I know.
Q:  They base this on Kabbalistic descriptions?
A:  They ARE Kabbalists.

Q:  In this Kabbalistic context God is
  described as radiance, energy, but in basic
  Judaism God is also anthropomorphic,
  interested in the world.  Is there a
  connection?
A:  If one is speaking about erotic experience,
  there must be some sense of a personalistic
  object.  The Kabbalists tried to compromise
  between anthropomorphic and spiritualistic
  content.  The Sefiroth were seen as a
  structure of Light, but also as corporeal.
  They were able to shape the anthropomorphic
  content to a more spiritual, energic model.


   [Afterward, as is usual at such  lectures,
  people   approached   the   speaker    with
  congratulations,  comments,  and   assorted
  questions.  Two stand out.]

   [A  thin, intense young man kept asking  Idel
  about  energy  experiences, and the  sense  of
  "energy  coming in," and asked if  anyone  had
  done  any  EEG  studies of  Kabbalists.   Idel
  said  that  Judaic studies were still in their
  infancy; mostly they were textual studies,  an
  attempt  to figure out what the texts actually
  said  and what they were about - and even just
  to  find them and get them edited and printed.
  No  one  had  gotten to doing  anything  else,
  though  he  knew of the work by  Ornstein  and
  others,  and  thought it would be  interesting
  to do in a Kabbalistic context.
   [The  young man, consumed by his questioning,
  didn't  quite  see  Idel's  point  about   the
  emphasis   on   textual   scholarship;    Idel
  gradually   realized  the  young  man   wanted
  advice     about    his    own    meditational
  experiences,  and  was a little  taken  aback,
  and tried to achieve polite closure.

   [Idel  turned  to  another  questioner,   who
  asked something textual:

Q:   You  mentioned that these techniques became
  discussed  and  elaborated in  the  Thirteenth
  Century  or so.  Is there any textual evidence
  for their source?
A:   Yes;  in fact some of them can be found  in
  texts  of  the Hellenistic period,  especially
  those    involving   breathing   and    letter
  combination and visualization.  They  seem  to
  be   a   part  of  a  general  fund  of   such
  techniques  at the time, parallel  to  similar
  things   one  finds  in  Hellenistic   magical
  papyri, for example.

   [Then,  as  though realizing  then  that  the
  young  man's  questions {about what  it  meant
  when  energy  came in, as opposed  to  finding
  oneself   elsewhere,  about  the  dangers   of
  possession,  and  so on} were  pressing,  Idel
  turned   back  {despite  attempts  by  various
  professors  to ease him out of the  hall}  and
  began  quietly  to  address  himself  to   his
  queries.]

                      [end of part II]
Enter  to continue.
[A[K           Lecture III:  Pardes:  From Sefiroth to
                         Demonology
                    Monday 22 April 1991


 We have already examined two paradigms for
reading the story of the entry into Pardes.
Tonight, I want to talk about two others:
the Theosophical and Theurgical paradigms.
The paradigms already covered in the first
two lectures, different though they were,
had a common feature:  both deal with inner
experience, whether intellectualistic or
ecstatic.  The drama takes place in
consciousness.  Even if ecstasy involves
possession, it is still occurring in human
consciousness.
 The Divine is not affected by the entrance
of the philosopher or mystic into the
Pardes.  This activity only affects the
human intellect or soul - not the Divine.
 The two other paradigms also have an
assumption in common:  that the entry into
the Pardes has a deep effect on the non-
human realms.  In the Theosophical paradigm,
the Divine is not a simple entity, but a
system of divine powers.  The entry into the
Pardes influences the relationships between
these divine powers.  The other paradigm,
the Theurgic, involves an influence on, or
struggle with, the demonic realm.  These two
may seem quite different, but, according the
Kabbalah, the demonic and the Divine share a
common anthropomorphic structure.  The
Sefiroth are prototypes for the demonic as
well as the Divine realms.  Both paradigms,
then, deal with attempts to affect the
structure and relationship of external
entities, either by inducing harmony in the
Divine world or by combatting some aspect of
the demonic world.
 In both cases, the Pardes again represents
a danger zone:  an aspect of these realms
that is too strong for most mortals.  And
both approaches, in their reading of the
Pardes story, take as the key figure that of
Akher, or Elisha ben Abuya, the heretical
figure, he who "peeked and cut the shoots."
He is seen as one who was unable to
understand appropriately either the
sefirotic or Demonic realm.
 I would like to deal first with the
demonic, so that we can finish with
something more positive.  The basic
assumption of this type of Kabbalah became
important around the end of the Thirteenth
Century (it is not generally found earlier):
that the knowledge of the structure of the
demonic is the most profound form of
Kabbalah, the most recondite.  A commonly
used name for members of this tradition can
be translated, "The More Profound
Kabbalists."  Their texts run to long lists
of evil angels, and detailed discussions of
the relationships between the demonic and
the Divine.  The tradition also includes a
strong reinterpretation of the Pardes story.
In this tradition, it was held (e.g. by
Moses de Leon) that it was a religious duty
to know, and pursue knowledge of, the
demonic world - but not to be immersed in
it.  Only when one has the ability to
distinguish good and evil can one truly know
the good, and truly worship God.  But this
must be done so that one is not attracted by
or immersed in or inundated by the demonic
realm.
 Thus, one also finds in these texts long
lists of sinners, with Akher as the last
major figure.
 These sinners were those who were attracted
by the demonic realm, who were, in essence,
sexually seduced by it.  They were those who
had become immersed in a certain commerce or
intercourse with demonic sexual figures.
Thus one finds Adam (seduced by Lilith), and
Solomon, whose "thousand wives" were
regarded as a multitude of demonic powers,
and Balaam, said to have had intercourse
with his ass.  These figures were all
seduced into sin.  Sexual attraction, then,
becomes an explanation of the power of the
Pardes, which one must understand but not be
immersed in.
 Why did this paradigm arise at the end of
the Thirteenth Century?  Most of the
Kabbalists who used it lived in Castile,
where there was a certain phenomenon of Jews
having sexual relations with Christians, or,
more often, with Muslims.  There are
discussions of this phenomenon in de Leon
and others:  the fascination with the Other
is there portrayed as a demonic attraction.
 Now, there is a basic pattern well-known in
the history of religions, often called
"katabasis:"  the descent into hell to
perform some rite.  Usually the katabasis is
a salvific descent - an attempt to rescue
some of the dwellers in hell (though
generally not demons).  But in Cabalistic
tradition it often ends negatively:  the
person who makes the descent is unable to
surface.  Already in the Talmud Ben Abuya is
described as being in some relationship with
a prostitute.  Kabbalists exploited this to
portray him as indulging in sexual
transgression.
 The others are portrayed as more
successful.  R. Aqiva entered, but did not
get involved.  A parallel was seen with
Abraham, who descended into Egypt (often
taken as a type of the demonic realm) and
who was able to emerge in peace.  Another
similarity was found with Noah, who
experienced the Flood but who came out in
safety.  This is, in other words, a
typological approach.  The Pardes story is
used to summarize certain prototypical
stories from Adam onward.  That the
interpretations are typological is obvious
because of the range of figures adduced to
make the point.  One of the most exciting is
the projection of the Pardes story onto the
Biblical story of Samson.  At the beginning,
Samson is able into a relationship with
Delilah, and ultimately he is able to
destroy the realm of evil.  Samson met
Delilah in the equivalent of Pardes:  in a
vineyard.  All of these are instances that
indicate that medieval Jewish hermeneutics
was in fact very typological - which quite
contradicts the claims of certain modern
scholars, who see the typological approach
as typical of scholastic philosophy, and not
at all Jewish.
 This approach remains, from the Thirteenth
Century up through the Lurianic Kabbalah,
where it reaches an apex.

 The other paradigm I wish to consider
addresses itself to the Sephirotic realm.
This paradigm was typical of those
Kabbalists who assumed that the crucial
issue was to induce or re-induce the harmony
in the Divine spheres which had been
disturbed by primordial human transgression.
There were two metaphors for the Divine:
that of the Tree, and (to simplify) the
anthropomorphic one of the couple.  In the
latter, the first nine Sefiroth were taken
as male, and the last as female.  The basic
sin of Akher was to break the connection
between the first nine and the tenth (seen
as the shoots, or as a female figure).  The
challenge created by this transgression is
to see the Pardes as a Garden.
 In Paradise, the transgression was the
separation of the fruit from the tree,
projected on high.  The transgression was
not eating, but separating one aspect of the
Divine from the rest.  By separating the
fruit from the Tree, Akher (or Adam)
separated aspects of the Divine from each
other, thus inducing a disturbance in the
Divine realm often referred to as "the
devastation of the plantations."  Even more
dangerously, by affecting the Divine world
in this way you are prone to accept the
assumption that there are two different
powers, to believe no longer in a Unity on
high, but a Duality.  In the moment of
separation, in other words, the possibility
of a dualistic misunderstanding arises.  The
challenge, then, is to heal this rupture,
which took place in the primordial era.
 The work of restoring the lost unity is
open to Jews in general, but especially to
the Kabbalists, by the use of Jewish ritual,
which is seen as a Theurgical technique,
i.e., one able to influence God (which is
one way of understanding the word
"theurgy").  According to the Theosophical-
Theurgical Kabbalah, the major role of the
Kabbalist is to restore the organic unity
between the Divine powers.
  It is, in a sense, the transposition of
the mystical project into another key, the
attempt to repair the rupture in the Divine
(rather than between the human and the
Divine) induced by human transgression.
 R. Aqiva, then, was seen as one who was
able to act ritualistically to restore the
relationship between the two last Sefiroth
[the ninth and the tenth].  This projected a
certain type of sacramental value onto
Jewish ritual which was absent in other
forms of Kabbalah or in Maimonides.  In
other traditions, the individual was the
center.  But in these demonic or Sephirotic
pursuits, the focus is on repairing the
cosmos, on inducing a more harmonious state
in general, in the nation, and in the
cosmos.

 The last issue I wish to consider involves
making a comparative observation about the
distribution of the discussions of the
Pardes story.  It is found of course in
ancient literature, but in the medieval
period, surprisingly (and this surprised me
when I first looked into this question),
only the Sephardi were interested in it.  It
does not appear in medieval Ashkenazi texts.
The Sephardic literature is less interested
in the Talmud and the Hekhaloth, and more
interested in the Pardes.  It was in the
Sephardi literature that the interpretations
we have discussed were invented.
 Now, Sephardi culture was in much more open
contact with alien cultures, and thus more
endangered.  Muslim (and even Christian
philosophic/scholastic) culture were
perceived as a danger, and openness to it
was experienced as a danger - a dangerous
ideal.
 Ashkenazi society of the period was closed;
there was not much scholarly interchange
with other cultures.  Ashkenazi culture was
very confident, and it was not open
precisely because it was confident that
Jewish culture was the highest form of
religion.  Thus for it there was no
dangerous ideal.  The story of "Entering
Pardes," then, did not meet any cultural
need, because there was no sense of cultural
danger.  Even later, in the Sixteenth
Century, when the Pardes story is discussed,
the discussion is inspired by Sephardi
literature, and this is true even up to the
mid-Eighteenth Century.  But by the
Nineteenth Century, a deep change has
occurred:  all interest in the Pardes theme
is found among the Ashkenazim.  This, I
think, is connected with the entry into
interaction with general culture, with the
Enlightenment.  There came to be a need to
explain the meaning of this interaction.
Elisha ben Abuya, in fact, could be seen as
one of the major protagonists in much modern
Hebrew literature.
 It was, then, cultural exposure and
openness which invoked, provoked, and evoked
(all three!) the interest in the Pardes
theme.  The Pardes story explained the
encounter between the Jewish and other
mentalities.  In fact, this may also be the
explanation for the Talmudic treatment of
Elisha Akher, especially if he is taken as a
Gnostic, as modern scholars often do.  Even
the early forms of his story, then, would
typify the encounter of Jews with a general
culture - in this case, a Gnostic culture.
Akher would be someone open to a non-Jewish
type of culture - though in fact it is hard
to be sure which of many it might have been.
 There area as many different scholarly
Elishas as there were contemporary cultures.
Akher typifies a situation in which there is
a willingness to be open, but a danger of
being unable to return to one's patrimony.
There is a danger that one will be seduced
by, and remain immersed in, philosophy,
Gnosticism, Neoplatonism ... or whatnot.
His plight is used to describe an
existential situation in which Jews found
themselves between Judaism and a general
culture that fascinated and endangered them.


                          Questions

Q:  Is there any connection between these
 interpretations and a current of
 opposition to Maimonides?
A:  Well, I don't believe in single
 explanations.  All of these Cabalistic
 explanations became published or exposed
 after the period of Maimonides.  Most
 Cabalists were probably acquainted with
 Maimonides.  But this was probably not so
 much a matter of a silent polemic with
 Maimonides as a matter of a tension
 between a ritualistic and experiential
 approach and an intellectualistic one
 (often regarded as alien).

Q:  One interpretation of the Pardes theme
 is of an entry into the demonic sphere.
 How was this combat carried out?
A:  By the commandments - mitzvoth.  The
 idea was to explore, and attempt to
 subdue, by performing the Commandments in
 a Cabalistic manner, thus extricating some
 part of the demonic world.  In the
 Sephirotic realm, by means of the positive
 commandments, one worked to unify the
 Divine world; by observing the
 prohibitions, one could subdue (but not
 eradicate) the demonic world.  The
 Kabbalists werequite uneasy with the idea
 of destroying an aspect of reality, even a
 demonic one.  As a part of reality it was
 needed, and had to be not destroyed but
 managed or coped with.

Q:  How is the Pardes story understood and
 used by Kabbalists now?
A:  I don't know.  I haven't yet discussed
 this with them.  After I make up my mind
 on the basis of the texts, then I will go
 to them and see what they think.

Q:  What about Ben Zoma:  how was he seen?
A:  As someone who had progressed to a
 certain level, but who was not able to
 enter metaphysics, so to speak.  He forced
 himself into the Physics, but he became
 mentally disturbed.  The ecstatic
 Kabbalists  took him as one who had
 entered the strong experience and become
 crazy.  Others assumed that he had been
 damaged by the demonic world.  But he did
 not receive much treatment as an ideal
 type, unlike Akher or Ben Azai, or Elisha
 the prototype of imperfection.  Ben Zoma
 was not a strong type, he was not so
 interesting, so he was not taken as a
 type.  And I have not found him
 interesting enough to discuss much
 myself...

Q:  What if you are in a group having
 religious experiences, can you then go out
 into the world to change the world?
A:  Look:  most Kabbalists functioned at a
 social level.  Some were leaders, andwere
 very important members of their
 communities, so often they naturally were
 social figures.  But even ecstatic
 Kabbalists who were sometimes very
 individualistic became messianic in their
 external activities.  Most known
 Kabbalists contributed the perfection of
 the Divine, or of individual perfection,
 in service of messianic aims.  The same by
 the way is often true of non-Jewish
 mysticism, which could also be a way to
 energize the personality to return to the
 group in an activist manner.

===================================================================
Addendum (Colin Low)

I am surprised at the currency of the idea of Pardes, or the Garden, or
Eden.  The Kabbalah I received was heavily impregnated with these ideas,
which formed both a motivation and a backdrop for the learning of
Kabbalah.  It is difficult for me to present these ideas, because they
don't form a coherent framework, and they tended to point in a direction
and hint, rather than spell out anything clearly in words of two
syllables - indeed, it was very clear that the interpretation was
*intended* to be personal.  I'm going to try to put something down, but
I want to make clear that what follows is an attempt to capture some of
what was given to me in fragments, rather than an attempt to express my
own opinions and interpretations.

----------------------------

Eden is an ideal state of being.  The purpose of the Great Work is to
restore this state not only to the individual, but to the whole of
creation.  In Kabbalistic terms, the purpose of the Great Work is to
restore Malkuth to its former position in Daath.  It was very clearly
stated that the purpose of Kabbalah was not individual or escapist; the
entire motivation revolved around the Great Work and a collective return
to Eden.

A second thread comes from the idea that the knowledge of what Eden
represents has been largely lost.  This is the Fall, the abyss of
separation from God.  There are those who understand what Eden is and
how to get to it, and those who don't, and it is the sacred
responsibility of those who do to preserve that knowledge and pass it on
lest it pass entirely from the world.  Thus the Great Work is also the
retrieval, perpetuation and passing on of knowledge, and not just
esoteric knowledge, but the entire fragile inheritance of the human race
which passes from one generation to the next.  Every one of us will die,
and all that remains of us is what we have been able to perpetuate and
pass on.

A third thread was the notion of redemption.  Redemption is the process
used to bring about the collective return to Eden.  It was used in a
more specific context than "the Great Work", and tended to refer to an
esoteric aspect of Kabbalah, the Kabbalist as mediator between what is
above and what is below, that is, bringing God into the world, and
taking the world back to God.  There was an implicit responsibility to
live fully and unflinchingly in the real world, to accept
being-in-the-world not as an inconvenience but as an end in itself.
This introduced a variant interpretation of Eden, not only as a lost
state of being, but as a name for an unknown collective destination, a
culmination of being-in-the-world.  The Eden we arrive at is not the
same Eden as the Eden we fell from.  Ritual techniques were used for
personal development, but also played a key part in mediation and
redemption - Kabbalah was about being and doing, and magic was an
integral part of doing.

The idea of the Fall from Eden was associated with the idea that, in
falling into the abyss of separation, we lost the knowledge of unity,
the direct pantheistic perception of all-as-one.  If all-is-one, then
evil actions are those carried out in ignorance of this state:  if you
and I can be perceived of as one at some level, then hurting you will
hurt me, and to deny this self-hurt is to fall further into the abyss of
separation and self-importance.  A morality grows out of these
assumptions, but it was not made explicit - the all-as-one implies an
objective morality which each person was free to discover for
themselves, and to acknowledge or ignore.  [Ideas about the nature of
evil tended to become fairly complex; they were generally non-dualistic,
and firmly anchored in the belief that God-made-manifest contained every
possibility of being, and a latent capacity for all manner of good and
evil].

Individuality was not only important, it was of the very essence.  The
Work was not a retreat to Eden, it was an advance, and if all the
possibilities of being were to be explored, each person required the
freedom to discover the consequences of their own nature.  There was a
feeling that the desire which led to the Fall was not sinful, and
being-in-the-world was not the terrible mistake portrayed in Genesis; it
was a free and willing choice.  Nevertheless, something had gone
wrong in human beings, and the Work was the attempt to limit the damage.

Kabbalah was not seen as something to do with the Tree of Life and the
sephiroth and gematria and so on; it was the willingness to share a
common purpose in the (albiet almost undefined) Work which was at the
heart of Kabbalah; it was the common and continuous purpose which ran
back hundreds of years which was the real Kabbalah.  It was about the return
to Eden. Those who knew in their hearts that there was an Eden found each
another.  The trappings of Kabbalah were little more than ways and means,
and ways and means change according to time and circumstance.

-----------------------------------------------

I cannot emphasise too strongly that the material above was not intended
as a set of propositions about the nature of reality.  There was no
attempt to reach consensus on meaning, and questions tended to be met
with silence, evasion, distraction, or another question.  About the only
point of agreement was that there was the Work, and exactly what that was
was for each person to discover for themselves. I do not know
where this material came from - whether it was handed down, or whether
it was mined directly from the coal face.  I suspect most of it was
mined directly from the coal face - 95% intuition, 5% tradition.

I naturally have my own opinion and interpretation of this material, but
in keeping with the spirit in which I received it I prefer to keep my
opinions to myself.  This was something I would not have posted under
normal circumstances; it presents a view of Kabbalah which stands apart
from the 20th.  century popularisations I have read, and I have neither
the energy or desire to justify it.  The Moshe Idel lectures encouraged
me to try to say something; I can see interesting parallels and
survivals (which are as much a surprise to me as anyone else) between
the material here and that in his lectures.  I am grateful to LeGrand
for his efforts to breath life into his Commodore and retrieve the
lectures.

Colin.