Rav Kook

An Analysis of Rabbi Avraham Yitzchak HaKohen Kook’s
Orot ha-Emunah (Lights of Faith)
Ours is an age of externals-glitter and tinsel. How do you look? How do you talk? How do you dress? What do you profess to believe? What do you eat? If that’s o.k., then you’re o.k. The world is much too complicated for us to look deeper, to see beneath the surface; not enough time, and not enough patience.

Also, there are too many dangers. We must stay strong to keep the outside out. We must be able to easily identify the enemy, and our friends. We need constant encouragement that we are in the right place. We want to be able to check often and quickly, to make sure we are not being insidiously infiltrated by the outside. How do you look? How you talk? What do you eat? That’s enough for me. I am secure.

…And in my security, I succumb to a terrible danger, the danger of superficiality, of inaction, and of weakness of the will.

…And the world grows cold for me, and loses its excitement and its freshness, as I move along the surface of life in increasingly intricate patterns, but always moving, alas, only on the surface. No adventure for me, no discoveries, no surprises.

Ours is an age of lack of self-esteem. we don’t trust ourselves. We want to be protected, for we feel small, afraid, far from the center of spirituality. In being humble, we think we are modest, but really we are weak. In being excessively cautious, we think we are being exceptionally frum, but really we just don’t trust ourselves. We see ourselves as vulnerable enclosures whose boundaries must be clearly demarcated, whose territory must be secured, whose way in the world must be defensive.

“Excessive fear of sin destroys the goodness in a person, and makes of him a lowly creature, who does nothing but lie there, shaking.” So writes Abraham Isaac Kook, in the opening paragraph of Orot Ha-emuna. “A person must believe in his life, in both his physical and moral powers.” The lack of emunah in oneself is the greatest of all the curses in the Torah, “Your life will be in the balance…and you will not believe in your life.” You will be plagued by self-doubt (Your life will be “in the balance”) and lack inner confidence. Because of this inner anxiety, “In the morning you will say, ‘Who will give evening?’ and in the evening ‘Who will give morning?’ “katnut ha-emunah,” “insufficient emunah,” is a lack of confidence in oneself, and “comes from the inability to raise one’s own self-worth to the point of understanding how he is deserving of the Divine Greatness.”

When we believe in ourselves we are not afraid-cautious, yes, but not afraid. And when we are not afraid we can look at the world again, and see in it the kaleidescopic possibilities of existence. We can look outside, and see beneath the surface. And beneath that surface, we may even find something of ourselves.

Orot Ha-emunah was written by Rav Kook more than 50 years ago, but only now has been published for the first time. Who can guess why it has been withheld from the public all these years? Not a book in the usual sense, but a loose collection of separately written paragraphs constituting a kind of spiritual diary, Orot Ha-emunah is one great call not to be afraid, to look below the surface, and to ascend thereby to great spiritual heights. “When a person believes in himself he discovers great contentment in his spiritual endeavors, and ascends upward.’’ In this work Rav Kook explores emunah by comparing and contrasting it with kefirah (atheism, denial), avodah zarah (idol worship), and “minut,” which is the term favored by him to refer to Christianity, and by examining its relationship to the doing of mitzvot, and to general culture.

From these writings there emerges a profound teaching that belief in oneself is conceptually and existentially inseparable from emunah in God. For first and foremost, for Rav Kook, emunah is a state of being. As he writes elsewhere, “Emunah is the most basic self-revealing of the essence of the soul.” And this self-revealing is really the Divine within us made manifest: “Too much fear spoils emunah, because one doesn’t trust himself and his understanding, thereby diminishing his awareness of the Divine spark in his soul.” The essence of emunah is an awareness of the perfection of the Infinite and that “whatever experience of the infinite] enters the heart is but a minute spark of what can be imagined.” Emunah, then, is a self-affirmation in which one experiences one’s own self-revealment as the revealing of the Divine within. Emunah is a state of being.

It follows that emunah is not constituted by an act of “belief” or by a linguistic, cognitive affirmation. The latter are important both as external expressions of emunah, and as a means of bringing to emunah.

But even in their absence, emunah can be alive. And more, emunah can live even where there is no conscious awareness of one’s self divinity and even when one denies the Divine: “Sometimes you will find a kofer with an inner, shining strong emunah, flowing from the source of transcendent holiness, stronger than a thousand believers, who are “small of emunah.” How is this possible? Because “the inner spiritual basis of the holiness of emunah transcends all language.” A kofer can manifest the Divine power of his being even while denying faith with his mouth, and a believer can be lying, shaking with fright, all the while proclaiming his faith through chattering teeth.

Kefrah can itself even emanate from holiness. This can happen for example, when linguistic affirmations are rejected precisely because they are sensed to be inadequate, as but a weak shadow of the power of being. Thus, “there is denial (kefrah) that is like consent, and consent that is like denial.” Inadequate articulations of Judaism may force their own rejection, out of the depths of holiness. If we are to return the kofer to the practice of Torah, our elucidations of Torah contents must be adequate to the power of his being.

Rav Kook’s concept of emunah provides hope for our seemingly faithless world. For, “There are many apikorsim who are deniers, in accordance with the standards of Halacha. However, when we examine their soul we will discover in them a connection to the Divine content, in a hidden form. And that is why in our generation there is a tendency toward merit and kindness even toward absolute deniers.”

That does not at all mean that it does not matter for Rav Kook if you are atheist or believer, as long as the inner emunah manifests its power in you. Far from it. Linguistic affirmations of faith lead in the direction of transcendent truth, whereas protestations of atheism lead in the direction of falsehood and inauthenticity. He who is faithful to conceptual assertions of emunah has a covenant with God that he will merit that emunah which is beyond conceptualization and language From that high vantage point he will apprehend the correspondence between the elements of the conceptualized emunah and its transcendent counterpart.

Yet sometimes, when we look outside, and beneath the surface, we do see something of ourselves.

Idol worship, too, in its deepest essence knows the power of being of emunah, but covers it over with corruption and evil: “In the filth of avodah zarah great is the spirit of emunah, in its wildness and coarseness, its frenzy and horselike power. Avodah zarah knows the visceral, immediate engagement with the Divine in the world, and total, passionate, self-actualization and self-affirmation.

This “core of holiness’ in avodah zarah is passed into the Jewish people via Abraham, who began as a worshiper of idols. It is written “From the womb of the morning, yours is the dew of your youth.” Bereishit Rabba interprets this as being addressed to Abraham. He too was afraid and self-doubting, because of those years he had spent in the worship of idols. He is told, “Just as dew is the blessing for the world, so too are you a blessing for the world.” We might think the Midrash means to encourage Abraham in spite of his worshiping of idols. But Rav Kook quotes the Midrash differently: “Just as dew is a “good omen” for the world, just so, those years you worshiped idols are a good omen for the world.” The source of dew is in the heavens. Then the dew transcends to the ground, to a lowly place, to be raised heavenward by the rays of the morning sun. Just so, the core of avodah zarah is in the holiness of emunah, but avodah zarah plummets to the lowest forms of human existence from there to be raised back to its source, heaven ward. The passion and engagement that avodah zarah encompasses in self-affirmation is taken up by Abraham into the true religion. Avodah zarah is returned to its source.

Our history begins in disgrace, and issues in praise.” For in the beginning “Worshipers of idols were our forefathers.” The process of history brings the praise out of the disgrace. Thereby, and “God had brought us close to His service.”

Abraham first came to knowledge of God via contemplation of the world. Had it not been for the passion and engagement in the world which he inherited from avodah zarah, his religion might have been nothing more than an arid exercise in abstract philosophical reasoning. The power of Halacha with its life engagement traces its ancestry back to Abraham, the father of emunah.

Christianity, on the other hand, knows nothing of the power of life of ancient avodah zarah. Since it arose after the desire for avodah zarah was nullified, it is empty of life at its core. At its center, instead, stands an abstract, philosophical system of cold reasoning. As a result, “the general religion of the nations receives a form of shaking and weakness, which does not mix well with the breadth of life, but instead assumes the form of dark monasticism, which is less able to go with life than any sort of avodah zarah.”

Kohelet says, “And I find more bitter than death the woman, whose heart is snares and nets, and her hands as bands; whoever pleases God shall escape from her, but the sinner is trapped by her.” Our Rabbis identify this woman with “minut,” that is, Christianity. Thus, Rav Kook writes: “The Epicurean kefirah is death, whereas the distortion of emunah is worse than death.” What is the “Epicurean kefirah?”

Epicurus taught an austere physicalist ontology, including only physical entities and physical interactions between them. He was an arch anti-metaphysical philosopher. On the other hand, Christianity the “distortion of emunah, ” knows the intricate structures of the ‘science of God,” systematic theology. Yet Epicureanism is death, while Christianity is worse than death! To be anti-life is worse, far worse, than being anti-metaphysical! The power of life can exist hidden, deep within the dead body of the anti-metaphysician, to be aroused and awakened in a resurrection of the dead. But there is no life at all in the forces of anti-life. For this reason, Divine Providence has allowed the spread of materialist philosophies of kefirah, as a defense against something far worse.

Because so divorced from life, Christianity makes impossible demands that have no chance of being implemented. She has no concern for the realities of life. “Therefore, she says to offer the other cheek in return for a slap. Obviously, people can only believe that this is a sublime trait, but cannot attain it.” The result is inevitable failure and perpetual guilt. In a subtle inversion, chesed metamorphising into din! The aim of Christianity then becomes the alleviating of guilt, by the granting of forgiveness. But the forgiveness is not a prelude to a holier life. “Forgiveness becomes the whole goal.” The believer/sinner (for they are one) needs the Church to receive forgiveness. “By the sinner is trapped by her.”

To believe that which can be practiced is the special genius of Jewish spirituality. This is the “balance of the Torah” which knows how to weigh the ideals against possibility of implementation.

Emunah is an ineffable state of being. How does it relate to the details of Torah practice? “Emunah is the highest poetry (shira) of the world, with its source in the Divine nature in the depths of the
soul. High poetry is unstructured, without meter and rhyme. It has total freedom of imagination without restrictions. It is a spontaneous outpouring of individual creativity. The Torah is the translation of the higher poetry into measure and beat, into conventions and rules. Torah is the poetry of emunah in its practical rhythm. “There are those filled with the glory of the poetry, who are pained by the restrictions of the practical life, but they accept the yoke of the kingdom of heaven.

But there are also impatient souls “who cannot bear the measure, and they are full of rebellion. But even in this rebellion the Divine pleasantness lives, albeit in an unclear way.”

Rav Kook once wrote ‘ Just as there are laws in poetry, there is poetry in laws.” When one loves a poem, he does not experience the restrictions of its form. The possibility exists to live a life of mitzvot as a form of poetry.

The poetry of emunah is not to be found exclusively in Torah. It informs every aspect of human endeavor that is “Divine creativity”: “The pure understanding sees the appearance of the Divine in every improvement of life … It is all included in Divine creativity.” The realization of our humanity is included in the power of emunah— “Everything is included in her, and everything exists in her.”

The bifurcation of reality into that which is the Lord’s, and that which is Caesar’s, originates in the anti-life of Christianity which severs the material world from its foundation of holiness. This poison has also infected the body of the Jewish people. For there are those amongst us who in their zealousness to fight evil believe we must suppress science, arts, and political activity because they are not part of the Divine aspect of the world. Hence, “They hate culture, the sciences, and statecraft, in Israel and in the world.” This is a lack of emunah.

The Jewish people excels at integrating opposing forces into a balanced whole, the power of Torah, the power of Tiferet. Therefore we must not stifle any talent, any human propensity, from developing to its fullest. It must first be allowed to exhaust the individuality buried within it. Once its full nature has been revealed and drawn out, then, and only then may the Jewish genius for integration and synthesis, including the rolling back of excessive development, be brought into play. If we impede the power of human creativity in the name of “faith” we sin against emunah.

“The enslavement of human reason and its silencing destroys the world. The holier the source of enslavement, the greater the damage.”

What are we to do? It is not enough for intellect and emunah to dwell side by side within our soul. For we must not allow emunah to settle in a corner of ourselves where our intellectual powers have not reached. Our emunah would then be weak, and not worthy of us. We must unite intellect with emunah, so that in proportion to our intellectual achievement, emunah will be raised up.

“This is true not only of the individual, but also of the nation in general, and of the whole world, in the generality of humankind.”

These are the teachings of Rav Kook in Orot Ha-emunah.

. . . and the world grows warm for me, as the increasingly intricate pat terns of reality reveal themselves in the rays of the morning sun, in an on going adventure of discovery. Orot Ha-emunah—the lights of emunah.

Selections From “A Vision of Vegetarianism and Peace” By HaRav Avraham Yitzchak Kuk As edited by his disciple, HaRav David Kohen, the Nazir of Jerusalem Translated by Rabbi David Sears

The Just Treatment of Animals
Chapter 1

There is a fundamental part of a lofty, humane, and progressive sensibility that, according to the present state of the prevailing culture, exists today only in the pleasant dream of a few extremely idealistic souls: an innate ethical striving, a feeling for what is humane and just, to consider the rights of animals, with all that this entails.

Certain cruel philosophies, especially those that denied belief in God, according to their views on human ethics based upon reason, have advocated that man completely stifle within himself any sense of justice for animals. However, they have not succeeded, nor shall they succeed, with all their self-serving cleverness, in perverting the innate sense of justice that the Creator planted within the human soul. Although sympathy for animals is like the glow of a smoldering ember buried under a great heap of ashes, nevertheless, it is impossible for them to negate this sensitivity within every feeling heart. For as a rule, the lack of morality among all humanity consists in failing to heed the good and noble instinct not to take any form of life, whether for one’s needs or physical gratification.

Our sages did not agree with these philosophical views. They tell us that the holy Rabbi Yehudah HaNasi was visited with afflictions because he told a calf being led to slaughter, that had sought refuge in the skirts of his garment, “Go! This is the purpose for which you were created.” His healing, too, was brought about by a deed, when he showed mercy to some weasels (Baba Metzia 85a). They did not conduct themselves like the philosophers, who exchange darkness for light, for the sake of pragmatism. It is impossible to imagine that the Master of all that transpires, Who has mercy upon all His creatures, would establish an eternal decree such as this in the creation that He pronounced “exceedingly good,” that it should be impossible for the human race to exist without violating its own moral instincts by shedding blood, be it even the blood of animals.

Man’s Original Diet Was Vegetarian
Chapter 2

There can be no doubt in the mind of any intelligent, thinking person that when the Torah instructs humankind to dominate – “And have dominion over the fish of the sea, and over the birds of the sky, and over every living thing that moves upon the Earth” (Genesis 1:28) – it does not mean the domination of a harsh ruler, who afflicts his people and servants merely to fulfill his personal whim and desire, according to the crookedness of his heart. It is unthinkable that the Torah would impose such a decree of servitude, sealed for all eternity, upon the world of God, Who is “good to all, and His mercy is upon all His works” (Psalms 145:9), and Who declared, “The world shall be built upon kindness” (ibid. 89:3).

Moreover, the Torah attests that all humanity once possessed this lofty moral level. Citing scriptural proofs, our Sages explain (Sanhedrin 57a) that Adam was not permitted to eat meat: “Behold, I have given you every tree… yielding seed for food” (Genesis 1:29). Eating meat was permitted to the children of Noah only after the Flood: “Like the green herb, I have given you everything” (Genesis 9:3). Is it conceivable that this moral excellence, which once existed as an inherent human characteristic, should be lost forever? Concerning these and similar matters, it states, “I shall bring knowledge from afar, and unto my Maker I shall ascribe righteousness” (Job 36:3). In the future, God shall cause us to make great spiritual strides, and thus extricate us from this complex question.

Vegetarianism and Enlightenment
Chapter 12

When humanity reaches its goal of complete happiness and spiritual liberation, when it attains that lofty peak of perfection that is the pure knowledge of God and the full manifestation of the essential holiness of life, then the age of “motivation by virtue of enlightenment” will have arrived. This is like a structure built on the foundation of “motivation by virtue of the law,” which of necessity must precede [that of “motivation by virtue of enlightenment”] for all humanity.

Then human beings will recognize their companions in Creation: all the animals. And they will understand how it is fitting from the standpoint of the purest ethical standard not to resort to moral concessions, to compromise the Divine attribute of justice with that of mercy[1] [by permitting mankind’s exploitation of animals]; for they will no longer need extenuating concessions, as in those matters of which the Talmud states: “The Torah speaks only of the evil inclination” (Kiddushin 31b).[2] Rather they will walk the path of absolute good. As the prophet declares: “I will make a covenant for them with the animals of the field, the birds of the air, and the creeping things of the ground; I also will banish the bow and sword, and war from the land [and I will cause them to rest in safety. I will betroth you to Me forever; and I will betroth you to Me with righteousness, with justice, with kindness, and with compassion; and I will betroth you to Me with faith, and you will know God]” (Hosea 2:20).

Shechita: Humane Slaughter
Chapter 14

The act of slaughter (shechita) must be sanctified in a unique manner – “as I have commanded you” – with a minimum of pain to the animal. Thus, the person will take to heart the fact that this is a sentient being; he is not involved with a random object that moves about like an automaton, but with a living, feeling creature. He must become attuned to its senses, even to its emotions, to the feeling it has for the life of its family members, and to its compassion for its own offspring. Thus, it is biblically forbidden to kill the mother bird with her children on the same day, or to slaughter a calf before it is eight days old; and it is a positive precept to send away the mother bird before taking her young.

Cover the Blood
Chapter 17, abridged

“If anyone of the Children of Israel or a convert who joins them traps an animal or bird that may be eaten and spills its blood, he must cover [the blood] with earth” (Leviticus 17:13).

The obligation to cover the blood teaches us to see the shedding of a [non-domestic] animal’s blood as an act akin to murder; thus we should be ashamed to shed the blood of a [domestic] animal, as well. It was not deemed necessary to cover the blood of a domestic animal because it is slaughtered in an area where people are commonly found. Thus it is preferable to leave the blood of the animal in plain sight, that it may remind others that slaughtering an animal is like murder. This is not the case with [non-domestic] animals and birds that are trapped and slaughtered far from human habitation, whose blood is not seen. Here, by contrast, the obligation of covering the blood teaches that this is a shameful act.

Do Not Cook Meat and Milk Together
Chapter 20, abridged

“The first of the new produce of your land you shall bring to the house of the Lord, your God. You shall not boil a kid in its mother’s milk” (Exodus 23:19).

The mother animal does not live so that a person, simply by his right of ownership, may exploit her for his own purposes; rather, her milk is intended for her own young, whom she loves. The kid, too, is entitled by its natural disposition to the pleasure of its mother’s loving breast. However, the cruelty of the human heart, produced by our coarse materialism and moral weakness, distorts and perverts these principles. Thus, the tender kid, according to the assessment of man’s inferior ethical sensitivity, has no right to nestle against its loving mother, nor to enjoy the light of life, but deserves only to be slaughtered in order to provide food for the bellies of gluttonous human beings, whose debased souls insist, “I will eat meat” (Deuteronomy 12:20).

According to this, what should be the purpose of the milk, if not to cook in it the slaughtered kid? Is this not a natural combination of these two essential foods, the milk and the tender kid that derives nurture from it? However, humanity, let your ears hear something behind you, the voice of God that loudly cries out: “You shall not boil a kid in its mother’s milk.” No, the purpose of the kid is not merely to be food for your sharp teeth, sharpened and polished by your lowliness and gluttony in eating meat; and certainly the milk is not intended to be a condiment for the satisfaction of your base desire.

The Law of the Treifah
Chapter 26, abridged

“People of holiness you shall be unto Me; you shall not eat the flesh of an animal that was torn (treifah) in the field…” (Exodus 22:30).

Distinctive [among the traits of Israel] is the compassion that waits to blossom into manifestation from amidst the feelings of the pure-hearted, and spread from humanity to all living creatures. This compassion is nascent within the prohibition of eating neveilah (an animal that has died as a result of sickness) or a treifah (an animal that has died as a result of bodily injury).

Just as we naturally feel greater pity for sick or injured human beings than we feel for the healthy, the unfortunate injured animal deserves our additional sympathy. Having internalized the ethical implications of the Torah’s prohibition of eating the flesh of a torn animal, our hearts can fully experience the spirit of enlightenment that relates the precept of visiting the sick, prompting us to relieve their distress.

The commonality that exists between our feelings of compassion [for both animals and human beings] also expresses itself in connection with the need to guard our health, both spiritually and physically, and in not putting ourselves on the same plane as the predatory beasts. Rather, [the Torah] imposes upon us the further obligation to bring about their good, to benefit and to enlighten them. How could we consume the treifah lying in the field, which would appear like “dividing the spoil” with [the wild beasts], and constitute a tacit approval of their predatory habits?

It is true that, among the various categories of treifah discussed by the Talmudic sages, we must distinguish between a mortally injured animal in the field and a terminally ill human being. However, the suffering of both creatures calls for our compassion, which initially should be awakened on behalf of the wretched and the outcast. The law of the animal that died as a result of sickness prepares the heart to feel even greater repugnance toward exploiting the misfortune of other creatures in the event of their deaths. This sensitivity signals a sense of comradeship, sharing another’s pain, and our having entered the borders of their inner world. With this, the “motivation by virtue of enlightenment” will supercede the “motivation by virtue of the law,” causing us to distance ourselves from committing any evil upon these, our comrades in the universe, since we all come forth from the hand of One Creator, the Master of All His Works.

Animals During the Messianic Age
Chapter 31

At the end of days an inner thirst will prompt each person to search for someone upon whom to confer benevolence, upon whom to pour forth his overflowing spirit of kindness, but none will be found. For all humanity already will have attained happiness, living lives of delight, gratification, and prosperity in every sense – materially, ethically, and intellectually.

Then, with all its store of wisdom, its collective insight and experience, humanity will turn toward its brothers on lower levels of Creation, the mute and the downtrodden, including the animal kingdom. And they will seek means to share wisdom with them, to instruct and enlighten them according to their abilities, thus to elevate them from level to level. There is no question that humanity will take an active part in this when the time comes to accomplish this mission. Beyond all doubt, humanity will share the enlightenment of the Torah with the animal kingdom, affecting their physical development and, all the more so, their ethical and spiritual development. This state of enlightenment will reach such a lofty level that we cannot imagine it at present, due to our lowliness and lack of wisdom. All beings shall receive a new, exalted form – a new world. [This is implied by the words of our sages:] “If they so desired, the tzaddikim could create a world” (Sanhedrin 65b).

The Spiritual Perfection of Animals
Chapter 32

As a consequence of their spiritual elevation in general, the lofty level attained [by animals] in the course of their development will also affect their senses and feelings, to attune and refine them. Indeed, a higher nature comes with this. “And the oxen and the young donkeys who work the soil shall eat enriched food that was winnowed with the shovel and with the fan” (Isaiah 30:24). For according to the loftiness of their souls, the faculty of taste will be developed to a higher degree of sensitivity, as befits their spiritual stature.

With a “still, small voice” does the wisdom of Israel, the Kabbalah, speak: the level of animals in the future will partake of the level of humanity as it is today, due to the “ascent of the worlds.” [3]

This is the radiant vision the prophets disclosed to us of the civilized state that will be attained by the predatory animals of today: “And a wolf shall dwell with a lamb, and a leopard shall lie with a kid, and a calf and a lion cub and a fatling together, and a small child shall lead them. And a heifer and a bear shall graze together; their young shall lie down together, and a lion, like the ox, shall eat straw. And an infant shall play over a viper’s hole, and over the den of an adder shall a weaned child stretch forth his hand. They shall neither harm nor destroy in all My holy mountain; for the knowledge of God shall fill the Earth as the water covers the sea” (Isaiah 11:6-9).

NOTES

[1] Bereishis Rabba 8:4.
[2] See Sefer HaIkkarim 3:15.
[3] Kabbalistic literature describes the sequential emanation of four “worlds,” or levels of reality: Action, Formation, Creation, and Emanation. When the spiritual disharmony on a lower level attains tikkun, or rectification, that level enters into a state of unification and harmony with the level above itself. This process is known as aliyah, or ascent.

SELECTED LETTERS OF RABBI ABRAHAM ISAAC HAKOHEN KOOK

©2004 by Bezalel Naor

In a letter datelined Jaffa, 7 Tevet 5669/1909, Rav Kook describes to his disciple, Benjamin Menashe Levin, the custom that was prevalent in the Moroccan abattoir, as was related to him by a recently arrived shohet (ritual slaughterer) from Maghreb (Morocco):

He has found employment here [Jaffa] with the Sephardim. It was a discovery for him that the sh[ohet] ub[odek] (slaughterer and inspector) has to do the actual slaughtering. In Maghreb this is not the case. There the hakham (sage), who would be the analog to our sh[ochet] ub[odek], inspects the knife, and then passes it to a tabah (butcher). The butcher knows but the five laws of shehitah (ritual slaughter): shehiyah, derasah, haladah, hagramah, and åikkur. He slaughters, and after the hakham inspects the lung of the animal. With that, the work of the hakham is concluded.

I will tell you the truth. This arrangement finds favor in my eyes; it conforms more to the spirit of Yisrael Saba (the Jewish People). It goes against the clear emotions of the heart that a talmid hakham (Torah scholar), a spiritual man, should be permanently engaged in the taking of animals’ lives. Though shehitah (ritual slaughter)—and in general the consumption of animals—remains a necessity in this world, nevertheless, it would be fitting that this work be done by men who have not yet evolved to the level of refinement of feeling. The educated ethicists, on the other hand, should be supervisors (pekidim) to insure that the killing of the animals be not barbaric, and that there enter into this entire area of meat consumption an ethereal light which might one day illumine the world. This [light] is truly contained in the laws of shehitah (ritual slaughter) and tereifot (unfit animals), as is well known to us. (The footnote refers to Rav Kook’s essay, Afikim ba-Negev, published in Ha-Peless [Poltava, 1903], chaps. 8, 10.)

(Igrot Rayah, Vol. I, p. 230)

Rav Kook’s remark that the actual slaughtering should not be done by a sensitive person but rather by someone of more coarse emotions, may have its source in the mystical work Zohar. It is a well known fact that in olden days when sacrifices would be offered, the intial act of shehitah or slaughtering the animal could be performed by a zar, a person other than a kohen (priest descended from Aaron). The commandments of the priesthood commenced with receiving the blood in a vessel. The Zohar takes this a step further: Not only was the slaughtering acceptable if performed by a person other than a kohen—the slaughtering should not be performed by a kohen. The reason the Zohar gives for this prohibition (which is not standard Halakha or Jewish law) is that the kohen represents the attribute of hesed (love); therefore he should not be involved in the taking of life which is an act of din (judgment). See Zohar III, 124a; Rabbi Reuben Margaliot, Nizuzei Zohar ad locum; Rabbi Abraham Mordecai Alter of Gur, Mikhtevei Torah (Tel Aviv, 5747/1987), p. 108 (Letter 74).

Therefore, one is surprised when presented with the next several letters in which Rav Kook encourages his son Zevi Judah, a most sensitive soul, to learn the theory and practice of shehitah (ritual slaughter). Let us preface these letters with a bit of biographical background. In the year 1914 Rabbi Zevi Judah went to Europe to pursue secular studies. His ≥sponsor,≤ so to speak, was Rabbi Dr. Isaac Auerbach of Halberstadt, Germany. In Halberstadt, Rabbi Zevi Judah continued his Talmudic regimen while pursuing the field of mathematics and the study of European languages. Eventually, due to the outbreak of World War One, Rabbi Zevi Judah was forced to relocate to neutral Switzerland. Over a series of several letters we see Rav Kook goading his son to learn the discipline of shehitah. These letters span the years 1916-1917:

“It would please me if you would learn the work of slaughtering, in theory and practice, to fulfill the words of the sages. (If you could also learn circumcision, I would be very happy.) (According to the Talmud, Hullin 9a, a talmid hakham or Torah scholar must learn three things: writing, ritual slaughter and circumcision.—BN)

After looking into the future regarding justice for all animals, we recognize the steps prerequisite for the physical and spiritual world to ascend in order to reach the lofty goal, one of which is the theory of shehitah with all of its minute laws. Those very minutiae are what will bring about the holy light, the light of higher justice for the souls of all living creatures. It is a holy work to observe them [i.e. those laws] willingly and joyfully.” (Igrot Rayah, Vol. III, p. 48)

“Have you begun the study of shehitah, the use of the knife? Have you slaughtered fowl? I would be pleased if you would learn another one of the three things that a talmid hakham (Torah scholar) must know (Talmud Bavli, Hullin 9a). (Ibid., p. 49)

“I am pleased that you agree to study shehitah. I accept that you delay the study until after the holidays of Tishri. These days do not afford the tranquility necessary for one starting this expertise, especially if he be a poetic soul.

Regarding circumcision, it was but a suggestion. If you have the opportunity and the capability, it would be very worthwhile to fulfill the words of the sages regarding these three things by which a talmid hakham (Torah scholar) is distinguished. To my chagrin, I did not merit to this because of several obstacles.” (Ibid., p. 53)

“Let me know the state of your health and your eating habits. Do you eat meat in general or just fowl on the Sabbath, or perhaps during the week as well? How do you feel? Do your eating habits suit your physical and psychic health?” (Ibid., p. 69)

“It is several letters now that I have forgotten to inquire whether you are practicing shehitah. How does the matter appear to you? How do you relate to this holy work? For sensitive, thinking people, it requires will power, strength of character blessed with patience.” (Ibid., p. 79)

“Regarding your eating, my main concern is that you be exceedingly careful that your abstinence from eating meat not cause any weakening of your physical and psychic strength. Do not be captivated by those who Òskip over the mountainsÓ (a reference to Song of Songs 2:8—BN) within the movement for the prevention of cruelty to animals. It would appear that most of them have within the depths of their spirit a misanthropy and all the characteristics that accompany it. The proof of this is the place this movement occupies in the dark camp of the antisemites. Though there is room for this spark of light [i.e. animal welfare] to penetrate at times the great of spirit who aspire to holinessÉThe holy concept of uplifting the soul of the animal and the sparks of holiness, which is one of the mysteries of the Torah (razei Torah), contributes much more to the fortification of the human ethic, and to the wellbeing of all life, all existence, than anything that might be contributed by a spiritless compassion with its weakness and its anger combined.” (Ibid., p. 82)

(Rav Kook alludes to the Lurianic kabbalistic teaching that by consuming meat within a context of holiness, man raises the sparks of holiness contained within the animal to a higher level.—BN)

“Congratulations! I was overjoyed that you successfully completed the study of shehitah on a practical level. Beloved are the words of the sages who counted shehitah among three things that a talmid hakham (Torah scholar) is required to learn (Talmud Bavli, Hullin 9a).

Sensitive souls see the holy evolution of the world; generations progress according to a Divine plan. They rise up from the deep abyss to lofty heights of holiness. After several generations in which mankind went down from its greatness, from its specialty among life forms, from its ≥zelem Elohim≤ (image of God), Noah was permitted to eat meat (Genesis 9:3). Afterward, the world was further uplifted by the soul of Israel, which was instructed as to the kosher species and the method of killing wrapped in holy mysteries (razei kodesh)äIt is precisely these pathways that uplift all, man and beast togetheräFrom the North, from whence comes bad, will appear the light. [In Kabbalah, the North is associated with the attribute of judgment, din or gevurah. The slaughter of many, but not all, of the sacrifices took place in the north of the Temple.—BN]äGirded with stength (gevurah), full of love (hesed), we evolve to the love of all creations.

My profound thanks to Rabbi Dr. Asher, who prepared and instructed you in the work of shehitah.” (Ibid., pp. 119-120)

Bezalel Naor, Post-Sabbatian Sabbatianism (1999), pp. 109-113. Copyright 1999 by Bezalel Naor

Between the two world wars, there roamed the streets of Jerusalem a man who made a nuisance of himself, pestering the populace that he was the Messiah.
Finally the “Messiah” was brought to the Chief Rabbi of Jerusalem. Rav Kook asked to meet with the deranged man alone. After a few moments with Rav Kook, the “Messiah” never again boasted his claim.
Sometime later Rav Kook revealed what produced such a wondrous effect. “I told him: ‘The truth is, there is a spark of Messiah in every Jew. You obviously have received an especially large endowment. But the quality of the spark is such that it works only as long as one does not speak of it to others.’”

Unlike many Orthodox thinkers, Rabbi Abraham Isaac Hakohen Kook did not shy away from the subject of Sabbatianism. His published works reveal a more than fleeting interest in the entire Sabbatian phenomenon, from the initial impetus of Messianic activity surrounding the person of Shabbetai Zevi, to the Hayyon and Emden-Eybeschütz controversies, to that Polish offshoot of Sabbatianism, Frankism. This interest extends to both the external, historical, as well as internal, philosophical and psychological aspects. Rav Kook is even willing to rebut the author of ‘Or la-Yesharim ‘s comparison of Herzlian political Zionism to Sabbatianism.

In one of his earliest published essays, Derekh ha-Tehiyah, which translates into English as, “The Way of Renascence,” Rav Kook casts all human history, and specifically Jewish history, as a tug of war between the forces of learning and intellect on the one hand and the currents of psyche and charisma on the other. In general, Rav Kook views the various pseudomessianic movements that plagued the Jewish People in exile, and Shabbetai Zevi and Jacob Frank in particular, as eruptions of the soulful side of the collective Jewish personality. He refers to Zevi and Frank en passant as he attempts to put Hasidism in perspective:

Hasidism too came out of the demand of the psychic current that lay dormant. After the unsuccessful attempt of the latest false Messiah, Shabbetai Zevi, who lowered the psychic current to the level of insanity and wicked intoxication, and that culminated in all of its apostasy in the semi-official false Messiah Frank and his entourage—after all these, there was great apprehension lest the nation totally revile any vestige remaining to it of the hidden power of the living psychic currents, and revert to repetition of the letters and observance of the deeds, the commandments and the customs with a bent back and broken heart. (If that were the case) eventually the nation would not be able to survive for lack of freshness and upliftment of the soul.
This thing was felt by the great personality of the fathers of Hasidism, in which the godly psychic current was alive.

The approach to Sabbatianism is ambivalent. It may best be summed up by the advice of the Talmud regarding renegade Jews: “Push away with the left hand and bring close with the right.” Condemnatory of the excesses of Sabbatianism, the mental instability of its founder, and the self-imposed apostasy (nokhriyut ) of his spiritual grandson Frank, Rav Kook at once acknowledges the kernel of redeeming value in all this lunacy—a hankering for vital, existential, as opposed to rote, religion.
This “ambidexterity” will be Rav Kook’s approach to various chapters in Jewish history, whether it be the Christianity of Jesus of Nazareth, the pantheism of Baruch Spinoza7, or the Zionism of Theodore Herzl. Those who have criticized Chief Rabbi Kook for his support of and involvement in the Zionist movement, have too often failed to notice that the posture vis-`a-vis Zionism is but the most recent application of Rav Kook’s historical method.
Convinced of the essential godliness of the Jewish People, he is forever seeking to glean meaning from the aberrant and absurd. This posture of attempting to uncover hidden good in the ostensibly evil, is itself reminiscent of Sabbatian theology, thus exposing Rav Kook to unfair attack, when in truth, this paradoxical outlook precedes Sabbatianism, having its source in Zoharic and Lurianic Kabbalah.

Rabbi Kook is definitely no Sabbatian9. He points out to his correspondent Samuel Alexandrov the folly of considering the present decrepit world order the future of which it is said, “The commandments will be null in the future10,” citing as an example of this fool’s paradise the experiments of the Sabbatians “sunk into the depth of evil.”
He is not loath to point out to Rabbi Yahia Kafah of San’a that the book he quotes from,’Oz le-Elohim by Nehemiah Hiyya Hayyon, is an heretical work by a Sabbatian.
It is also not beyond Rav Kook to display empathy and understanding for Rabbi Jacob Emden’s disparagements of certain passages in Zohar, motivated as Emden was by the desire to undercut the Sabbatians, who to a large degree based themselves on Zohar.
And while on the subject of Emden’s untiring campaign against crypto-Sabbatians, let us mention that Rav Kook, when pressed by his personal secretary Simon Glitzenstein, revealed what he knew (or thought he knew) of R. Jonathan Eybeschütz’s youthful ensnarement by the Sabbatian heresiarch Löbele Prossnitz.
Abutting all this, Rav Kook knows the mysterious light, the pathetic, yet unredeemed sparks that beckon to us from fallen Messiahs.

. . . mysteries of Torah that as a result of their influence on those who delved into them without the proper preparation, have come to be rejected and abused. From this very light of life, from which improper influences produce world catastrophe and peril—precisely from it, will sprout eternal salvation.

Alter B.Z. Metzger, English translator of Orot ha-Teshuvah, correctly caught the veiled reference to Shabbetai Zevi and Frank, who in distorting the teachings of the Kabbalah, caused them to be reviled by a good portion of Jewry. But Rav Kook reassures us that these teachings need not produce the excesses of which Zevi, Frank and their followers were guilty. The potential for turning the elixir of life into poison, exists on every level of Torah understanding. All depends on the spiritual preparation (or lack thereof) of those involved in its study.
Perhaps the most startling of all Rav Kook’s statements concerning the would-be Messiahs, is the one occurring in the ill-fated ‘Arpilei Tohar 18 (and later in the more widely circulated Orot 19):

. . . the fetuses who stood to be Messiahs but fell, were trapped and broken. Their sparks were scattered and seek a living, enduring correction (tikkun) in the foundation of David, King of Israel, “the breath of our nostrils, the anointed (meshiah) of God.”

While it is not at all clear that Rav Kook includes in his list of Messiahs-in-potentia the likes of Shabbetai Zevi, perhaps reserving this distinction for a Bar Kochba revered by Rabbi Akiba, this does not dull the daring of the thought. That the child born after so many miscarriages (bar niflei ) will encompass in his soul the souls of his stillborn brothers, is truly remarkable. There is a poetic justice here. None of the unsuccessful Messiahs’ attempts at redemption were in vein; all contribute in some sense to the final Redemption.

Finally, for Rav Kook as for—mutatis mutandis—Sabbatians, “the light of Moses” and “the light of Messiah” are antithetical, being united only at the root of their souls in the “supernal splendor of Adam” (zihara ‘ila’ah de-adam ha-rishon). Though Messiah himself is not portrayed by Rav Kook as abrogating Mosaic law, the entire phenomenon of Messianism is painted in distinctly antinomian tones. Whereas Torah requires an attitude of shamefacedness and humility, Messiah thrives paradoxically on shamelessness, chutzpah. And Rav Kook is quite explicit as to what the chutzpah consists of: Sexuality, fleshliness, and forsaking Torah. As alarming as all this is, it is well within kabbalistic tradition that again, predates Shabbetai Zevi. One may find in MaHaRaL of Prague and SheLaH, and needless to say, in Zohar, similar expressions of the extralegal origins of Messiah, conceived from the less than immaculate unions of Lot and his daughters, Jacob and Tamar, Boaz and Ruth the Moabitess, David and Bathsheba, and Solomon and Na’amah the Amonitess. Yet there is a clarity and profundity of thought in Rav Kook’s pitting the two traditions, Mosaic and Messianic, against one another.

What puts Rav Kook decisively beyond the reaches of Sabbatian thought, is his formulation of a future in which, “once again the ‘supernal splendor of Adam’ will shine through the gathering of the two luminaries that are one, Moses and Messiah.” Unlike the Sabbatian who revels in the antinomianism of Messianism, Rav Kook’s ideal is the reunification of two traditions that have grown apart, the legal tradition of Moses and the extralegal tradition of Messiah.

From In the Desert A Vision (Midbar Shur): Rabbi Abraham Isaac Hakohen Kook on the Torah Portion of the Week / Translated by Bezalel Naor (Orot, 2000), Parshat Vayishlah (pp.43-49)

He said to him, “What is your name?” He said, “Jacob.” He said, “No longer will your name be called Jacob, but rather Israel, for you have striven with God and with men, and you have prevailed.Bar Kappara taught, “Whoever calls Abraham, ‘Abram,’ transgresses a positive commandment, as it says, ‘Your name will be Abraham.’” Rabbi Eliezer says, “He transgresses a negative commandment, as it says, ‘No longer will your name be called Abram’” . . . Perhaps the same should apply to one who calls Jacob, “Jacob”? There it is different, for the text itself later reinstated it (the name Jacob), as it says, “God said to Israel in visions of the night: ‘Jacob, Jacob’”

It is worthwhile to ponder the difference between these two patriarchs. Such gravity was attached to the change of Abraham’s name, that one who refers to him by his original name, Abram, transgresses both a positive and negative command. The name of Jacob, on the other hand, though similarly altered, remains as a residuum. One would have thought just the opposite. Abraham’s name was changed but once, whereas Jacob’s was altered twice, once by the angel, and a second time by God Himself. If anything, the change of Jacob’s name should have been irreversible.
In order to properly understand the significance of these shifts of nomenclature, we must first understand the essential roles these two patriarchs played in Jewish history. The rabbis opened a window: “‘Abram is Abraham.’ In the beginning, he was a leader of Aram, and at the end, he was a leader of the whole world.” But for the moment, this explication only adds to our confusion. To be father of a nation, of Aram, though not as grandiose as global leadership, is not bad! To bring up to someone who is a player on the world scene, that he was once at the forefront of national affairs, is not an insult. On the other hand, to throw up to an Israel that he was once a Jacob, a Ya’akov, which insinuates subterfuge and deceit, is a clear affront. Certainly, the ruling should have been reversed. Leniency is indicated in the case of calling Abraham by his erstwhile name, Abram; the stiffer judgment should have been meted out to one who slurs Israel by calling him “Jacob.”
The statement of the rabbis concerning Abraham contains a universalist message; it condemns in the harshest terms possible the evil of nationalism. There is a certain convention that has become accepted by practically the entire human race, and that is the right of every nation to aggrandize itself at the expense of other nations. Even supposedly righteous rulers are guilty of having shed blood to bring enhanced material prosperity to their nation, without so much as a thought to the havoc wreaked on surrounding nations. Even though human decency dictates that the individual not pursue success through the destruction of fellow humans, on the national level—so according to conventional wisdom—there is free license to achieve success, come what may. Even those who shun military exploits, are incapable of desiring the success of other nations to the same degree they seek their own nation’s advancement. The most righteous of individuals would find strange the thought that all human beings be given the same advantage seeing as one God created us in His image. This chauvinist thinking is so ingrained in human nature, that even the great champions of justice defend this notion by saying that the scientific and material development of the world requires that nations compete against one another.
Now one might receive the mistaken impression that the Torah endorses this attitude, whereby we should assign a greater value to our own people’s good than to the welfare of others. After all, the Torah commands the Children of Israel to conquer the land from the indigenous nations. But this is clearly unacceptable! How could God, Whose mercy extends to all His creations, oppress His own handiwork?! How could the Most High command that we remove from our hearts the well being of the entire human race for our own selfish good?! Therefore, at the time the covenant was first established with our ancestor Abraham, a divine protest was lodged: The very thought of nationalism is despicable to God, for He equates all mankind. The goal is to seek the true success of all God’s creations. True justice means that one views with equal concern the advancement of the entire human race.
Where then does the the notion of the “Chosen People” enter? The Jews were elected to work at uplifting the entire human race; to bring humanity to the goal the Almighty expects of it. Israel were set aside as a “kingdom of priests and a holy nation.” A kingdom of priests ministers to the other nations in order to morally perfect them. So the separation from the nations is itself the greatest unification, in order to benefit the human race. However, if Israel will desert the good, which is the holy Torah, then its nationhood and its territorialism are an abomination before God. It is inconceivable that for the sake of a people’s natural self-love, other nations should be displaced. All are God’s handiwork. Israel must know that no permission was granted to displace a nation for the sake of national self-aggrandizement. There is one form of justice, whether it be on the individual or collective level.Therefore, several times over, the Torah links the giving of the land to the observance of Torah. Without the raison d’etre of Torah, the setting apart of one nation, would be considered an injustice.
War? A war could be waged only if divine will had ordained that it was necessary for tikkun ‘olam, for setting the world right. Halakhically, a milhemet ha-reshut (optional war) could be authorized only by the king acting in consonance with the Urim ve-Thummim (oracle) and the Sanhedrin.
This is the import of God’s directive to our ancestor, “No longer shall your name be called Abram,” which, as the rabbis say, signifies leadership of the single nation of Aram. I have raised you beyond this norm of nationalism, which is but a convention, not true justice. Your heart should not be devoted exclusively to the benefit of Aram, but rather seek the peace of all God’s creations. “Your name shall be Abraham, father of a multitude of nations.” Your role is as father of all nations, of the entire human race. Seek out the wellbeing of all.
“One who calls Abraham, ‘Abram,’ transgresses.” By doing so, one causes Israel to regress to a state of nationalism. One makes a statement that Israel’s existence can be founded on nationalism. Nationalism, which is no more than a collective form of egoism, is a transgression. Israel’s election is just only if its basis is true universalism. Israel is to be “a father of a multitude of nations.”
Abraham represents a combination of two tendencies, universalism and separatism, but even his being separated from the world is in order to positively influence the world. His son Isaac again combines these two tendencies: Uniting with the world and retreating from it to preserve an ideal of kedusha (holiness). By the third generation, these two tendencies had grown apart; each of Isaac’s two sons inherited a different facet of his personality. In Esau, the aspect of worldliness was pronounced, but he was defiled by the world. In his twin brother Jacob, particularism was more pronounced. His allegiance was to preserving the ideal of kedusha (holiness); the goal of universalism will emerge on its own when the time is ripe. Esau was “a hunter, an outdoorsman,” which is another way of saying, a man of the world; “Jacob, a simple man, a homebody,” a man who cultivates his own innate spirituality in the hope that thereby the world will benefit.
If Esau would have utilized his worldliness with the proper intention, he could have attained true greatness. To share with the world the light of Abraham is indeed a great thing. It was for this reason that Father Isaac was so fond of Esau. Isaac thought that through Esau the promise of Abraham would be fulfilled; through Esau’s dealings with mankind, the world would be ennobled. Unfortunately, in the process of going out to the world, Esau lost the blessing, the gift of Abraham. Jacob’s so-called “usurping” of Esau’s birthright, came out of his desire to acquire the worldliness of his elder brother. To be sure, Jacob’s union with the world would not be immediate as was Esau’s. The world is not ripe yet. Jacob must bide his time. There is much work to be done to prepare the world for the goal of unity.“And Jacob remained alone.” As it says of the Holy One, “The Lord alone will be uplifted,” so “Jacob remained alone.”The situation of Jacob is lonely. The man of God, of the spirit, is lonely. Israel is “a people that dwells alone.” Throughout the generations, the “archangel of Esau” has atttempted to draw Israel out of its isolation. As Maimonides wrote in his Epistle to Yemen, historically, the nations of the world have attempted to vanquish Israel in two ways: Militarily, by the sword, and theologically, by the power of persuasion. This is the meaning of the verse, “For you have striven with angels and with men.” At times, Esau comes in the guise of an “angel”; he musters every possible theological argument to dissuade Jews from Judaism. Alternatively, Esau comes with the weaponry and armaments of “men.”
In the relations between Jacob and Esau there is symmetry. Esau (or his archangel) touches the thigh of Jacob; Jacob holds Esau by the heel. Until the nations of the world learn to respect “Israel,” who “has striven with angels and with men and overcome,” there is yet room for the residual name of Jacob. The Hebrew Ya’akov refers to the fact that at birth, he held onto his twin’s heel (‘Ekev). Jacob must yet hold onto Esau’s heel, just as Esau impinges on Jacob’s thigh.