Flowing Like Tree Sap

One function of the Zohar's unique literary form is seen in the way it mixes metaphors of bodies and trees.

Sticky resin dripping from weathered bark of cherry tree growing on rural site.
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The literary forms of the Zohar are as much a part of its teaching as its content. One example of this would be the way it often employs multiple metaphors in a single passage, blurring the boundaries between them until the reader is no longer sure which image belongs to which metaphor and where the metaphor ends and the actual matter it is describing begins. 

Which is exactly the point. The God the Zohar is introducing can only be spoken of in metaphors and metaphors are partial, capturing only a single dimension of Truth. By connecting metaphors together, the Zohar cultivates an experience of the all-encompassing wholeness of God instead of just talking about it. 

One example of this is found in a passage from Tikkunei Zohar, an appendix to the Zohar published in the 14th century. The text imagines Elijah the prophet joining Rabbi Shimon bar Yohai and his school for a learning session. In his opening statement, Elijah introduces God, focusing on the tension between God’s infinite, incomprehensible nature on the one hand, and God’s immanent presence in the universe on the other. One of the symbols he uses to articulate this tension is the symbolic structure of the sefirot, and one of the images he uses for this structure is the human body.

They [the sefirot] are known in the following structure:

Hesed, the right arm, Gevurah, the left arm, Tifferet, the torso, Netzah and Hod, the two legs, Yesod, the lower end of the torso — where the sign of the holy covenant is, Malkhut, the mouth — we call it Torah in the Mouth.

Hokhmah, the mind — inner thought, Binah, the heart, the heart’s understanding. Of these last two it says – that which is hidden is of HVYH our Elohim. The supernal Keter is also the Keter of Malkhut, and of this relationship it says “the end is drawn from the beginning” (Isaiah 46:10). It is also the tefillin upon the head.

Inside all of this is the name Yud Hay Vav Hay, the path of emanation, the liquid flowing in the tree moving through its boughs and branches, like water flowing through the tree, making the tree grow.

Tikunei Zohar, 17a

Let’s set aside the details of what each sefirah represents here and focus instead on the movement between the metaphors. The main image in this passage is clearly the human body. Just as we acknowledge separate parts of our bodies while recognizing that they exist as elements of one living being, so too we can acknowledge different powers and appearances of divinity even as we know that they exist only as aspects of the One. Like the limbs and organs of the human body, some divine appearances are external and manifest in doings and happenings, while others are internal thoughts and feelings accessible only inside God.

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Then we are told that God’s holy name runs through all these sefirot/body parts. This is described as “the path of emanation,” which is to say the movement of the Infinite into limited forms. The act of giving a name to that which is beyond comprehension is in itself an expression of this movement. The deepest core of these forms, whether they are divine powers or human limbs, is the Infinite, the totality of being, or HVYH (the letters of the tetragrammaton reordered to create a new divine name, the Hebrew word for “Being”).

Within the body metaphor that the Zohar has been working with, what represents this inner core? Is it the blood? The nervous system? DNA? The soul? We are left without an answer, because the Zohar abruptly switches metaphors. Now the Infinite, the divine core of being, is flowing through existence like sap and water moving through a tree.

Using the human body as a metaphor for divine dynamics pushes us to search for the divine within our own bodies. But just as we seek to imagine the presence of the Infinite within, the text pivots to present the flow of divinity as a tree with water and sap flowing through it. The change is sudden, but the inward orientation doesn’t change. The reader is still looking inside, but now as a tree. And is that actually such a change at all? When reaching out for the Infinite, are we really so different from the tree? Are we not all branches of that One, endless Being? More than anything the Zohar actually says, immersion in the flow of this textual form offers an experience of connecting to the Infinite.

While trees always have water and sap in them, the levels of flow change seasonally. In New England, where I live, the rising sap in maple trees in February marks the beginning of syrup-making season. This is actually not that distant from the lunar date of the 15th of Shevat, which the Mishnah, a product of a different climate entirely, chose as the date of Tu Bishvat, the beginning of a new year for trees. Rashi explains that this date was chosen since it is the point at which most of the rainy season has passed, the sap is rising and the tree’s fruits will soon begin to form. 

This explanation is striking because Rashi identifies the new beginning not with an externally visible moment like the first blossoms or the budding of leaves, but with an internal process. This evokes the image we have just studied — the unseen movement of the sap is recognized as the movement of the infinite force of life and being within all of creation. Tu Bishvat marks the beginning of this seasonal flow and as such can serve as a ritual attunement to the movement of the Infinite with us, the divine that is not limited by the names we give it or by our current perspective. Consciousness of this internal movement, even when it is still dark and cold, even when externally it looks like nothing has changed, opens the possibility for something new. And thus we, in our human bodies, have the opportunity to celebrate the new year of the trees.

This piece was originally published as part of A Year of Zohar: Kabbalah for Everyone, an original series produced by My Jewish Learning and Sefaria. Sign up for the entire series here.

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