Parashat Yitro includes the first description of the Israelite people receiving the Torah at Mount Sinai directly from God. But the extent of that revelation has been debated ever since. In Deuteronomy, Moses says: “God spoke those words to your whole congregation at the mountain, out of the fire and the dense clouds, with a mighty voice — and no more.” (Deuteronomy 5:19) This seems to be setting a clear boundary: The people heard the Ten Commandments and nothing else.
But Targum Onkelus, the ancient Aramaic translation of the Torah, understood the word translated above as “more,” yasaf, to be related to the Hebrew root for “end.” That leads the Targum to render the final phrase like this: “a great voice that never ceased.”
In its commentary on Parashat Yitro, the Zohar follows the Targum’s lead:
R Yossi said: In the Torah, the word “sounds” (Exodus 19:16) is spelled KLT [without the necessary letter Vav. This implies] one mighty and powerful sound that never ended. It is the “great voice that never ceased” (Deuteronomy 5:19). Other voices cease, as we know that at the four annual transitions of the seasons, sound ceases and judgement rises in the world. But this voice includes all other voices within it and never ceases, it is never less than fully present, in full power. We have learned: This is the voice of all voices, the voice that encompasses all voices.
We experience everything in rhythms marked by pauses and changes. The Zohar describes even the flow of time as pausing between seasons. But the divine voice that originated at Sinai is always present, encompassing all voices that ever existed. The Zohar is asking us to imagine the revelation at Sinai as the Big Bang of Jewish tradition. Every bit of Torah ever written, spoken, heard, imagined or created from that time until the end of history was present in that one moment when the people stood in the presence of God. And from that moment it started expanding outwards, and is still expanding to this day, galaxies of Torah speeding outwards through human lives.
Keep My Jewish Learning free. In this season of freedom, help us keep Jewish connection and meaning free for everyone. Your support ensures that anyone seeking Jewish wisdom can find it here, without needing to cross the red sea (or a paywall).
The second introduction to Tikunei Zohar, an early elaboration of the Zohar, describes the creation of the Zohar as an act of tuning into this flow of Torah that began at Sinai.
It says: “And the knowledgeable will be radiant like the bright expanse of sky, and those who lead the many to righteousness will be like the stars forever and ever” (Daniel 12:3)
This refers to Rabbi Shimon and his companions – Rabbi Elazar his son, Rabbi Abba, Rabbi Yossi, Rabbi Hiyya, Rabbi Yitzhak and the other companions. It is they who shine with a supernal light. “Like the bright (k’zohar) expanse of sky.”
What is “the bright expanse of sky”? This alludes to the fact that this book was composed with the support of the supernal ones who named it – The Zohar. “And those who lead the many to righteousness” – with this book, will be numerous “like the stars” whose light will not darken “forever and ever”.
When this book was composed, Elijah was given authority to participate with them in it, together with the masters of the study halls above and below, and the hosts of supernal angels and souls. They all came together in agreement and friendship.
When Rabbi Shimon bar Yohai and his disciples gathered to learn Torah, they did not do so on their own. The light of their learning shines “forever and ever” — precisely because all the prior generations of Torah, and even the angels and souls who study in the heavenly study halls, take part in their learning. Their learning is thus attuned to, and part of, the mighty voice that originated at Sinai and never ceased.
This image of cross-generational partnership is even more powerful if we consider that the Zohar, though composed in the voices of Rabbi Shimon and his fellowship, was actually written by another group living in 13th century Castille. This group reaches out across the centuries to the earlier group, who they imagine doing the exact same thing — tuning in to an ahistorical flow of Torah through ancestral generations. This is why they believe that the book they are creating together will “lead many to righteousness.” It is created as an embodiment of this learning process, a gateway into the “voice that never ceases.” In predictable Jewish fashion, the gateway to this world is not hiding in a wardrobe, but behind the cover of a book.
To learn Torah this way is a practice, a cultivation of both knowledge and an imaginal consciousness. When I sit down to learn, I imagine myself taking a seat at the endless table where the entire process of Torah is playing out. The more I have listened and internalized the conversation that preceded me, the more my learning is happening in that context, merging with that flow of thoughts, words and sounds.
The sanctuary of that practice is the beit hamidrash, the house of study. Its walls are covered with books full of conversations of Torah, evoking the presence of an entire lineage. The bookshelves are the equivalent of an altar upon which one might put an icon or pictures of the saints. There are the elders and the prophets, the Tanaim and Amoraim, the writers of law codes and responsa. In these books are also people who were not authors, men and women whose lives shaped and were shaped by this conversation. People who lived 2,000 years ago and people who live with us today and people yet to be born. This is the gift of Torah, and this is the gift of the Zohar.
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.
