Why the Descent of the Soul?
Why would G-d take the soul, which is a part of Himself, and force it to descend into a physical world clad in a physical body? To make the question even stronger – and which will serve as the key to the answer – we can add: Why did G-d put all the temptations, the blandishments of evil and all the obstacles to the soul in our very faces, making it almost impossible for the soul not to be affected adversely?
To answer this question, mystical thought – particularly in the Chassidic literature – we find reference to a Talmudic expression that is used in the context of the law of unintentional murder, that sheds light on our dilemma.
If a person carelessly allows a lethal instrument to be thrust away from himself and that unintentionally cause the death of a bystander, the Torah demands that the one at fault be exiles to specially designated “Cities of Refuge.” Jewish law, however, makes a distinction between causing the death by a thrust of the instrument in a downward motion. The question discussed by the Talmud is in the instance where the person was lowering himself to take a swing and in so doing accidentally killed a person. Since the perpetrator’s intention was to raise the instrument in an upward motion, do we then consider his downward thrust to be as if it were an upward motion.. This is called “Yeridah tzorech aliya-the descent is for the purpose of ascent.”
From this Talmudic case we can derive a general principle in all matters of life. When a person experiences a decline of their spiritual state of being, it is not considered a decline if the objective is the ultimate growth and upward motion that one experiences in the end.
Translating this into the question of the soul and its descent into the physical world, the soul’s downward mobility is actually a prelude for its upward mobility. We therefore consider the descent to be part of the process of ascent.
But, we are getting ahead of ourselves. Before we can try to understand how going down is actually going up, let us glean from the talmudic expression that “descent is for the purpose of ascent” its most obvious connotation.
Yes, it is definitely true. The soul is certainly going from “the high roof to the low pit,” to borrow a Talmudic expression. But, in the end, the soul will ascend, or experience a measure of growth, to a level that is far higher than the soul could ever have achieved on her own.
The second point to be gleaned form the Talmudic analogy, is that when a temporary decline is followed by, and is the catalyst for, an eventual spurt of growth, then the temporary decline is actually considered to be part of that ascent. We should not view the soul’s sojourn in this world as a necessary evil. Neither should one think, “I have to waste 100 years before I can get somewhere.” On the contrary. And in the spirit of the saying “getting there is half the fun,” we can say that the process of the soul “getting there” (wherever “there” is – to be discussed later), is an integral part of being there.
To remind us of the soul’s plight, G-d gives us all a taste of the soul’s decline and descent into this world. Whenever we feel down, depressed or just plain dissatisfied with ourselves, it is a signal from the soul that says to us: “You think your doing badly? Imagine me, the soul, that was a part of G-d and am forced to be a part of the most banal, profane and even evil world.”
The good news, however, is that the soul is not here to punish it, but to serve as a catalyst to grow and therefore even its down period is a part of its up period. Upon reflection, we should be able to tell ourselves that the same is true about all of the negative experiences of life. They are all but stepping-stones to better and higher levels of goodness. But, even when we haven’t yet realized that goodness, the mere fact that they are preludes to it, renders them good as well.
To be sure, lest there be a misunderstanding, the above was not intended to be used as a way of explaining away and justifying someone else’s misery. Certainly, Jewish law (and certainly Jewish mystical thought) expects of us, that when we see another person’s suffering we should: firstly, do everything in our power to get the person out of it; secondly, implore G-d to alleviate that person’s suffering and thirdly, to not justify it. Only after these three provision are met, may we then try to use the above or any other “rationalization” for suffering to help the person cope with it. And this should only be done when there is no danger that it might actually demoralize the person when they misconstrue the message and may think that you are telling them that their suffering might be necessary. Then, and only then, is it permissible to put the suffering into perspective. One may of course, apply this to ones own suffering, especially when it will not only allow us to cope with adversity but it will also encourage us to get out of the rut by increasing our good efforts.
But, the question still persists. Why does G-d have to subject the soul to all of the suffering it experiences in this world, in order for it to reach an even higher level in the next world? What is it about this world that enables the soul to realize something spiritual that it did not have before it descended?
Moreover, we are told that the soul’s passion for G-d when it is in the body of even the most saintly and spiritual person can not even come close to the level of passion the soul had for G-d before it was placed in the physical body. That means that even after a lifetime of the most strenuous positive activity, one, in the best of circumstances, can not even get close to the degree of intensity the soul had when it was unencumbered by the body. Why then subject the soul to all of this torture, when the benefit that it may receive does not seem to match the benefits it loses?
We will leave the answer to this question for the next chapter.
From the book Safe Kabbalah, Part Three: Journeys of the Soul by Rabbi Heschel Greenberg, published by the Jewish Discovery Center.
