B"H
The ancient wisdom of Proverbs whispers to us: “For a Mitzvah is a candle, the Torah is light; and ethical admonishment the path of life.” These words invite us into a deep, spacious mystery, one that calls us to pause and ponder: What is this “path of life”? Is it distinct from the Torah and its mitzvot, or is it their very flowering within us? And why this tender imagery—a Mitzvah as a candle, Torah as light? Let us sit with these questions, allowing them to unfold in the quiet of our hearts.
In the Jewish tradition, the sages offer us a lens: a Mitzvah, they say, is like a single candle, its flame flickering, offering protection for a moment. A Mitzvah is a sacred act, a gesture of love that lights up the darkness but fades in time. Torah, however, is light itself—boundless, eternal, like the dawn breaking over the horizon, illuminating all things forever. The Shaloh, a mystical voice, speaks of Torah as a great bonfire, fierce and uncontained, while the sages evoke the steady radiance of daylight. Both images stir us, yet daylight holds a deeper power, for it reveals the world in its fullness, unveiling the unity beneath all things.
This interplay of candle and light draws us into the heart of creation itself. The Torah teaches that the world was born of G-d’s word—“With the word of G-d, the heavens were created”—and yet, it also sings, “Whatever G-d desired, He did.” Here lies a paradox: creation flows from both G-d’s speech and G-d’s will. Speech shapes the matter of existence, the raw stuff of heavens and earth, as when G-d said, “Let there be light,” and light was. But the form—the roundness of the heavens, the intricate beauty of a leaf—arises from G-d’s desire, clothed in the wisdom of Chochmah. This wisdom is no mere intellect; it is the “dark light,” the mysterious source that measures and molds every being, whispering to each its unique place in the tapestry of existence.
Why, then, does creation need both speech and wisdom? If all were born of G-d’s will alone, the world would dissolve into the Divine, like a drop returning to the ocean. There would be no “something” to stand apart, no yesh to sing its own song. G-d’s speech, the attribute of Malchus, creates this space of separation, this seeming independence. It is the king’s command, exalted and sovereign, that brings forth the world as yesh mei’ayin—something from nothing. Yet, this “something” is never truly apart, for it carries within it the form of G-d’s desire, a spark of the infinite wisdom that longs to be known.
Here, we touch the ultimate purpose of creation: that the yesh, the “something,” might turn back toward the ayin, the “nothingness” of G-d’s essence. This is the Divine longing—to dwell among us, in the lowliness of this material world, as a guest in our homes. The Zohar speaks of this as the union of “sublime light and lower light,” where G-d’s will flows through wisdom into speech, granting life to all. Our mitzvot, those flickering candles, are our participation in this dance. Each act of kindness, each prayer, each moment of justice kindles a light that draws the Divine closer, preparing the world for the great revealing, the Era of Redemption, when G-d’s glory will shine as brightly here as in the heavens.
This is our lifelong work: to live in such a way that our yesh—our ego, our separateness—softens into bittul, a humble self-nullification. The Jewish soul, formed with two yuddim, carries a double portion of Divine wisdom, a capacity to wrestle with angels and prevail. Through Torah and mitzvot, we align our form with G-d’s desire, allowing the light of ayin to shine through us. This is the “path of life”—not a road apart from Torah, but its living embodiment, a way of being that transforms our portion of the world into a dwelling place for the Holy One.
As we walk this path, let us hold the candle of each Mitzvah gently, knowing it is a fleeting but precious offering. Let us open to the light of Torah, vast as daylight, that guides us home. And let us trust that our small acts of love are weaving a world where G-d’s presence will be seen “eye to eye,” a world where the beauty of the Divine is as at home in our hearts as in the highest heavens.
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