in which one places … dry leaves, or birds’ feathers, or garlic peels. [If] one places his mouth by the opening of the vessel, and blows forcefully till the entire vessel is full of his breath, then whatever is inside the vessel will rise to the middle of the air on account of the wind within—so too the earth is suspended in mid-air.”79 An array of other meteorological phenomena are explained by analogy with everyday observations. Thus the appearance of lightning can be attributed to the “heavenly water jars” (following Job 38:37) striking one another, which produces lightning in the same manner that hitting rocks together creates sparks.80 The origin of rain can be traced to the heavenly waters, which were separated by God from the lower waters on the second day of creation, and which are now in close proximity to the heat of the sun. That this contact causes rain to fall can be understood in light of “a man who brings a vessel full of water into a bathhouse—because of the heat, [the vessel] will start to sweat” and to drip due to condensation.81
The role of water in the Creation account is explored empirically elsewhere as well. Eleazar argues that the water that God initially created was fresh water, not salt water; the latter came into being only later, when “pure” water mixed with the “mountains of salt” that were made later in the process of Creation: “And anyone who wants to understand the truth, [which is] that the oceanic waters were initially sweet, and became salty on account of the mountains of salt, should construct a glass vessel, like those used by artisans to distill rosewater, and [use it to] separate out the sweet water, leaving the salt by itself. The moisture of the water rises within the vessel due to the heat of the fire, just as it rises upwards from the earth, leaving the salt behind in the bottom of the vessel.”82 Eleazar’s familiarity with the mechanics of distillation allows him to explicate—and in theory, to experimentally recreate—the workings of God’s creative activities.
Analyzing the process and workings of ma’aseh bereishit—the created world—by means of empirical proofs from the natural order seems fitting, and is in keeping with the theological value attributed to observable “remembrances” described above. But significantly, the Pietists harness natural phenomena even in their discussions of ma’aseh merkavah, the most recondite and transcendent contents of Jewish esotericism. As scholars have long noted, the Pietists transmitted (and perhaps even originated) the sod ha-egoz (“secret of the nut”), a cryptic motif in which the spatial structure of the divine chariot (merkavah) corresponds precisely to the anatomy of a walnut: the exterior shell and interior membranes and chambers are laid out in the same intricate configuration as the fire, electrum, and angels that Ezekiel observes in his famous vision.83 In one passage attributed to Eleazar, this secret is explicitly linked to Psalms 111:4, again indicating that, for the Pietists, theological truths can be derived from routine objects and phenomena found in the natural world.84
But structural analogies of this sort are complemented elsewhere by passages in which elements of the merkavah can be comprehended on the basis of experimental data. In Ezekiel’s prophecy, for example, the angelic “wheels” (ofanim) of God’s chariot are described as “crystalline” (ke-ein tarshish). Eleazar explains that this means that they are transparent, a conclusion he draws in light of empirical verification: “If you place crystals (even tarshish) in clear water in the sunlight during the summertime, the stone, which is [itself] clear and transparent, will not be visible.”85 The nature of prophecy itself can be understood by analogy with yet another sensory observation: “The voice [heard by the prophets] is audible but not visible … and is similar to when a man walks through a valley in a mountainous area, where the mountains around him are jagged. When the man speaks, his words mix with the air in the crevices, and when he ceases speaking the mountains echo his words back to him. If he spoke in a loud voice, the echo is loud, and if [he spoke] quietly [the echo is] quiet. [This happens] even though there is nothing there but air—and this is similar to how a bat kol is heard.”86 The workings of echoes thus shed light on the workings of divine aural revelation. Other natural phenomena are marshaled to identify the locations of sacred spaces. The fact that the Garden of Eden is in the east is demonstrable in light of the fact that “the sky is red in the [morning] due to the splendor of the flowers and fiery stones that are in Eden,” while Gehenna’s location in the west explains why “from the fiery flames, the sun is blood red when it is in the [west].”87
Eleazar discusses other elements of the throne world by reference to artisanal knowledge, reminiscent of his discussion of distillation above. For example, in describing the intensity of the Dinur River, which is referred to in the book of Daniel and which, according to the Talmud, consists entirely of flowing fire,88 Eleazar avers that “when gold is boiling in the melting pot, its fire is larger than a fire of [burning] wood. Know, that if one places lead into a fire, it will not melt quickly, but if you place it into boiling silver or boiling gold, it will melt instantaneously.”89 Knowledge of metallurgy is also brought to bear in a cryptic discussion of what happens when different angelic legions go to war with one another. He explains: “If one were to ask: ‘Who can harm an angel in war, since they live eternally?’ … An example is iron which is being heated in a fire—when one hits it with a hammer, sparks fly [but the iron is not shattered]…. So too one angel cannot kill another.”90 Here and elsewhere,91 metallurgical knowledge is invoked for theological ends, as are an array of empirical observations drawn from other artisanal crafts. These technological discussions indicate that the Pietists’ general interest in the natural order was complemented by at least some technical knowledge in those fields in which empirical observations regarding the workings of the natural were harnessed and applied.92
A final example of the invocation of natural phenomena to lend credence to esoteric theological teachings can be found in Eleazar’s discussion of the angel Yorkmi, whom the Talmud had identified as the angel appointed over hail (sar ha-barad).93 As Eleazar explains: “All angels are named after the mission to which they are appointed. For example, Yorkmi is the angel appointed over hail, for when sunlight strikes hail it appears to be green (yarok), as though green fire is being kindled within the hail. [Similarly,] moist tree-branches produce green fire [when they are burned], because of the mixture of water and smoke. Thus Yorkmi [is named on account of the] greenness of water (yorkei de-maya).”94 The “greenness of water” is expanded upon in another context, where Eleazar invokes experimental knowledge in discussing the colors of plants: “You will never find buds [of plants] that are any color other than green, like the color of leeks, because water is the ‘master’ of the earth, and the earth desires it.95 Thus it produces plants that are green, like [water]. For if you put rainwater in a stone vessel, and wait for many days, it will turn green. But during the summer the planets rule alongside the sun, and the rainbow, which has many different colors, is present during the summer, thus the buds turn into a variety of different colors.”96 For Eleazar, the green algae that forms in standing water is taken to be the culmination of a process in which water’s true color reveals itself. This empirical confirmation of water’s “greenness” not only undergirds his efforts to understand plant botany, but even to shed light upon the nature of God’s angelic messengers. It also allows Eleazar to explore the nature of tohu (nothingness), the term used in Genesis 1:2 to describe the formlessness of the world prior to Creation. Rabbinic sources had cryptically defined tohu as “the green line (kav hayarok) which surrounds the entire world.”97 In Sodei Razya, Eleazar explains that this green line is “like the green that is on the surface of the water.”98 And in another, somewhat obscure passage, he seems to explain that tohu’s description as a green line links it to the horizon—if one wants to visually apprehend tohu, he says, one should go out to sea in a boat, wait to be lifted up by a wave, and then look around in all directions at the line where the land meets the sky.99 The angel Yorkmi, the nature of tohu, and the biological workings of plants are all newly comprehensible once the fundamentally green nature of water is understood. The empirical observation of physical “remembrances” thus sheds light upon—and inextricably connects—the “natural” and ostensibly “supernatural” realms,
