The lash of fire and the light beyond the veil

“Pulsa denura – פולסא דנורא” is a specifically Talmudic expression, further developed within Kabbalistic movements. “Pulsa – פולסא” is an Aramaic term meaning: “disk or round plate,” or also a “ring,” initially used as a weight measure or as currency – piles, pilas – פילס as indicated in Talmud Baba Metzia 47b, or pulsin – פולסין (Leviticus Rabbah 37). It may be important to recall that money, even the smallest coin, carries a sense of value and recognition throughout Jewish tradition—as well as in the Gospels.

By extension, “pulsa” in the compound expression “pulsa d’nura – פולסא דנורא” referred to disks heated “white-hot – incandescent,” which were attached to whips, as mentioned in Talmud Baba Metzia 85b: “(in the heavens) they inflicted this punishment on him by giving him sixty lashes pulsey d’nura – פולסי דנורא = with incandescent disks.” This verse is absent from some editions and is connected with the Day of Atonement in Talmud Yoma 77a. The expression is also found in Talmud Hagigah 15a. Rashi sees the verse in Baba Metzia 47b as indicating a threat of excommunication against a person.

This is most likely the sense in which the term should be understood. In the Zohar, the term appears only once (Raya Mehemna – רעיא מהימנא, 3:263). There remains a persistent fascination with the desire or impulse to curse rather than to bless—something that stands in stark contrast with the core of Jewish vocation and thought (Genesis 22:18).

With the exception of capital sentences—which are in any case no longer possible today due to the absence of the Temple and prescribed sacrifices—excommunications (herem – חרם), Judaism does not authorize anyone to curse another person. Daily life, particularly in Jerusalem, might suggest otherwise, as some people invoke curses with ease, almost automatically. But the truth is, to bless requires great faith in the idea that God might use us as His instruments.

The Age of Enlightenment is often seen as the turning point when “herem – חרם,” or “excommunication,” became virtually impossible in Jewish society—or at least within the civilization of Yiddishkayt—as secular society began to recognize Jews as citizens. Some countries quickly absorbed large sections of Jewish society. But this was not the general rule. I have known individuals who chose exile from Poland or Russia to avoid the threat of excommunication. The herem pronounced against Jewish Christians is often cited. This remains a very relative issue in Israel, especially against Messianic Jews – meshikhim – משיחים. Marc Chagall and Sholem Asch were nearly excluded from the Jewish community for their Christian-leaning tendencies (in painting, and in writings about Mary, the mother of Jesus).

In contrast, the “pulsa d’nura” as a “death curse” has been persistently mentioned in connection with certain key figures in the formation and development of Israeli society. Despite unclear denials, it seems the first to have received this curse was Eliezer Ben Yehuda, the “reviver” of modern spoken Hebrew.

The justification for such a “death curse” (entirely opposed to biblical or Talmudic rulings) in Ben Yehuda’s case is the same one that recurs as threat or rumor: the deep conflict between the religious world of Jewish Faith and the coherence—or incoherence—of the Jewish community placed at risk in its role as Witness of God.

Is it lawful or unlawful to cease speaking any language—even Yiddish—in order to develop and revive Hebrew, the sacred tongue (lashon haQodesh – לשון הקודש)? Eliezer Ben Yehuda’s choice met with violent rejection. Yet Hebrew had always been written and occasionally used as a vernacular when necessary. Ben Yehuda opened the sacred language to the so-called secular world, which poses an existential question for the “Guardians of the Faith”, who, often under inhuman conditions, preserved Jewish witness, especially that of the Talmud.

The pulsa d’nura has also been invoked in the case of archaeologists conducting excavations in particularly “holy” places. But it was especially associated with the threat against Yitzhak Rabin, followed by his assassination, the rejection of Shimon Peres’ candidacy by the Ger Rebbe, and the election of Moshe Katsav, with the support of the late Rav Yitzhak Kaduri and the agreement of the Lubavitcher Rebbe—though this has since become a serious legal issue. The decision to withdraw from the Gaza Strip, and the associated rumors of a “curse” against Ariel Sharon, followed by his coma (he was already in poor health)—all these events support a deeper societal problem. Politics and politicians, those in charge of the existence and future of the Hebrew State, could indeed be targeted by some pulsa d’nura. It presupposes to take the action of banning official personalities with a spirit of banning the wrongdoings that imperil the Jewish People and its traditional values, ethics.

Haredi Zionism has always distrusted the civil Jewish society and its tendency to abandon the ol hamitzvot – עול המצות, the yoke of the Commandments (which is “light” because it “lifts,” as in the Gospel), in favor of excessive secularism. Judaism is both fascinated by holiness and by the world of faith, prayer, intercession, and redemption. Through its institutions, is the State of Israel a witness of prophetic action? One could say that the revival of Hebrew is a wholly unexpected and very positive element for both the Jewish and international communities. The late Rav Yeshayahu Leibowitz indeed saw in it a unique and innovative dimension.

Thirty or even only fifteen-twenty years ago, signs asking women to dress “modestly” were written in Yiddish in Mea Shearim. Hardly any Hebrew was heard there—certainly less than today in all Haredi groups. This could indicate a long-term change.

At this moment, the commandment to love God and one’s neighbor—and the stranger—remains a top priority for all inhabitants of Jerusalem – Yerushalayim – ירושלים – Hierosolymon. Heavenly and earthly peace. The city’s name is in the plural, both in Hebrew and in Greek. We do find such call to the peace from High and earth in the Byzantine tradition of Gregory Palamas for whom, patience, quietness, decency and Light reveals the good way to welcome each other (Poetry and early Greek Religion, University of Cambridge):

“Our hearts have grown loud with vanities,
our eyes dulled by shadow-lights.
Yet deep cries to deep, and the heavens, in mercy, answer
with the fire that cleanses, not consumes.

The fathers of stillness—those who sat in caves
and wept for the world—knew this fire.
Saint Gregory Palamas, he who beheld the uncreated radiance,
spoke not of a wrathful God far removed,
but of a God who draws near in light—
a light not metaphor, but glory,
seen by the pure in heart,
known in the silence beyond speech.

He taught that divine grace is not a created thing,
but the very energy of God poured out,
transforming the soul not from without, but from within.
This same light that shone on Tabor—
which dazzled the apostles into awe—
is the light that burns away the dross of the heart.”

So too, the pulsa denura, this dread correction,
is but the outer rind of that same light.
Its fire is fierce, for it must undo the hardness of our hearts,
but it comes from the same flame that illumined Moses’ face
and clothed the saints in brilliance.

Hesychia—the sacred stillness—is not flight from the world,
but its transfiguration.
It is in the silence of the soul that the lash of fire
becomes the kiss of mercy.

It would be enough to remember that every Jewish morning prayer begins with the words of the prophet Balaam, who was hired to curse Israel. His donkey, by throwing him down at the right moment, brought about his unexpected conversion, and he instead pronounced words of blessing:
“How beautiful are your tents, O Jacob; your dwellings, O Israel.”