Book Review: Adin Steinsaltz's "The Thirteen Petalled Rose"

Rabbi Adin Steinsaltz is one of the most influential thinkers in Judaism today, and “The Thirteen Petalled Rose” is one of his most widely read books. As the author himself notes in the preface, “The Thirteen Petalled Rose” is not a book about kabbalah, but rather a book of kabbalah. It is a positive statement of kabbalah itself, not an academic study of what kabbalists have believed. Thus, it reads like a manifesto, or perhaps more accurately, a traditional kabbalist text. And indeed the book is rather conservative in its views. Steinsaltz’s presentation of kabbalah is firmly rooted in kabbalist tradition, and the influence of kabbalist texts and authors such as the Zohar and Isaac Luria can be detected on nearly every page. At any rate, the history of kabbalah has been marked by extensive disagreement and innovation (though many orthodox and ultra-orthodox Jews may wish to deny or at least qualify this fact), and I would not object to novelty in a modern work of kabbalah.

There are some problems with the book. For example, Steinsaltz does not discuss the history of kabbalah, and he very rarely cites any sources. Moreover, Steinsaltz often states his views without providing any evidence on their behalf (in most cases such evidence would derive at least in part from the Bible, rabbinic texts, and kabbalist texts, which again he rarely cites). Complicating matters further, he often presents his views in a tendentious manner: when explaining a kabbalist concept or theory that has been analyzed in different ways by the great kabbalists of the past, Steinsaltz typically explains the concept or theory in a single way without even mentioning the history of opposing views on the subject. In an academic work, the lack of citations and the tendentious presentation of views would be very serious defects. However, given the fact that Steinsaltz’s book is written from the perspective of a practitioner and not that of a neutral scholar, these faults can be largely forgiven. After all, many of the greatest historical works of kabbalah are equally tendentious, if not more so, and many of Steinsaltz’s distinctively kabbalist ideas can be traced fairly easily.

Unfortunately, Steinsaltz’s explanation of kabbalist concepts and theories is often quite vague, and he neglects to provide clear explanations of several key kabbalist concepts, such as kabbalist theurgy. Steinsaltz discusses kabbalist theurgy, but only in very general terms, and I doubt that many readers who are new to kabbalah will come away with an adequate understanding of it. Moreover, Steinsaltz seems to deny the reality of kabbalist theurgy at several points in the last chapter of the book, though he strongly affirms it in earlier chapters. For example, compare pages 29-35 and 68-70 with pages 173 and 191-92. Thus, there may be issues of consistency as well as clarity. (Incidentally, I detect a potentially anti-theurgic statement even in the early chapters. On pages 34-35, Steinsaltz writes that “prayer, repentance, the cry of man to God, even though they are dependent upon and cut across a limited, deterministic system, neither work upon nor even address that system,” where the referent of “that system” seems to be the sefirot. Oddly, these remarks form the conclusion of an extended passage in which Steinsaltz affirms and describes the theurgical effects of human activity.)

So, there are some real problems with the book, but there is also much of value to be found in it. Paradoxically, one of the greatest virtues of the book is that it contains numerous analyses of mitzvot (i.e., commandments) in terms of the sefirot. (See, e.g., the chapter on the Kiddush ritual.) Such analyses constitute perhaps the most fundamental feature of the most historically significant kabbalist tradition, i.e., the so-called “theosophical-theurgical” tradition represented by the Bahir, the Zohar, and other such works. Despite the importance of such analyses to this tradition, many books on kabbalah fail to provide examples of them, preferring instead to discuss the principles underlying such analyses only in general terms. However, many books on kabbalah do an admirable job of explaining the theurgical significance of such analyses, which Steinsaltz fails to do. It is for this reason that I used the term “paradoxically” above: many books on kabbalah explain the theurgical significance of sefirotic analyses of mitzvot without providing examples of such analyses, while Steinsaltz provides good examples of such analyses without offering details about the precise theurgical effects (i.e., the impact on the sefirot and their alignment) that the performance of the respective mitzvot is supposed to achieve. Another great virtue of Steinsaltz’s book is that it contains one of the clearest descriptions of the individual sefirot that I have encountered in a modern book, though the descriptions of netzach and hod, and so that of yesod (which results from the interaction of netzach and hod), are still somewhat vague.

So far, I have largely focused on Steinsaltz’s treatment of distinctively kabbalist concepts and theories such as the sefirot and theurgy. However, Steinsaltz’s book also contains a number of chapters that are dedicated to traditional Jewish concepts such as the human soul, holiness, Torah, repentance, mitzvot, and prayer. Many of the ideas in these chapters will be familiar to religious Jews who haven’t studied kabbalah, though kabbalist ideas are often lurking in the background – and sometimes are standing in the foreground – even here. I must say, these chapters are full of wisdom, and I have learned a great deal about holiness, Torah, repentance, prayer, man, and God from Steinsaltz. I have read through “The Thirteen Petalled Rose” three times now, and there are several pages that I have often returned to during the past few months. I feel that I owe Steinsaltz a great debt, and I am grateful to have found his book.

In closing, let me say that the quality of the English translation (the book was originally written in Hebrew) is generally quite smooth, and some passages have a beautiful poetic quality. Moreover, the book is characterized by a strong intelligence and an abiding faith in God. I am usually cautious about inferring much about the personality of an author even from books on spirituality, but I find it difficult not to admire Steinsaltz. At any rate, I believe that both Jews and non-Jews can learn a great deal of value from this book. I should know – I am not a Jew, and I have benefitted tremendously from it.