CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO

TAV

(tahv)

SOUND: t

NUMERICAL VALUE: 400

Meanings

Tav, as the final letter of the Aleph Beit, signifies endings and consummation. Like the English phrase “from A to Z,” the saying “from Aleph to Tav” expresses completeness. The word , Tav, means a mark, seal, impression, or stamp. Tav seals the Hebrew alphabet, leaving its mark of fulfillment.

There is no ending without a new beginning, however. According to Rabbi Michael Munk, “Kabbalistic literature teaches that the Aleph Beit — representing all divine forces — does not culminate with the Tav but turns around to unite again with the Aleph.”1

Similarly, Sefer Yetzirah, the Book of Creation, says, “Their end is embedded in their beginning and their beginning in their end.”2 Even as it represents termination, Tav suggests there is more to come. In fact, in Aramaic, the ancient cousin language to Hebrew, the word Tav means “more,” “again,” “further.” Beyond what appears to be an end, there is always something more. The left foot of Tav protrudes out, moving forward (since Hebrew reads from right to left) into the future.

Tav initiates tamid, the word for “always” or “forever.” The Aleph Beit begins with Aleph and ends with Tav, but the creative vibrations of the letters continue on forever, always fresh and new.

Some of the words in which Aleph and Tav unite are especially profound and important. For example, , emet, “truth,” is created when Aleph, the first letter of the Aleph Beit, unites with Mem, a middle letter, and Tav, the last. Truth, the essential fact of things, pervades the universe, “from Aleph to Tav.”

Many of the basic forms of Jewish observance begin with Tav such as tefillah, “prayer”; tehillim, “psalms”; and teshuvah, “returning” or “repentance.” The last letter of the Aleph Beit is the first letter of the names of the basic texts of Judaism, , Torah; , Talmud; and , Tanach, the twenty-four books of the Old Testament.

Tav initiates one of the most crucial terms in Kabbalistic practice, , tikkun. Tikkun means “to repair” or “to redeem.” Rabbi Isaac Luria taught that the ultimate task of each person is to contribute to the mending of a shattered universe, unifying sparks of holiness through perceiving the inherent sacredness of all things. If this is our ultimate task, how appropriate then that the Aleph Beit culminates with this sign of tikkun, the letter Tav.

Application

When Tav, the “mark,” leaves its mark on us, a cycle has come to an end. Tav puts the seal on a process of completion. It’s over.

Such times can be bittersweet, like graduations or retirements. Or terribly sad, like divorces or deaths. Or fulfilling, like the completion of a large and satisfying project. They can be joyful, as the end of one cycle marks the beginning of a new one, as in weddings and births. But, one way or another, for better or worse, Tav signifies culmination.

As the letter of emet, truth, Tav calls us to confront the truth of the situation, to face the facts. Tav marks a natural time for reflection on the process that has just ended. Some of the questions this letter raises are:

             “What have I learned from this experience?”

             “What blessings did I receive?”

             “What blessings did I give?”

             “Where do I go from here?”

We have seen that Tav initiates tefillah, prayer. Prayers often arise during periods of ending, transition, and reflection — prayers of grief, prayers of gratitude, prayers for guidance and direction. Tav may signify a time of teshuvah, returning or repentance, as we return to an awareness of the sacred or to ourselves, or repent for mistakes made.

Endings and new beginnings provide excellent opportunities to commit ourselves anew to tikkun, repair or rectification. Ever since Rabbi Isaac Luria emphasized the concept more than four hundred years ago, tikkun has assumed a vital importance in Jewish mystical practice. Rabbi Luria taught that we uplift and redeem the fallen sparks of holiness that are hidden in “husks” within every thing, by means of our prayers, our deepened awareness, and our acts of loving-kindness.

I believe that for those of us living in the decades after the holocaust of World War II, our impulse for tikkun is an attempt to somehow redeem the millions of souls who perished in the concentration camps and were murdered in the trenches.

Tav urges us to strive for tikkun in our own lives and in our own ways. How might we do that? Contemporary Rabbi David Cooper writes, “Our opportunities to raise sparks are boundless. The choices we make for our activities, the interactions we have with our family, friends, neighbors, business associates, and even strangers, the way we spend our leisure time, the books we read, the television we watch, the way we relate to food, everything in daily life presents sparks locked in husks awaiting release.”3

As we release these sparks, we actually help prepare the way for the complete redemption of the world through the manifestation of Mashiach consciousness. “The appearance of the Messiah is nothing but the consummation of the continuous process of restoration, of tikkun,” writes scholar Gershom Scholem. “The tikkun, the path to the end of all things, is also the path to the beginning.”4

Tav, this letter of ending and beginning, of tikkun and Torah, of prayers and teshuvah, makes a big impression, indeed. It calls us to leave our own marks in the world, through our prayers, our awareness, and our acts of loving-kindness.

Tav’s Shadow

Sometimes we end a situation or relationship prematurely in order to avoid the risks of deeper intimacy or involvement. Has the situation had a chance to reach its resolution, its natural culmination, or are we forcing a too-early end out of our own fears or doubts? It can be hard to know at times. (On the other hand, sometimes, because of fears or doubts, we remain in situations or relationships beyond a healthy end point, refusing to let go.)

Tav marks a resolution, a completion, a consummation. This can take many forms beyond an obvious “ending.” We must be careful not to interpret Tav too literally or simplistically. After all, it’s as much a letter of new beginnings as it is a letter of endings.

A danger in the concept of tikkun is the assumption that the world is inherently flawed, and that it’s up to us somehow to rectify the problem. This is especially pernicious when we apply it literally to another person. While opportunities for “repair” are obvious all around us, in another sense, the world is complete just as it is. Excessive focus on the shattered nature of things can drag us down and burn us out. Waiting for the Messiah to appear can cause us to disparage this present life. Tav’s challenging task is to engage in tikkun with joy, even as tears of sorrow flow as we confront the brokenness of the world.

Personal Comments

Even as it ends the Aleph Beit, Tav keeps moving on down the line, its left foot stepping out into the future. Tav reminds me of a song by the famous blues musicians Sonny Terry and Brownie McGhee: “Walk on, walk on, walk on, walk on. I’m gonna keep on walkin’ til I find my way back home.” Sturdy, intrepid Tav walks on. Just as we do when one situation ends, and we move forward into the next incarnation of our lives.

 

Summary for Tav

Numerical value:

400

Meanings:

Mark, seal, impression. Torah. Tefillah, prayer. Talmud. Tikkun, repair and redemption.

Application:

Acknowledge and reflect on the completion of a process or cycle.

 

Offer prayers of grief or gratitude, or for guidance.

 

Commit oneself to striving for tikkun.

Shadow:

Ending situations or relationships prematurely.

 

Conversely, clinging to situations or relationships beyond a healthy end point.

 

Focusing excessively on the “broken” aspects of life.

Reflection:

What have I learned from a significant experience which recently came to a close?

What blessings did I receive?

What blessings did I give?

Where do I go from here?

Suggested action:

Complete a tangible act of tikkun today. What can you uplift, repair, put right, or redeem?