The Poetics of Atkinu Seudata

David B. Siff
Poetry of the Kabbalah
May 12, 2005

	Atkinu Seudata is a series of three poems composed by Isaac Luria, the leader of the kabbalistic community in Sfat from 1570 to 1572.  Each of these three poems was written to correspond to one of the three Sabbath meals, and Luria instituted the custom of reciting each poem at the appropriate meal.  These poems have themselves become subject to kabbalistic interpretation, which have tried to determine the kabbalistic symbolism of the poems.  In this paper, I will discuss the kabbalistic significance of the poems themselves as poetry; that is, what is the theory of poetry (the poetics) underlying the composition and recitation of these poems, and how does that poetics relate to kabbalistic theology?
	Israel Sarug, who propagated Luria’s teachings in Italy in the 1590’s, interpreted the poems as highly technical theurgical magic.  Each word of the poem, according to Sarug, corresponds to a cosmic entity within the complex Lurianic theosophical scheme published by Vital.  Every word in a mystical poem, when uttered, causes some movement in the supernal entity to which it is attached: “poetry gives power to every spiritual entity or heavenly being to move.”  He says of this poem in particular that it causes to be fixed “all the upper worlds, and that they should enter each other, and his [Luria’s] soul should also enter them along with the sparks of the souls of Israel through the entry of its palace...”  Thus, mystical poetry has both a theurgic function and also a psychological function, giving the soul the ability to ascend into heaven.
	Sarug’s interpretation thus reads the poem in a highly technical fashion, as if it were a technical treatise which was being used as a magic book.  Each word is subject to one or more interpretations as referring to a very specific cosmic entity.  For example, Sarug interprets the phrase Hakal Tapuchin Kadishin (Orchard of Holy Apples), which ordinarily refers to the Shekhina, by breaking it up into its 3 terms and suggesting that each term refers to Shekhina in a different relation to Tiferet.  It is unclear whether this interpretation was made on the basis of Vital’s writings, or simply out of Sarug’s interpretation.  In any event, this complicated theosophical reading was not taken for granted; Jacob b. Rafael HaLevi of Prague, writing in 1651, offered a far simpler interpretation in his Minhat Ya’akov.  He interprets Hakal Tapuhin Kadishin as the Shekhina, and gives the textual basis in the Talmudic interpretation of Gen 27:27, which in fact is probably the basis for the kabbalistic usage.
	Sarug also correctly places heavy emphasis on the role of the poems in battling the demonic forces.  The poems emphasize the demonic forces, the “dogs,” which are the evil husks which are held at bay on Shabbat; the poems celebrate the absence of these forces, which apparently allows for the presence of the divine.  According to Sarug, the poems themselves serve the function of keeping these demonic forces at bay-- azamer beshvahim means not just ‘I will sing praises,’ but according to Sarug it means ‘I will cut away [the evil husks] by means of praises.’  Thus, the performance of the poem serves a magical purpose in battling the demonic realm.  Apparently, the words of the poems, by referring to supernal entities, also cause those entities to move-- they are not just signs referring to those entities, but have a real connection such that they themselves cause the process which they describe.  Speech is not just narrative, a description of reality, but a speech act, which causes the reality which it describes. 
	Yehuda Liebes has suggested that this interpretation of the poems reflects the ‘Lurianic Kabbalah’ of Vital more that the poems themselves.  The symbolism of the poems follows largely Zoharic imagery.  The three personalities which the songs invoke (Orchard of Holy Apples, the Holy Ancient One, and the Impatient) are identical, in the Zohar, to the sefirot of Shekhina, Tiferet, and Keter.  The symbolism does not refer to the complex theosophical scheme publicized by Vital, and may reflect a stage in Luria’s thought before that scheme (or may simply reflect Luria’s authentic thought, as opposed to that scheme).  In terms of its symbolism, the poem is not so different from the Zohar.  It focuses on the terms for the sefirot which in Vital’s system are the parzufim, the restored, personalized appearances of the sefirot.  The symbolism is selective in its relation to the Zohar, but does not reflect an original theosophical system.
	Gershom Scholem made the following insightful remarks about the poems:

 The master of the house “explicitly utters the mystery of the meal,’ that is, he introduces the sacred actions in words which describe its sacred meaning and at the same time conjure the Shekhina to partake of the meal with her Bridegroom (‘small-faced,’ or better ‘Impatient’) and the ‘Holy Old One’...  In the solemn drapery of their [the poems’] Zoharic Aramaic, they suggest the grandiloquent gesture of a magician, conjuring up a marvelous pageant for all to see. They read like the hymns of a mystery religion.

The poems, according to Scholem, are not just descriptions of a cosmic event; they are magical conjurations which cause that event to happen.  The choice of language creates a solemn tone, marking the recitation as a secretive religious rite.  Scholem makes a similar observation regarding the chaining of the demons in the third paragraph, which he considers to be the culmination of the poems: “it is not a mere description of an exorcism, it is an exorcism.”  The recitation of the poems is a magical rite, whose purpose is to chain the demons to allow for the presence of supernal entities.

Basis in the Zohar

	The poems are based on a passage in the Zohar which provides both the raison d’etre and much of the symbolism for the poems.  An examination of that passage will help explain the function of the poems. 

ouh ,t o"hvkt lrchu (d c oa) ch,f 'rnt ejmh hcr 'uasek ,cav ouh ,t rufz
'uc vhvh tk ,ca hghcav ouhcu uvyek, ohnh ,aa (uf zy ,una) inc ch,fu 'hghcav
itfrc kf 'tbt, hfv tkt ?vhc jf,at t,frc vn hbuzn vhc jf,an tks iuhf
'vtghca tnuhc tbn jf,at tk htnt tbt,u 'ihhk, vtghca tnuhc t,,u tkhgks
vhbuzn chvh sju sj kfu 'ihtkg ihnuh t,ha kf vhbhn itfrc,n tnuh tuvvs ouan
vtghca tnuhc itfrc,ns vfrc thvvn 'hunuhc sj kf t,,k

“Remember the Sabbath day to sanctify it.”  Rabbi Isaac said, “It is written, ‘God blessed the seventh day,’ and it is written about the manna, ‘six days you shall gather, and on the seventh day, on Shabbat, there will be none.’ If there is no sustenance, what kind of blessing is there?  We have learned that all the blessings of above and below depend on the seventh day.  We have also been taught: why was there no manna on the seventh day? Because all six supernal days are blessed by that day, and every one gives its food below, each one on its day, from that blessing which it was blessed with on the seventh day. 

This passage, which introduces the discussion in the Zohar, asserts that because Shabbat is the source of blessing for the six supernal days (i.e. the six sefirot), no (physical) manna fell on it.  Supernal Shabbat (Malkhut) is the source of blessing for the other sefirot, which then bless the other physical days.  Thus, Shabbat is the source of blessings for the upper and lower worlds. 

t,sugx tbe,tku 'tru,p trsxk hgc 't,ubnhvns tdrsc uvhts itn lf hbhdcu
inszt tbnz tuvvc tvs 'ihnuh t,ha iubht kf vhru,p lrc,hs ihdc 't,cas thkhkc
lf kgu 'thbehr tru,pc jf,at tk t,frcu 't,cas ihnuh t,ha kf tfrc,tk vfrc
/hbuzncu hnvbc t,cas thkhkc vhru,p trsxk hgc

Therefore one who is on the level of faith should set the table, to prepare the meal of Sabbath Evening, so that his table will be blessed on the six days.  For at that time, a blessing is prepared to bless all six days of the week, and there is no blessing on an empty table.  Thus, one needs to set his table on Sabbath evening with bread and food.

The assertion of this passage that one who is faithful will make a meal on Shabbat is reflected in the first line of Luria’s poem, in the phrase ‘meal of complete faith;’ the phrase l’atkana seudata (to prepare a meal) is reflected in Luria’s phrase atkinu seudata (‘I will prepare a meal’).  The purpose of this meal is so that the table will be blessed through the other days.  The passage says that a blessing is not found on an empty table is reflected in Luria’s description of the table with a menorah and bread; Luria’s description, by giving the geographical location of these items, seems both to reflect the Temple layout and the kabbalistic interpretation of that layout.

'tnuh htvc tdbg,tk hgc 'rnt vsuvh hcr /hnb t,cas tnuhc ukhpt 'rnt ejmh hcr 
tct hcr /tnkgc tnuh htvc tdubgu tgca jf,ahs ihdc 't,cac h,sugx ,k, kfhnku
thkn tnuh htvu 'tnuh htvn itfrc,ns 'tkhgks ihnuh iubhtc t,frc tbnsztk 'rnt
tkejk khytu 'tkfs tnh,x tahse teh,gn ,hjbs tkyn 'ihpbt rhgzs vhahr
/tsjf uvkf iufrc,hs ihdc 't,ca khhg sfn hbnz ,k, 'ihahse ihjup,s

Rabbi Isaac said, “Even on Sabbath day too.”  Rabbi Yehuda said, “One needs to rejoice on that day, and to eat three meals on Shabbat, so that there will be satiety and rejoicing on that day in the world.  Rabbi Abba said, “In order to bring blessing to these supernal days, which are blessed from this day.  On this day, the Impatient One’s head becomes filled from dew that rests on it from the most hidden Holy Ancient One, and he gives it to the .   

Rabbi Abba’s statement links these three meals to the three parzufim.  The three meals correspond to the flow of blessing (dew) from the ‘Ancient Holy One,’ to the head of the ‘Impatient One’, and from there to the ‘Orchard of Holy Apples.’  This correlates to a flow through the middle sefirot: from Keter to Tiferet, and then to Shekhina. This flow of blessings to the Shekhina causes the other ‘days’ (both the physical days and the sefirot, the supernal ‘days’) to be blessed. The flow of blessings is thus necessary both for the physical and supernal worlds: one can cause damage to those worlds by not having all three meals.
	Apparently, each meal embodies one of these three parzufim.  By having each meal in one Shabbat, all three parzufim are present in that Shabbat, and can thus unify in such a way that causes blessings to flow.  The three meals, together, bring the three parzufim together in one temporal ‘space.’ The ‘space’ here is temporal--three meals on the same day are in fact unified by virtue of taking place on/in the same day..
	The emphasis on ‘rejoicing’ may be part of what lies behind Luria’s practice.  Vital’s ‘Sha’ar HaKavvanot’ say that Luria would say this specifically in a pleasant voice.  The poem itself may be a means of rejoicing, and thus helping to cause this flow of divine abundance. 
	A bit farther, the Zohar cites a minhag of Rabbi Abba, who actually announced the meal in terms similar to those used by Luria:

thv ts rnt vuvu 'sju sj kfc hsj huv 't,cas t,sugxc ch,h vuv sf 'tct hcr
thv ts rnt vuv trjt t,sugxc 'tkfs tnh,x tahse teh,gs tahse t,sugx
‘g  jp] vuv sfu sju sj kfc hsj vuvu 'h,sugx uvkfc ifu 'tuv lhrc tasues t,sugx
/t,ubnhvns h,sugx unhkat rnt vuv 'h,sugx ohkat  [c

When Rabbi Abba sat down for the Sabbath meal, he rejoiced at each one.  He would say, “This is the holy meal of the Holy Ancient One, Hidden from all.”  At another meal he would say “This is the meal of the Holy One Blessed be He.”  So too for every meal.  And he would rejoice at each one.  And when he completed the meals, he would say “The meals of faith have been completed.”
Rabbi Abba’s declaration seems to have been not merely descriptive, but performative: in saying that ‘this is the holy meal of the Holy Ancient One, most Hidden of all,’ he was not just informing those listening, but also causing the Holy Ancient One to be present at that meal.  Rabbi Abba’s pronouncement after the third meal (also included in Luria’s poem), implies that since all three meals were conducted and hence all three parzufim were conjured, the unification is complete.  Rabbi Shimon’s pronouncement at the beginning of the meals provided Luria with the opening of his poems:

'vtkg t,ubnhvns t,sugx ubhe,t 'hfv rnt vuv t,sugxk h,t vuv sf iugna hcr 
/hsju ch,h vuvu 'tfkns t,sugx ubhe,t
When Rabbi Simon came to the meal, he would say this: “I will spread the meal of supernal holiness, I will spread the meal of the King,” and he would sit and rejoice. 
After proceeding to identify the three meals in order with Hakal Tapuhin Kadishin, Atika Kadisha, and  Zeir Anpin, the Zohar identifies the Jews who are present for this supernatural rite as members of the Supernal Palace:
 
'tfkns tkfhvn iubhts 'tfkn hbc iubhts ktrah iugsun,at ihkt h,sugxc 'hzj t,
hzjtu 'tkhgk t,unhdp hzjt 'uvhhbn t,sugx sj ohdps itnu 't,ubnhvn hbc iubhts
tgrzn utks 'tuv tfkns tkfhv hbcn utks 'tuv vtkg tfkn hbcn utks vhnrd
wudu obvhds tbhs ihkn ,k,s trnuj vhkg ihcvhu 'tuv ktrahs tahse
Come and see: at these meals, the Jews are informed that they are children of the King, faithful children.  Whoever blemishes one of these meals, shows a blemish above, and shows himself not to be one of the Supernal King’s children, for he is not a member of the King’s palace, and not from the holy seed of Israel.  And they place on him three severities: the judgment of hell, etc.
To summarize this passage: the three meals each represent one of the three sefirot which form the middle pillar, from the highest part of God (Atika Kadisha) to the lowest (Hakal Tapuhin Kadishin).  By performing the mitzvah of eating (more precisely, setting) three meals, Jews cause these three sefirot to be present in the same temporal space-- that is, the same Shabbat day-- and cause a flow of blessing between them, which gives nourishment to the other sefirot.  The Jews are members of the divine palace as long as they perform these rites, which have inherent theurgic significance.  Part of the ritual, which is part of the halakhic mitzvah, is to rejoice at these meals; this emotional practice may have theurgic power.  
	In addition to these halakhic rituals, the Zohar cites a custom of announcing each meal, as well as the completion of the three meals.  It is unclear whether these proclamations are merely meant to inform the human audience of the significance of the meals, or whether they themselves are conjurations of supernal entities, part of the rituals of a mystery rite. 
	It seems likely that Luria’s custom is based on this proclamation, and on the notion of rejoicing.  The poems themselves are a form of rejoicing, by praising the table, the presence of the supernatural, and the absence of the demons.  It is perhaps for this reason that Luria said these poems in a ‘pleasant voice.’  The rejoicing described in the Zohar also may have influenced Luria’s description of the rejoicing which follows the union of the divine couple.  The table, full of physical blessings and full of rejoicing, magically summons the presence of the supernal.  

Language in the Zohar

	Luria’s poem also, I will argue, draws on the Zohar’s theory of language as substantive.  In the Zohar, words can become physical.  The divine language is the cause of physical existence--one could even say it is the common substance (in an Aristotelian sense) underlying all of creation.  This attitude is based in Sefer Yetzira, which uses images of rock-cutting in reference to the letters of divine speech.  Letters themselves are the basis of physical reality: the division between language and physical being is fluid, much as the distinction in contemporary science between energy and matter.
	According to the Zohar, human language can also become physical reality.  The Zohar describes what God does with the words of Torah spoken by those who study it and say new interpretations:
tekx vkn thvv 'ab rcs vhnupn ,asj,t t,hhruts vkns t,ga thvvc ib,
ihryg ihgcac vk rygu 'vk ehabu vkn thvvk khyb v"ceu 'v"ces vhne ,s,g,tu
'ihnkg hj ehsms tahr kg tc,hu tekx 'tasj,ts t,nfjs vknu 'ieejnu ihphkd
ihnuh eh,gs ihkn kfu 'ihnuh eh,g hcdk ,ehkxu 'ihnkg ;kt ihgcac tyau in,n txyu
,asj,ts t,nfjs tnh,x vkn thvvu /ihtkg ihnh,x ihzrc 'iubht t,nfjs ihkn
,ktgu 'uvhhsvc t,jbu tekxu 'ihnuh eh,gs ihkn iubhtc ,rcj,t 'tekx sf 'tfv
iytau 'in,n hepb 'l,kuz ohvkt v,tr tk ihgs (d sx uvhah) 'ihzhbd ihnkg rxhbn,c
thvvc ihnuh eh,g jrt t,ga thvvc 'ihnuh eh,g hne us,g,tu 'ihnkau ithkn ihh,tu
'ihryg ;kt ihgcau vtn ,k,c vk rygtu 'vkn thvvk khyb 'tkfn vhne tjhbu 'vkn
t,nfjs vknu vkn kf ifu 'tsj tgher tshcg,tu 't,jbu tekxu ,xy vkn thvvu
ohasujn ohna 'ohasj ohna iuk hre tuvu 'ihnuh eh,g hne ohka tnuhec ihnhhe
/vtkg t,nfjs ihzrs ihnh,x

It was taught: at the moment when a word of Torah  is innovated in a person’s mouth, that words goes and stands before God.  God takes that word, kisses it, and crowns it with seventy engraved and inscribed crowns.  But the word of wisdom [i.e. kabbalah] which is innovated goes and sits on the head of the Righteous Life of the Universe [i.e. Yesod], and flies and soars through seventy thousand worlds, and ascends to the Ancient of Days [i.e. Keter].  All the words of the Ancient of Days are words of wisdom, in hidden supernal secrets.  And that word of hidden wisdom which was thus innovated, when it ascends, joins these words of the Ancient of Days, and ascends and descends with them, and enters eighteen hidden worlds which “no eye has seen but Your own.”  They leave there, and travel, and arrive full and complete, and stand before the Ancient of Days.  At that moment, the Ancient of Days smells that word, and it pleases him more than all.  He takes that word, and crowns it with 370,000 crowns.  That word flies, ascends and descends, and becomes a new firmament.  Thus, every word of wisdom existing in full existence before the Ancient of Days.  He calls them new heavens, created heavens, hidden mysteries of supernal wisdom...

The Zohar describes words of kabbalah as materially existent-- they stand in a full existence (kiuma shalem), and become a new heaven.  The Zohar blurs the boundary between language and physicality.  Words are physically real entities, created by God and humans, which have a life of their own after they are uttered.  Thus, every human utterance is potentially creative in a very real sense.  Poetry can be seen, according to this theory, as a conscientiously created object-- an object of craftsmanship, woven together out of words to create something beautiful.    
	This seems to be the passage that Luria is referring to when he says, in his song for the Holy Ancient One, “these words will be a new firmament and a heaven.”  As Liebes points out, both the song and this passage from the Zohar are referring to the Holy Ancient One (Keter).  This line from the poem seems to be self-referential: the poem itself, which is composed of supernal secrets, will ascend and become a new heaven.  Thus, the poem is not merely about a divine parzuf (personality), but is also an offering to that  divine parzuf.  Poetry forms a physical object which is given by the kabbalist to the divine; the formal aspects of rhyme and meter, parallelism, everything which formally constitutes a poem, are thus part of the craftsmanship of this sacred donation.
	
The blurring of Text and Reality in Atkinu Seudata

	The first of the three poems identifies both the table settings and the words recited there as part of accompanying the Bride, i.e. the Shekhina.  Line 26 says, “Come near, shoshvinin, make restorations by multiplying food, fish, and fowl.”  Shoshvinin are people who accompany a bride and groom to cause them to be happy, implicitly spurring them toward intercourse.  Thus, the plenitude symbolizes the plenitude of blessing which will result from divine intercourse. Line 54 describes her as “crowned in crowns, in honorable words, in seventy crowns...”  This is a reference to the kiddush, which according to the Zohar has seventy words.  Just as the table adornments have a role in the repair of the Shekhina, the words themselves have substantive reality and serve as a crown for her head.  Crowns are part of the traditional ritual adornment for a bride, and may be intended to sexually entice the groom.  The poem later says that “we will say secrets, and hidden things... to crown the Bride in supernal secrets, in this assembly of holy angels.”  The kabbalistic mysteries spoken at the table also take physical form, and become an adornment for the bride.
	The poem itself can be seen as both a textualization of reality, and as a realisation of text.  By describing the table set with food, the poem puts a physical situation into words, creating a text out of physical reality.  But the poem also describes what happens to kabbalistic words, based on the Zohar: they become adornments for the Shekhina. Thus, the text itself becomes a substantive reality, which ascends to the divine realm.  The poem has turned physical reality into language, which itself becomes spiritual reality.  The poem focuses on this process in connection with the Shekhina, whom this meal is for; the other poems focus on how text interacts, respectively, with Keter and with Tiferet.
	Why does the bride need to be adorned?  It would seem that the adornments assist with the unification among the sefirot.  By creating beautiful adornments, the kabbalist makes her appealing to her groom.  Language is not theurgic in the directly magical sense suggested by Sarug-- it does not manipulate heavenly entities-- but itself becomes spiritual.  It does not relate to the spiritual in a symbolic way (each word affecting the entity to which it refers) but in a mythical way, interacting directly with supernal entities.  It can do this because of the fluid boundary between, or identity of, language and reality.
	The second song, similarly, describe the words becoming entities which are given to the Ancient One, who is the object of the meal:

	Before the master of the worlds, 
	in hidden words, 
	reveal sayings, 
	and say innovations, 
	to crown the table
	with a precious secret...
	And these words
	will be a new firmament
	and heaven.	

The reference to a ‘new firmament’ seems to be from Zohar I 4b, discussed above.  The paradoxical nature of the words-- hidden and revealed-- parallels the status of the Ancient One, who is discussed but concealed.	 This song again describes the kabbalistic mysteries at the table as becoming spiritual entities, but now they are given to the Ancient One.  
	It is not entirely clear, here, whether these words are merely a contribution to the Ancient One (perhaps out of respect for the awesomeness of the occasion), or whether they serve a magical function.  It seems that the poet may be taking the opportunity, given the presence of the Ancient One, to offer Him a gift which will become a new heaven.  Alternatively, perhaps the substance of the poem is what enables it to have the theurgic power to conjure the parzufim.  It does seem reasonable to assume, based on the logic, that the poem itself (which reveals kabbalistic mysteries) plays a similar role to the other kabbalistic words spoken at the table.  The poem both describes the event, and substantively participates in that event.  
	The third poem, addressed to the Impatient One (Tiferet), has one particularly difficult linguistic reference:

	Let them be here
	at this table
	in which is the King
	in engravings 

As Liebes points out, the table symbolizes the Shekhina, and Tiferet is present in her openings (a sexual reference).  Gilufin (engravings) is used in the opening line of the Zohar’s commentary on Genesis to describe creation.  Inasmuch as creation occurs through divine language, ‘engraving’ should be understood as an act of writing, which itself is sexually gendered as a masculine act.  Thus, the engravings on the table are the writing of the masculine (King) on the feminine surface (the Bride), and indicate the union of the two.  This, too, embodies the fluidity of text and reality: physically present engravings on the table embody the sexual union of Tiferet and Shekhina, which occurs through the medium of language.  Language is the mediator between us and the divine, and within the divine. 

Language and Being

	In Eros, Language, Being, Elliot Wolfson identifies the kabbalistic play of concealing and revealing with the same play discussed by Heidegger.  For Heidegger, the paradoxicality of revealing and concealing of Being has to do with the linguistic nature of Being.  The fact that language reveals Being implies that Being is concealed.  This Heideggerian analysis of Being provides the ontological basis for the same relationship of language, Being, and concealment in the kabbalah.  Being is linguistic both for the Heideggerians and the Kabbalists.
	Wolfson points out that in this Heideggerian scheme, language is not mimetic, but rather constitutive of reality:
we speak of language disclosing the nature of beings, not, however, in the form of a mimetic theory of truth and the presumed correlation between substance and reason... the accordance of declamation and matter, but as a constitutive factor in shaping reality as it appears, the real appearance of the apparently real.

Although different historical factors may lie behind the two systems of thought, in both Heidegger and kabbalah, language is constitutive of Being.  For Gadamer (a student of Heidegger), the reason is clearly that our perception is schematized by language, and it is not based on a metaphysical claim about the nature of language, as is the kabbalistic scheme.  Although Wolfson glosses over this distinction, it is an important one: for Heidegger, Being is assimilated into language and takes on its characteristics, while for kabbalah, language takes on the characteristics of Being.
	Although Wolfson explains this identity of language and Being on an ontological basis, the relation in the Zohar and in Luria seems more fluid.  Every word of wisdom ascends to heaven-- so it does seem to be the case that every word has substance and apostatic existence.  However, not every word becomes a crown for the Bride, or a new heaven.  It does seem that one can say things which take on more or less substance, which have more or less creative power.  The relation between language and Being should be seen as a fluid one, rather than identification:  God takes the words and fashions them into a new heaven.  The gift of perpetual existence seems to be reserved for words of kabbalistic wisdom, not necessarily all words.
	In Luria’s poems, we would be justified in speaking both of the textualisation of reality, and of the realization of text.  The poem itself, describing the spread-out Shabbat table, the presence of the divine parzufim, and the absence and chaining of the demons, is a textualisation of the physical reality of the Sabbath meal.  In addition, the words of the kiddush become an adornment for the Bride, and the kabbalistic innovations spoken at the table become a new heaven: the words become a substantive reality.  
	It is true that the metaphysical basis for an identification of language and Being is present in the Kabbalistic tradition.  Sefer Yezira, which describes the creation of the physical world through letters and numbers, seems to draw on the Jewish tradition of creation by speech, and views the letters of divine speech as the ontological underpinnings of physical reality.  This would support a thorough identification of language and Being, as Wolfson proposes.  However, the description in both the Zohar and in the poems depict a fluidity between language and Being, rather than an identification of the two.

The uniqueness of Atkinu Seudata

	We are justified, in line with Liebes, in rejecting Sarug’s densely theosophical interpretation of Atkinu Seudata.  The images, many phrases, and the theory behind the poem itself are taken from the Zohar.  What is unique is that the Zoharic interpretation of halakhic practice has itself become the basis for a new praxis of liturgical poetry.  The Zohar itself cites an innovative ritual, Rabbi Abba’s declaration that “This is the meal of...”  Luria seems to have continued that line of practical innovation, adopting the Zohar’s explanation of the three meals as a generative principle in the creation of a new quasi-halakhic practice.  Luria is unique not in his theology, but in putting the Zohar’s theology of Shabbat, and its mystical poetics, into action.

Bibliography

Auerbach, Raphael David. Shevah Imrey Hen.  Brooklyn NY: Sha’arey Ziv, 1997.
Liebes, Yehudah, “Zemirot Lese’udot Shabbat Sheyissed Ha’ari Hakadosh.”  In Molad 4 (1972), pp. 540-555.
Scholem, Gershom G. On the Kabbalah and its Symbolism.  New York: Schocken Books, 1965.
Vital, Hayyim.  Sha’ar HaKavannot.  Jerusalem: Le’or, date of publication not indicated. 
Wolfson, Elliot R. Language, Eros, Being.  New York: Fordham University Press, 2005.