If the universe originates in God’s Word, what, then, is the relationship between Creator and creation? Is the world simply an emanation of the Divine, a theater for God’s self-expression? Or does creation possess a distinct existence, a true “otherness” that God lovingly sustains?
Throughout history, thinkers have debated the nature of God’s relationship to the world. Atheists claim that the presence of matter negates the reality of God; if God is all, then nothing else can be. Theists counter that the very existence of matter points to the necessity of a Source, a First Principle beyond matter itself. Philosophical extremes emerge: Acosmism claims the world is an illusion, only God is real; Pantheism sees God and the universe as identical; Panentheism suggests God includes the universe within Himself, but is more than all that exists.
Well, if God is infinite and all-encompassing, how can anything else—creation, space, or human existence—have room to exist apart from Him?
TZIMTZUM: The Divine Contraction
Before creation, Jewish mystics teach, God’s infinite light (OR EIN SOF) filled all existence.
However, God’s glory, radiance, or “light” is so powerful and pure that, like the sun, it is fatal for a mortal human to encounter it directly (Exodus 33:20).
Here the ancient Jewish mystical doctrine of TZIMTZUM offers a breathtaking vision. TZIMTZUM, literally “contraction” or “withdrawal,” teaches that in order to create, God “contracts” or conceals His infinite presence, making “space” for the world. God’s act of self-limitation is not an act of absence, but of sacrificial love. By withdrawing, God makes room for creation—for otherness, for relationship, for the drama of freedom.
Believers often get preoccupied with technical debates over the days of creation—was it a literal six days, or something else? In the process, they risk missing the bigger picture: the deeper spiritual truths and purpose that the creation story is meant to reveal.
The Bible doesn’t open with a physics textbook or a scientific manual, as some imagine. It begins with something far deeper—it begins with God’s sacrificial love.
To allow for the emergence of the universe, God withdrew His light, leaving an “empty space”—not a physical vacuum, but a metaphysical possibility, a theater for a new creation to form:
Now the earth was formless and empty, darkness was over the surface of the deep…
(Genesis 1:2)
Yet this does not mean God was absent from creation. On the contrary, God’s presence is the hidden foundation of all things. TZIMTZUM is the ultimate act of humility—choosing not to claim everything for yourself, but making space for another. It is self-limitation for the sake of love, a divine example that becomes the blueprint for all genuine love and relationship. True love always involves holding back, giving room, and allowing the other to flourish. The world exists not because God was diminished, but because God chose to limit the expression of His infinite power so that something else—someone else—could flourish.
After TZIMTZUM, God’s light does not disappear; it reenters the “empty space” in a regulated, measured way (e.g., the sun, moon, and stars). The Jewish mystics describe this flow through the SEFIROT—channels or attributes through which God’s energy and wisdom enter creation without overwhelming it. Too much light, like a surge of electricity, would obliterate all distinction. The SEFIROT modulate this flow, preserving both the unity of God and the multiplicity of creation.
In practical terms: just as the human body can only receive a certain amount of energy, so creation is sustained by a carefully regulated divine presence. God remains near, yet His nearness is hidden—so that freedom and love are possible.
Jesus as TZIMTZUM: The Gospel Fulfilled
Here, Christian faith finds a profound parallel. The heart of the Gospel is the self-emptying (KENOSIS) of Jesus: “He emptied Himself” (Philippians 2:7), taking on the limitations of humanity, suffering, and even death. This is TZIMTZUM in its most tangible, radical form. You sacrifice for the sake of others. God contracts not to vanish, but to become radically present. The humility that Judaism attributes to TZIMTZUM is precisely what Christians see in Jesus: God’s self-giving love embodied!
Thus, the Messiah is not only the receiver of divinity but the living act of divine contraction, the One who brings the infinite into the realm of the finite for the sake of love. Self-limitation is not a sign of weakness, but of the highest strength—the willingness to make space for others.
Jewish tradition already understands sacrificial love, the willingness to limit oneself for the sake of the beloved. What many Jews do not yet see is that this pattern points to the Messiah—Jesus—who gave Himself in TZIMTZUM, the contraction of divinity into humanity. Pray that the eyes of Israel may open to see the fullness of this mystery, the unity of law and love, justice and mercy, infinity and presence. May they come to recognize and love their own Messiah Yeshua.
This was an expert from my upcoming book, Kingdom Secrets: Mystical Beliefs in Light of Christ’s Wisdom:
