Conservation of Kedusha

In Torah, nothing holy is lost — only transferred with purpose

Scientific Layer

The modern concept of conservation begins with the work of Antoine Lavoisier in the late 18th century. His principle, published in 1789, states: “In a chemical reaction, the total mass of the products is equal to the total mass of the reactants”. This law of conservation of mass laid the foundation for modern chemistry. Lavoisier proved that even when matter appears to vanish — in combustion, for instance — it only changes form. Nothing is lost.

This idea expanded in the 19th and 20th centuries into broader physical domains. The first law of thermodynamics generalized the principle to include energy: energy cannot be created or destroyed, only transformed from one form to another. Eventually, Einstein’s famous equation, E=mc², revealed that mass is a concentrated form of energy — not just equivalent, but convertible. This discovery did not only bridge two physical quantities, but suggested that even “solid” substance is dynamic potential, awaiting transformation through correct interaction.

Conservation was no longer confined to static mass or discrete particles — it applied to all transformations of the physical world.

Yet beneath this scientific framework lies a deeper metaphysical pattern, one that Torah reveals not through measurement, but through embodiment: the law of spiritual conservation — a principle by which soul-energy, once generated, cannot vanish, only relocate, redistribute, or reform according to the vessels that receive it.


Soul Dynamics

It is said that the Maggid of Mezeritch, as he neared the end of his life, was too weak to stand or teach. At that time, his student, Rabbi Avraham HaMalach, was traveling. Upon reaching a certain location, he felt compelled to sit and concentrate deeply, entering a prolonged state of meditative devekut. He remained immobile for hours.

Later that day, the Maggid stood and taught publicly as if his strength had been restored. When asked how this was possible, he answered: “The strength came to me from far away, from a high place. My student channeled it to me”.

But the Maggid also revealed something deeper: that this strength came not only from Rabbi Avraham, but indirectly from the intense weekday labor of men who had no fear of G-d. Their physical efforts, unanchored by bitachon, were spiritually dislodged — and when Shabbat arrived, that energy, no longer theirs, transferred to the righteous. As he explained, “The strength came from those who labored with no trust in G-d. On Shabbat, it is redirected to those with bitachon”.

This is not metaphor. Rabbi Avraham’s spiritual state produced a transference — not of words or ideas, but of energetic substance. Like a magnetic pole realigned across distance, his inner state created a conduit. The conservation of strength here was not physiological but soul-physical: power that had no vessel in one place was drawn into a vessel elsewhere, according to the law of tikkun.

This phenomenon echoes the principle of sod ha-ibbur — the mystery of soul-impregnation — in which a spiritual aspect of a tzaddik enters another person to accomplish necessary rectifications. Normally, this uplifts the recipient. But in the Maggid’s case, the mechanism operated in reverse: surplus force from secular sources was drawn upward, not downward — absorbed by a vessel of kedusha rather than one of confusion. The direction was inverted, but the conservation remained.

This is mirrored in the case of Chanah and Eli. As she prayed in silence, pouring out her soul, the prophet Eli at first misread her state. But eventually, her internal surge of kavanah produced a prophetic confirmation: “Go in peace, and the G-d of Israel will grant your request”. Her inner outpouring did not vanish — it activated a response, channeling divine force into the birth of Shmuel, a soul of enduring national consequence.

In Lavoisier’s model, the same total quantity of substance remains — though fire may burn the form. In Torah, the same koach (force) remains — though circumstances shift the location and purpose of its receptivity.


Prophetic Architecture

This framework appears throughout Torah in covert form. When Moshe Rabbeinu becomes overwhelmed, Hashem tells him to gather seventy elders, and states: “I will take from the spirit that is upon you and place it upon them” (Bamidbar 11:17). The ruach is not divided or diminished. It is conserved, redistributed, allocated based on structural need.

The same occurs with Elisha inheriting the spirit of Eliyahu — a doubling, not a division. And again, when souls of tzaddikim are reincorporated into other souls, as in the dynamic of ibbur, the inner energy is never lost. In fact, ibbur is predicated precisely on the transfer of active spiritual force into a compatible vessel — not as memory or inspiration, but as ongoing operative influence. The soul enters not to decorate, but to direct, fulfilling what cannot be achieved by the host alone.

Energy in the Torah sense is holy force. It can move between bodies, between generations, even between epochs. But it does not vanish. When a person enters bitul and removes self-ownership of their power, that energy is reallocated by Heaven into the hands — or hearts — of those aligned with divine mission.

In this, we find a higher symmetry with the physical law: conservation without loss, transference without erasure, transformation without contradiction.


Epilogue

The story of Rabbi Avraham and the Maggid becomes a living midrash on Lavoisier’s principle. While science traced the permanence of mass, and later of energy, Torah reveals the permanence of holy intention and inner light.

Nothing holy is lost. If a person devotes themselves fully to Hashem but cannot act — due to illness, limitation, or circumstance — that devotion is not wasted. It becomes available in the inner system of kedusha. It can appear, unexpectedly, in the actions of another — a tzaddik, a student, a stranger — who steps forward at the right time with inexplicable clarity, strength, or insight. That moment is not luck. It is conservation.

This is the Torah’s hidden law of flow: space-bending cognition is not paranormal, but normal for the kadosh “holy person”. The energy of holiness circulates through aligned vessels, never ceasing, never lost — only reassigned by divine intelligence to the vessel most able to elevate it, complete it, and fulfill its tikkun.


Rabbi Avraham Chachamovits
Version 1.0 • Sivan 5785 / June 2025
© 2025 Avraham Chachamovits. Licensed under CC BY 4.0

📚 Source

This page is based on content from: Chachamovits, A. (2022). Avraham BaMidbar – Kabbalistic Writings, pp. 583-584.
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