Battei Midrashot Reader

Our tradition tells a story about Adam, the very first human, that hits on just that feeling.

Creation is fresh, the world is brand new, and Adam is experiencing everything for the first time. Then comes the Shabbat, the Sabbath. A day of rest, a day of joy, a day of profound peace washing over all of creation. Adam, overwhelmed by the beauty of it all, bursts into song. He sings praises, a magnificent hymn dedicated entirely to the Sabbath day. This song, by the way, is none other than Psalm 92 – a psalm we still sing today!

Then… silence.

A voice booms out, filled with – dare we say – a hint of divine pique. God says to Adam, "You sang a song of praise to the Sabbath, but none to Me, the God of the Sabbath?" Ouch. As Battei Midrashot (rabbinic interpretive commentary) (1:27) recounts, Adam had inadvertently slighted the ultimate source of all goodness.

Can you feel the tension? Adam, the Sabbath, God… it's a cosmic family squabble!

But hold on, this isn't just a story about hurt feelings. It's a story about balance, about connection, and about recognizing the true source of blessing.

Here's where the Sabbath herself steps in. The Shabbat, personified, rises from her seat and prostrates herself before God. In a moment of stunning humility and grace, she says, "It is a good thing to give thanks to the Lord" (Psalm 92:2). And then, as if on cue, all of creation joins in, adding, "And to sing praises to Your Name, O God Most High" (Psalm 92:2).

According to Ginzberg's retelling in Legends of the Jews (1:85, 5:110), this act of humility averts a potential crisis. The Sabbath, in her wisdom, reminds everyone that she is not separate from God, but rather an expression of God's will and a gift from God's hand. In the words of Midrash Rabbah, the Sabbath exists to bring us closer to the Divine.

What's truly beautiful about this story is how it highlights the interconnectedness of everything. The Shabbat isn't just a day off; it's a conduit to something greater. As Tree of Souls (Schwartz, 5:101) points out, the underlying concern is that we should never separate the Sabbath from its Creator. To observe the Shabbat is, in effect, to render praise to God.

So, the next time you experience something wonderful, something that fills you with joy and peace, remember Adam's song. Remember the Shabbat’s humility. And remember to give thanks to the source of all blessings. After all, isn’t that what it means to truly appreciate the gift?

The familiar picture has God as all-powerful, creating worlds and intervening in human affairs. But did you know there's a tradition that imagines God as… a Torah scholar?

It’s true! The Battei Midrashot (rabbinic interpretive commentary) (2:367-369) paints a breathtaking vision of the future. Imagine this: the Garden of Eden, lush and vibrant, teeming with life. In the center sits God, not just as a ruler, but as a teacher, a master explainer of the sacred text.

Around God are all the righteous souls who ever lived, basking in the divine light of understanding. And at their feet? None other than the entire heavenly host! The sun, moon, and planets themselves are on God’s right, while all the stars twinkle on God’s left. Can you picture it? It's a cosmic classroom!

The question is what God teaching means. According to this tradition, God is destined to expound on a new Torah. A new understanding. What does it mean for there to be a "new" Torah? Well, the tradition suggests that in the messianic era, the Messiah will first transmit this new Torah to Israel, a Torah received directly from God. Only then will God personally teach it in heaven. It’s like a divine relay race of knowledge!

And the key takeaway? This vision underscores God’s ultimate authority on the Torah. After all, who better to explain it than the one who created it in the first place?

This idea, of God studying and teaching Torah, is actually part of a much larger pattern in Jewish thought. As Rabbi Howard Schwartz explores in "Tree of Souls," it’s about mirroring. Just as observant Jews pray, wear tallit (prayer shawl) and tefillin (phylacteries), and study Torah, so too does God. God is the Master of masters.

So, what is this "new" Torah all about? The tradition implies that it's appropriate for a world transformed, a post-messianic world unlike anything we've ever known. (You can find more on the concept of a new Torah in "A New Torah," p. 522). It’s a Torah for a reality where old limitations and understandings have fallen away.

It makes you wonder, doesn't it? What new insights, what profound wisdom, will this new Torah reveal? What will we learn when God, in that future time, sits down to teach? Perhaps it’s a reminder that learning and understanding are never truly finished, even for God. Perhaps it's an invitation to always keep our minds and hearts open to new possibilities, new interpretations, and a deeper connection to the divine.