Before the third day, the earth was a watery expanse. Then, God commanded, "Let the waters be gathered together," and suddenly, mountains and hills burst forth, creating basins for the water to collect. But the water, it seems, had a mind of its own! According to Legends of the Jews by Ginzberg, the water resisted God's command, threatening to overflow the newly formed earth. Only when God forced the waters back and encircled the sea with sand did they relent. Now, anytime the water gets a little too ambitious, it sees the sand and remembers its boundaries.
This watery rebellion mirrors a celestial one. The angel of the sea, Rahab, also refused God's command to take in the water, declaring, "I have enough." The consequence? Death. Rahab's body, Ginzberg continues, now rests in the depths of the sea, its foul odor constantly dispelled by the surrounding water.
But the third day wasn't just about water control and rebellious angels. It was also the day plant life exploded onto the scene – terrestrial plants and, remarkably, the plants of Paradise itself! The towering cedars of Lebanon were among the first to be created. Filled with pride, they stretched towards the heavens, considering themselves the most favored. But God, as the Midrash teaches us, hates arrogance. "I hate arrogance and pride, for I alone am exalted, and none beside," He declared, and on that very day, He created iron, the substance that would eventually bring those proud trees crashing down.
The trees, understandably, wept. "We cry because Thou hast created the iron to uproot us therewith," they lamented. "All the while we had thought ourselves the highest of the earth, and now the iron, our destroyer, has been called into existence." God, in His wisdom, offered a curious consolation: "You yourselves will furnish the axe with a handle. Without your assistance the iron will not be able to do aught against you." It’s a reminder that even our destroyers can't harm us without our unwitting participation.
A fascinating detail: God commanded trees alone to bear seed after their kind. But the grasses, ever the independent thinkers, reasoned that if God hadn't desired species distinctions, He wouldn't have instructed the trees to bear fruit after their kind. So, they too reproduced after their own kinds. This prompted the "Prince of the World" to exclaim, "Let the glory of the Lord endure forever; let the Lord rejoice in His works."
And then there's Paradise, the Gan Eden, the most significant creation of the third day. Imagine two gates of carbuncle, guarded by sixty myriads – that's 600,000 – of ministering angels, each shining with the light of the heavens. When a righteous person arrives, they're stripped of their burial clothes and dressed in seven garments of clouds of glory. They receive two crowns, one of precious stones and pearls, the other of gold of Parvaim, and eight myrtles for their hand. Angels sing praises, inviting them to "Go thy way, and eat thy bread with joy."
It gets even more idyllic. The righteous are led to a place of rivers, surrounded by eight hundred kinds of roses and myrtles. Each person has a canopy according to their merits, under which flow four rivers: milk, balsam, wine, and honey. Vines of gold hang from the canopy, adorned with thirty pearls that shine like Venus. Underneath, a table of precious stones and pearls awaits, attended by sixty angels who encourage them to partake, reminding them that they earned this joy through their devotion to Torah, sweeter than honey and more intoxicating than wine.
Even the least fair of the righteous are as beautiful as Joseph or Rabbi Johanan, radiant as silver pomegranates under the sun. There is no need for artificial light, "for the light of the righteous is the shining light." They even experience four transformations daily, reliving the joys of childhood, youth, adulthood, and old age.
Paradise teems with eighty myriads of trees in every corner, the most humble among them more exquisite than any spice tree. Angels sing with sweet voices, and in the center stands the Tree of Life, shading all of Paradise. It offers fifteen thousand different tastes and perfumes, and winds carry its fragrance to every corner of the world. Underneath, scholars gather to explain the Torah, sheltered by canopies of stars, sun, and moon, separated by curtains of glory.
Beyond Paradise lies Eden, containing three hundred and ten worlds and seven compartments for the pious, each group distinguished by their righteous deeds. This includes martyrs, those who drowned, disciples of Rabbi Johanan ben Zakkai, penitents, youths who never sinned, and the poor who lived lives of decency and Torah study. And in the midst of them all, God Himself expounds the Torah.
The sheer scale of Paradise is mind-boggling. Each of the seven divisions stretches twelve myriads of miles in width and length. The first division houses converts to Judaism, overseen by the prophet Obadiah. The second, made of silver, is for those who repented, presided over by Manasseh, the penitent son of Hezekiah. The third, built of silver and gold, is home to Abraham, Isaac, Jacob, the Israelites who left Egypt, and David. Moses and Aaron lead this division.
The fourth division, built of rubies, houses the perfect and steadfast in faith. The fifth, adorned with silver, gold, and the river Gihon, is where the Messiah resides on a palanquin made of Lebanese wood, comforted by Elijah who tells him, "Be quiet, for the end draweth nigh." Patriarchs, kings, and even Korah and his company visit him, seeking solace and answers about the coming redemption. The sixth division is for those who died performing a pious act, and the seventh for those who died from illness as atonement for the sins of Israel.
So, what does this all mean? The third day is more than just about land and plants. It's about the consequences of obedience and rebellion, the surprising origins of our tools, and the incredible, almost unimaginable reward that awaits those who live righteously. It's a reminder that even in the earliest stages of creation, the seeds of both destruction and eternal bliss were being sown. And it leaves us pondering: what seeds are we planting today?