We read the first chapter of Genesis and it feels so…orderly. But there are other stories, wilder tales, that offer a glimpse into creation’s messy, mysterious birth. Let's journey into one of them.
Before anything we can see existed, there were only invisible things. Imagine that: a universe teeming with potential, unseen. Then God, in His infinite wisdom, decided to make the invisible visible. And so, God spoke: "Let one of the invisible things descend and become visible."
And Adoil descended.
Who was Adoil? Well, this astonishing creation myth comes from 2 Enoch, a text dating back to around the second century BCE to the first century CE. It paints a picture radically different from Genesis. Adoil wasn't an angel, not a god, just a primordial being, an invisible force entirely under God's command. He was enormous, and within him, he held a great light.
God commanded Adoil: "Disintegrate yourself, Adoil, and let what is born from you become visible." Think about that for a moment. Disintegration as an act of creation. It echoes the Kabbalistic concept of Shevirat haKelim, the shattering of the vessels, a concept we find in the teachings of the Ari, Rabbi Isaac Luria (1534-1572). It's like both stories suggest that breaking apart is necessary before something new can be formed.
And Adoil disintegrated.
From him emerged a very great light. And God was in the midst of the light. Another light came forth out of that light, revealing all of creation that God had thought to create. And God saw that it was good. God placed a throne for Himself and sat down. Then God spoke to the light, saying, "You rise up and become the foundation for the highest things. For there is nothing higher than light, except for nothingness itself."
But what about darkness?
God summoned the very lowest beings a second time, commanding, "Let one of the invisible beings descend and become visible."
And Arkhas came out, solid, heavy, and very red. Like Adoil, Arkhas was a primordial being, not an angel, not a god. God commanded Arkhas: "Open yourself up, Arkhas, and let what is born from you become visible."
And Arkhas disintegrated.
From him emerged a great darkness, very large, bearing the creation of all lower things. And God saw how good it was. God said to the darkness, "Descend and become the foundation of all lower things. For there is nothing lower than the darkness, except nothing itself."
So, we have light and darkness, each with its own origin, its own purpose. But God's work wasn't done.
God took some light and some darkness and mixed them together, commanding them to thicken. And when they did, He wrapped them with light and spread it out, and it became water. God spread it out above the darkness and below the light, dividing the world above from the world below. And God made a foundation of light around the waters, with seven circles inside it, with the appearance of crystal. He pointed out the route of each one of the seven stars to its own heaven.
And finally, God made a division between the light and the darkness, saying to the light that it should be day, and to the darkness that it should be night. And there was evening and there was morning, a first day (Genesis 1:5).
What a powerful image: light and darkness, not as opposing forces, but as essential ingredients, mixed together to create the very fabric of our world. The light of Adoil, the darkness of Arkhas, both born from disintegration, both necessary for creation. Food for thought, isn't it? Perhaps the things we need to "disintegrate" in our own lives are the very things that hold the potential for the greatest light.