Think about it. We find this incredible scene in the Book of Job (38:1, 38:4-7): God speaks from a whirlwind, a tempest, and essentially asks Job, "Where were you when I laid the earth's foundations?"
It's not just a question; it's a challenge. "Were you there," God asks, "when I set its dimensions? Did you measure it with a line? Do you even know onto what its bases were sunk? Who set its cornerstone when the morning stars sang together, and all the divine beings shouted for joy?"
It's a mic drop moment, isn't it?
God’s words here aren’t just a history lesson. They’re a reminder of scale, of the sheer incomprehensibility of creation. God isn't obligated to explain Himself. We, as finite beings, can't possibly grasp the infinite.
But let's linger on the imagery for a moment. We’re talking about foundations being laid, dimensions being marked off – as Schwartz points out in Tree of Souls, it's like building a house. A cosmic house! God is depicted as an architect, a builder, meticulously planning and executing the creation of the world.
And then there's the cornerstone. The cornerstone is the most important stone in any structure. It's the reference point for the entire build. Imagine the weight, the significance, of that cornerstone being laid for the entire Earth!
But it's the reaction to this cosmic construction project that truly takes your breath away. The morning stars sang. The divine beings, the b'nei elohim (בְּנֵי אֱלֹהִים), shouted for joy. It wasn't just a silent, sterile act of creation. It was a symphony of celebration.
So, what does this all mean for us? Maybe it's a reminder that some questions are simply too big for us to answer. Maybe it's an invitation to stand in awe of the universe and the One who brought it all into being. Maybe it's both.
Perhaps the point isn't to understand how it was done, but to appreciate the sheer wonder that it was done at all. And maybe, just maybe, to join in the song of the morning stars, even if we can only hum along.