The Bamidbar Rabbah, a collection of rabbinic teachings on the Book of Numbers, dives into this very question, and what it reveals is both awe-inspiring and, well, a little unsettling.
According to it, in the very beginning, God commanded the angel of the sea to swallow all the primordial waters. Now, this angel wasn’t exactly thrilled about the task. In fact, he protested, saying he could barely handle his own immensity! He wept, apparently, and that's when things took a turn.
"He kicked him and killed him," the text says, citing Job 26:12: “With His power, He calmed the sea, and with His understanding, He crushed Rahav.” So, the angel of the sea’s name was Rahav, and things didn't end well for him.
The Bamidbar Rabbah goes on: God crushed Rahav and trampled him, and the sea received him. Then, as Amos 4:13 states, He "tramples upon the heights of the earth." To keep the waters in check, God set sand as "doors and a bar," as we find in Job 38:8. And, as Jeremiah 5:22 puts it, God set "the sand as a boundary for the sea."
But what about the mixing of fresh and saltwater?
The sea worried that its sweet waters would mingle with the salty. God reassured it: "No, each and every one has a storehouse of its own," echoing Psalms 33:7: "He places the depths in storehouses."
Think about it: we ourselves are miniature worlds. The text then shifts to a fascinating analogy: the human face. It’s just a small area, “the size of a span,” yet it contains so many different fluids, each with its own unique character. Tears are salty, earwax is fatty, nasal mucus is, well, foul, and saliva is sweet. Why?
Each serves a purpose. Salty tears prevent us from blinding ourselves with endless grief. Fatty earwax protects us from being overwhelmed by harsh news. Foul nasal mucus stops us from being poisoned by bad smells. And sweet saliva, as well as aiding in digestion, connects us to the sweetness of Torah, "sweeter than honey" (Psalms 19:11).
If such differentiation exists in something as small as a face, how much more so in the vast sea, teeming with life, as Psalms 104:25 reminds us: "There is the sea, vast and broad; an innumerable swarm is in it."
It’s all interconnected.
The Bamidbar Rabbah emphasizes that God accomplishes His mission in all sorts of ways, sometimes through the most unexpected creatures. Rabbi Hanin of Tzipori tells stories of scorpions, snakes, even a stray bone, all carrying out God’s will, often in ways we can’t possibly foresee. One story tells of a scorpion needing to cross the Jordan River on a mission. God appointed a frog to carry it across!
These stories remind us that even the smallest, seemingly insignificant things can play a crucial role in the grand scheme of things.
And what about those who exalt themselves? The text gives the example of Titus, the Roman emperor who desecrated the Temple. He was ultimately defeated by a tiny gnat that entered his nose. The gnat, a “lowly creature” because it ingests but does not egest, brought down a powerful ruler.
The passage concludes with a powerful image: In the future, God will exact retribution from the nations through slight entities, as Isaiah 7:18 says: “It will be on that day that the Lord will whistle for the fly that is at the edge of the rivers of Egypt and for the bee that is in the land of Assyria.”
So, what do we take away from all this? Perhaps it's a reminder that the world, from the vast oceans to the smallest creatures, is interconnected and purposeful. Everything, in its own way, is part of a divine plan, even when we can't see it or understand it. And perhaps, too, a dose of humility. Even the mightiest among us are ultimately subject to the will of something far greater, and sometimes, the smallest things can have the biggest impact.