That feeling, that’s something the ancient rabbis wrestled with too.
Our story begins with a seemingly simple verse from Genesis 2:4: “These are the toledot (outgrowths, generations, or even histories) of the heavens and the earth when they were created, on the day that the Lord God made the earth and the heavens.” But the rabbis, never content with the surface, saw a portal to deeper understanding.
Bereshit Rabbah, a classic Midrashic collection, uses this verse as a springboard. It immediately connects it to Job 26:14: "Behold, these are but the edges of His ways..." Rav Huna, a sage of the 3rd and 4th centuries, takes this line and says, "All the things that you see are just the edges of the ways of the Holy One, blessed be He."
Think about that for a moment. Everything we perceive – the beauty of a sunset, the complexity of the human body, the vastness of space – is merely the "edge" of God's ways. It’s like hearing a faint echo of a magnificent symphony.
Rav Huna goes on, using the analogy of thunder. "Thunder, when it emerges in its full force, no creature can understand it." We might think we grasp the science behind it, but can we truly comprehend its raw, untamed power? He asks, rhetorically, if we can't understand thunder, how can we possibly understand the workings of the entire world?
And what if someone did claim to understand it all? Rav Huna has an answer for that too. If someone boasts they understand the workings of the world, tell them, “If you are unable to understand even a flesh-and-blood king, are you able to understand the King of kings, the Holy One, blessed be He?” It’s a powerful reminder of the limits of human comprehension when faced with the divine.
Rav Naḥman offers two compelling analogies. The first is a thicket of reeds, so dense that anyone who enters gets lost. Until, that is, one clever person continuously cuts a path, allowing everyone else to follow. The second is a great palace with many entrances, where people would become disoriented. A clever person uses a spool of string to mark their path, allowing others to navigate the palace with ease. What does this say about wisdom? Perhaps, that wisdom creates access for others to experience the fullness of life.
Rabbi Shimon ben Yoḥai brings a different perspective. He compares the creation to a palace built by a king. People might critique the palace – "If the pillars were taller, it would be nicer!" – but would anyone ever say, "If I had three eyes, it would be better for me?" The point? God created us, and the world, with intention and purpose.
The Midrash then delves into the verse "after they have already done" from Ecclesiastes 2:12. Why "they"? The answer given is that the King of kings, the Holy One, blessed be He, and His court, as it were, conferred over each and every limb of yours, and established it at its proper configuration." It's a beautiful image of divine collaboration in the creation of humanity. As Deuteronomy 32:6 says, “Is He not your father, your redeemer? He made you, and He established you.”
Rabbi Levi bar Ḥaita offers a striking image: a human king wouldn't place a drainpipe at the entrance of his palace. Yet God placed our "drainpipe" (our nose!) right at the front of our face, and it is becoming, even a glory.
Rabbi Yitzḥak bar Maryon picks up on this idea of divine pride. He asks why Genesis repeats the phrase "Whom He had formed." The answer: The Holy One, blessed be He, was taking pride in His world, as it were, saying: ‘See the creation that I created and the form that I formed.’
And finally, Rabbi Yitzḥak bar Maryon returns to our opening verse. “These are the outgrowths of the heavens and of the earth when they were created” – their Creator praises them, who can disparage them? Their Creator lauds them, who will find fault with them? Rather, they are beautiful and praiseworthy."
So, what do we take away from all this? Maybe it's a sense of humility, recognizing the vastness of what we don't know. Maybe it's a sense of wonder, appreciating the beauty and complexity of creation, even in its smallest details. Or maybe it's a sense of gratitude, recognizing the care and intention that went into creating us, just as we are. Perhaps all of those things are true, and maybe those are the edges of the ways of the Holy One, blessed be He.