This particular section, Bereshit Rabbah 12, explores the lasting impact of creation.

Rabbi Yitzḥak and Rabbi Shimon ben Lakish—two prominent voices of their time—offer us contrasting, yet equally beautiful, images. Rabbi Yitzḥak starts with an analogy we can all understand: A king builds a tent. At first, it’s taut and magnificent. But give it time, and the fabric inevitably sags. It’s just the nature of things. But, Rabbi Yitzḥak asks, what about God’s “tent”? The heavens themselves! Can you stretch out the heavens with Him? (Job 37:18). And more importantly, do they sag? Thankfully, the verse reassures us: "Strong as a cast mirror" (Job 37:18). Imagine that—the heavens, not drooping or decaying, but shimmering, strong, and reflective like a perfectly polished mirror.

Rabbi Shimon ben Lakish takes a slightly different tack. He says, when a mortal man powerfully casts a vessel—think of a blacksmith forging something strong—it will still rust with time. But here, with God's creation, it remains "strong as a cast mirror"—always appearing pristine, as if just made. Like a mirror reflecting the perfection of creation itself.

It's a powerful image, isn't it?

Then, Rabbi Azarya steps in, commenting on Rabbi Shimon ben Lakish's words and linking them to another seemingly unrelated set of verses: "Because on it He rested from all His labor [that God created to make]. These are the outgrowths of the heavens and the earth when they were created" (Genesis 2:3–4). Why juxtapose these verses?

Rabbi Azarya explains it beautifully: it's about the constant cycle of time. One day ends, and another begins. A week ends, and another begins. A month, a year… they all flow into one another. This juxtaposition reminds us that after God completed Creation, the world didn't just wind down. It continued to function with regularity, retaining the state of creation as it was when it was completed.

In other words, creation wasn't a one-time event that faded away. It's an ongoing process, a continuous renewal. The world is constantly being re-created, moment by moment.

What does this mean for us? Perhaps it means that we, too, can participate in this ongoing act of creation. That each day is a new opportunity to shape the world around us, to reflect the divine image, and to contribute to the enduring beauty and strength of creation. The Zohar, the foundational book of Jewish mysticism, touches upon this idea of constant renewal, too, reminding us that the divine spark is present in every moment.

So, the next time you look up at the sky, remember Rabbi Yitzḥak's shimmering mirror and Rabbi Shimon ben Lakish's strong, untarnished vessel. Remember that you are witnessing not just the result of creation, but its continuous, ongoing miracle.