It’s not just about the rain, or the oceans. It's about something much deeper – a relationship, even a conversation, between God and the very elements of the universe.
We find a fascinating take on this in Bereshit Rabbah, an ancient collection of rabbinic interpretations of the book of Genesis. When God says, "Let the water...be gathered [yikavu]" (Genesis 1:9), Rabbi Berekhya, quoting Rav Beivai, suggests this means setting a precise measure for the water, like a plumb line [kav] used in building. Remember that image from Zechariah 1:16, "A plumb line will be extended over Jerusalem"? It's about order, precision, and divine planning.
But Rabbi Abba bar Kahana, drawing on Rabbi Levi, offers a different, equally compelling interpretation. He says yikavu means "let the water eagerly wait [yekavu] for Me," anticipating God's future plans. This isn't just about containment; it’s about the water being ready, poised for a purpose it doesn't yet understand. .. the whole ocean waiting.
The Midrash (a method of interpreting biblical texts) then launches into a parable, a story to illuminate the concept. Imagine a king who builds a palace and populates it with mutes. They can’t speak, but they greet him with gestures – waving fingers and kerchiefs. The king thinks, "If they, who are mute, greet me so enthusiastically, imagine how much more those who can speak would praise me!"
So, he brings in speaking residents. But instead of praise, they seize the palace, declaring it their own! The king, disappointed, says, "Let the palace be restored to its previous state."
This is what it was like, according to this Midrash, with the waters. Initially, praise arose from the waters themselves, as it says in Psalms 93:4, "It is from the sound of many waters…The Lord is mighty on High." The Holy One, blessed be He, thought, "If these waters, without the power of speech, laud me, how much more will humankind when they are created!"
But then came the generations of Enosh, the Flood, and the Dispersion – all instances of rebellion against God. Humanity, instead of praising, claimed ownership, much like the ungrateful residents of the king's palace. The Holy One, blessed be He, then said, "Let these [mankind] be expelled and let these [waters] come back."
The text quotes God saying, "I will obliterate man whom I have created." As if needing any help! The Midrash emphasizes that God doesn't need armies; the world was created with speech, and with speech, it can be unmade. As Rabbi Berekhya points out, humans were created from soil, and what washes away soil? Water.
So, what’s the takeaway here? It’s a potent reminder about the responsibility that comes with speech, with consciousness, with being human. The waters, in their silent anticipation, teach us a lesson about humility and reverence. They remind us that creation isn't ours to seize, but a gift to be cherished and a source of praise. Are we living up to the potential God saw in us, or are we, like those ungrateful residents, seizing the palace for ourselves?