We drink it, we swim in it, we depend on it. But what if that life-giving force turned on us? What if it rose up and swallowed everything whole?
That's the kind of question the ancient Rabbis wrestled with when they looked at the story of creation. In Bereshit Rabbah, the classic midrash on Genesis, they ask a fascinating question: If God commanded the waters to gather in one place at the beginning of time, then why do we see references to God "calling the water of the sea" not just once, but twice, in the Book of Amos (Amos 5:8, 9:6)? What's the deal with the double call?
Rabbi Elazar offers a striking answer: One call was for the generation of the Flood, and the other for the generation of Enosh.
Now, hold on. The generation of the Flood, we get. That’s Noah, the ark, the whole cataclysmic shebang. But the generation of Enosh? Who were they, and what did they do to warrant divine intervention of this scale?
Well, the Rabbis saw these events – the Flood and whatever happened in Enosh’s time – as moments where the natural order, the very fabric of creation, was threatened. It all goes back to that initial decree, "Let the water… be gathered." If God commanded the waters to stay put, how could they possibly return and cover the earth? It seems like a direct contradiction.
The answer, according to this midrash, lies in the concept of divine yirah – awe, reverence, fear of God. As Ecclesiastes (3:14) says, “God acted so they would be in fear of Him.”
Think of it like this: Imagine a province rebelling against its king. What does the king do? He sends in a powerful legion to surround the province, a visible reminder of his authority and power. The message is clear: "Don't forget who's in charge."
That’s what the gathered waters are, according to this interpretation. The Psalmist (Psalm 33:7-8) says, "He heaps together the water of the sea… [so] the entire earth would be in fear of the Lord." The waters were gathered into one place not just for practical reasons, but as a constant, visible reminder of God’s power, a perpetual call to yirah.
The image is powerful, isn't it? The vast ocean, held in check by divine command, a constant reminder that things could, at any moment, revert to chaos. It's not just about the physical threat of a flood; it's about the spiritual reality of our dependence on God.
So, the next time you stand by the ocean, remember this midrash. Remember the generation of Enosh, the Flood, and the constant tension between order and chaos. Remember that the seemingly simple act of God gathering the waters holds a profound lesson about power, responsibility, and the enduring need for yirah. Maybe, just maybe, that’s what keeps the waters at bay.