I know, it sounds crazy. But Jewish tradition often holds a mirror up to our assumptions, challenging us to see things from a different angle. Take Gehenna, for example. That’s often translated as "Hell" – a place of punishment, fire, and, well, not a good time. But is that all it is?

Rabbi Ze’eira, in Bereshit Rabbah, that incredible collection of rabbinic interpretations on the Book of Genesis, throws us for a loop. He comments on the verse "Behold, it was very good," which, of course, refers to creation. And what does Rabbi Ze’eira say? “'Behold it was very good' – this is the Garden of Eden; 'and behold it was very good' – this is Gehenna.”

Wait a minute. Gehenna is "very good"? Is that even possible?

The text anticipates our confusion, acknowledging the rhetorical question. It’s like the rabbis are saying, "Yeah, we know this sounds weird. Stick with us."

So, how do we make sense of this? The Midrash – that style of interpreting scripture through storytelling – offers a beautiful analogy. It speaks of a king who owned a magnificent orchard. He hired laborers to tend to it, and right at the entrance, he built a storage house, a treasury. The king declared, “Anyone who performs successfully in the labor of the orchard, he may enter its treasury; anyone who does not perform successfully in the labor of the orchard, he may not enter its treasury.” The orchard represents our lives, our opportunities to do good, to create, to make a difference. The treasury? That’s the Garden of Eden, the ultimate reward, the feeling of fulfillment and connection to the Divine.

But what about those who don't work in the orchard? What about those who don't "amass mitzvot," those good deeds and commandments that enrich not only our own lives but also the lives of others? Well, that's where Gehenna comes in. As the Midrash tells us: “Anyone who amasses mitzvot and good deeds, here is the Garden of Eden. Anyone who does not amass mitzvot and good deeds, here is Gehenna.”

So, Gehenna isn't just a place of punishment. It's a consequence. It’s what happens when we neglect the orchard, when we fail to cultivate goodness in our lives and in the world.

But here’s the really part: the Midrash suggests that Gehenna, in this sense, is also “very good.” Why? Because it serves as a powerful incentive. It spurs us to act virtuously. It reminds us that our choices matter. It’s a cosmic nudge, urging us to tend to our orchard, to contribute, to make the world a better place.

It’s a pretty radical idea, isn’t it? That even the threat of something unpleasant can be a force for good. It challenges us to see beyond the surface, to recognize that even in the darkness, there can be a spark of light, a reason to strive, to grow, and to choose the path of righteousness.

What if we embraced the idea that even the difficult things in life – the challenges, the setbacks, the potential consequences – could ultimately serve as motivators for positive change? What kind of world could we create then?