We often grapple with the existence of suffering in a world supposedly created by a benevolent God. Jewish tradition certainly doesn’t shy away from this question. In fact, there's a fascinating passage in Bereshit Rabbah, a collection of rabbinic interpretations on the Book of Genesis, that tackles it head-on. Specifically, it takes on the seemingly contradictory idea that even death, the ultimate bummer, can be considered "very good."
The passage centers on the verse in Genesis 1:31, "And God saw all that He had made, and behold, it was very good." Rabbi Shmuel bar Yitzḥak offers a surprising interpretation: "'Behold it was very good' – this is the angel of life; 'and behold it was very good' – this is the angel of death.” Wait, what? The angel of death is “very good”?
The text anticipates our shock. "Is the angel of death, then, 'very good'?" It's a rhetorical question, of course. The rabbis weren’t suggesting that death is sunshine and roses. So how do we reconcile this?
Rabbi Shmuel bar Yitzḥak offers a powerful analogy. Imagine a king who throws a lavish feast. He invites guests and presents them with a dish overflowing with delicacies. The king declares, “Anyone who eats and blesses the king, let him eat and enjoy himself. But anyone who eats and does not bless the king, his head shall be severed with a sword.” The feast represents life, and the king, of course, represents God. Those who "bless the king" are those who live a life of mitzvot (commandments) and good deeds. For them, there is the “angel of life.” But those who partake in the feast of life without acknowledging the source, without striving to live ethically and morally? For them, there is the “angel of death.”
The midrash, or interpretation, drives home a critical point: The angel of death isn't intrinsically "good" in the sense of being pleasant or desirable. Instead, death serves as a consequence, a natural outcome, for a life lived without purpose, without connection to something larger than oneself. According to this passage, death underscores the importance of living a life of meaning.
As we find in Midrash Rabbah, this concept of reward and punishment is woven deeply into the fabric of Jewish thought. The idea isn't simply that God is a cosmic scorekeeper, but that our actions have real consequences that shape our experience, both in this world and beyond.
This isn't about fear-mongering. It’s not about saying, "Be good or else!" It's about recognizing that life is a gift, a feast, and that we have a responsibility to use it wisely. To "bless the king," so to speak, by living a life of purpose, kindness, and ethical action.
So, the next time you grapple with the question of suffering, remember Rabbi Shmuel bar Yitzḥak's interpretation. The angel of death might seem like a contradiction to a world that's "very good," but perhaps it is a reminder – a stark, uncomfortable reminder – that our choices matter. That how we live, how we treat others, and how we connect to something greater than ourselves ultimately determines the quality of our experience, both in life and, perhaps, in what comes after.