Day follows night, the seasons turn, the land stays put, the sea stays… well, you get the idea. But what if I told you that this order, seemingly immutable, has actually been bent and shaped by extraordinary individuals throughout our history?

Devarim Rabbah, in its tenth section, opens our eyes to this very idea, drawing from Ecclesiastes 3:14: "I know that everything that God does, it will be forever; one cannot add to it…" Rabbi Yosei ben Zimra asks, what does it mean, "one cannot add to it?" He then brings forth an astounding idea.

The passage goes on to illustrate how, despite God's seemingly unchangeable creation, certain righteous figures have, in a sense, altered the very fabric of reality. But why?

Think of it like this: the Holy One, blessed be He, from the very beginning of creation, commanded, "Let the water under the heavens be gathered to one place…" (Genesis 1:9). And yet, Amos 5:8 asks, "Who summons the waters of the sea and pours them upon the face of the earth; the Lord is His name?" Why the apparent contradiction? The answer, according to the text, is "So they would be in fear of Him" (Ecclesiastes 3:14) – so that people would hold God in awe.

The text uses a powerful analogy: a province revolts against its king. What does the king do? He brings a mighty legion and surrounds the province, so that its residents will see it and be filled with fear and respect.

But it doesn't stop there. The passage then launches into a series of examples, each more astonishing than the last.

First, there's Jacob, who, according to this teaching, effectively turned day into night. How? The text references Genesis 28:11: "He encountered the place because the sun had set, and stayed the night there," implying that the sun set before its appointed time for Jacob. Then there's Joshua, who famously commanded the sun to stand still in the sky (Joshua 10:12), turning night into day.

The text continues: "The righteous deduct and add to the words of the Holy One blessed be He, so that the people will be in fear of Him." It's a radical concept!

Next, we see Moses parting the Red Sea (Exodus 14:29), turning sea into dry land, and Elisha, who, in a reversal, seemingly turned dry land into a sea, promising water in a ravine (II Kings 3:16-17). Elijah, with his drought (I Kings 17:1), turned winter into summer, while Samuel, calling down thunder and rain during the wheat harvest (I Samuel 12:17), turned summer into winter.

It’s as if these individuals, through their profound connection to the Divine, were able to momentarily reshape the world according to God's will, reminding everyone of His power and presence.

Then, the text shifts to the relationship between the heavens and the earth. "The heavens are the heavens of the Lord, while the earth He has given to the sons of man" (Psalms 115:16). But Moses, through his ascent to Mount Sinai (Exodus 19:3) and God's descent upon it (Exodus 19:20), blurred the lines between these realms, bringing the earthly into the heavenly and vice versa.

Finally, there's the fascinating idea that even the heavens and the earth, created to praise God ("The heavens declare the glory of God" – Psalms 19:2), were silenced by Moses ("Listen, the heavens"). It's a powerful image – the ultimate act of humility and reverence before the Divine.

So, what does it all mean? This passage isn't just a collection of miracle stories. It's a profound meditation on the nature of Divine power, human agency, and the delicate balance between order and change. It suggests that while God's creation is indeed eternal, our relationship with it is dynamic. We, too, have a role to play in shaping our world, not by defying God's will, but by drawing closer to it, by inspiring awe and reverence in ourselves and in others. It makes you wonder, doesn't it, what kind of impact we can have when we are truly connected to something greater than ourselves?