The scene opens with a seemingly simple verse from Deuteronomy, “For who is a great nation that has God near it, as is the Lord our God in all of our calling to Him.” (Deuteronomy 4:7) It's a beautiful statement about the unique closeness between God and the Jewish people. But then, some "heretics," as the text calls them, approach Rabbi Simlai with a provocative question: "How many authorities created the world?"
Talk about jumping right into the deep end!
Rabbi Simlai, ever the clever sage, doesn't shy away. Instead, he invites them to examine the six days of Creation together. "Let you and me inquire into the six days of Creation," he proposes. And that's where the fun begins.
The heretics immediately point out a perceived inconsistency. "Isn't it written, 'In the beginning Elohim created'?" they ask. Elohim, you see, is the plural form of the word for God. Why not Elo'ah, the singular? Surely this implies multiple creators!
But Rabbi Simlai is ready. "Is baru written?" he counters, referring to a plural form of "created." "No! Bara – singular – is written." It's a subtle yet powerful distinction. He continues, pointing out that when God speaks, it says "vayomer" – singular – not the plural "vayomeru."
They continue through the Creation story, finding what they believe are more inconsistencies until they get to the sixth day, and the verse, "Let us make man in our image" (Genesis 1:26). Here, they seem to have him cornered. "Us? Our image?" they exclaim, clearly feeling triumphant.
But Rabbi Simlai doesn't flinch. "It is not written here, 'They created man in their images,' but rather, 'God created man in His image' (Genesis 1:27)." Again, he emphasizes the singular action, the ultimate unity of the divine act.
Finally, they throw out the verse that started it all: "For who is a great nation that has God near [kerovim – plural] it?" (Deuteronomy 4:7). It seems like a slam dunk, right?
But Rabbi Simlai has one last, brilliant parry. "But is it written: 'As is the Lord our God in all of our calling to them?' It is written, '[As is the Lord our God] in all of our calling to Him.'"
The focus is always drawn back to the singular.
What's so powerful about this exchange isn't just the cleverness of Rabbi Simlai's arguments. It's the underlying message: that even when the language seems ambiguous, even when we grapple with complex theological questions, the core principle of monotheism remains. It requires careful interpretation, a deep engagement with the text, and a willingness to look beyond the surface.
This story reminds us that faith isn't about blind acceptance, but about wrestling with questions, engaging in dialogue, and ultimately, finding our own understanding of the divine. It's a journey, not a destination. And sometimes, the journey leads us back to the very foundations of our beliefs, stronger and more nuanced than before.