Why? Because it wasn’t just the day that saw the separation of the waters above from the waters below – a division in what had previously been perfect unity. It was also, according to Legends of the Jews, the day hell was created.
Think about that for a moment. God, in the midst of creating the world, also brought into existence a place of punishment and suffering. Is it any wonder that, unlike the other days of creation, God didn’t say of the second day, "He saw that it was good"? (Genesis 1:10) A division, even a necessary one, isn't inherently "good," and certainly not hell.
And this hell, or Gehenna, as it's sometimes called, isn’t just one big fiery pit. Oh no, it's far more complex than that. We're talking about a multi-layered, multi-faceted abyss.
The text describes it as having seven divisions, one beneath the other. Each with its own name, each with its own unique torment, perhaps? These divisions are known as Sheol, Abaddon, Beer Shahat (the pit of destruction), Tit ha-Yawen (the miry clay), Sha'are Mawet (the gates of death), Sha'are Zalmawet (the gates of the shadow of death), and finally, Gehenna itself. Quite a list, isn't it?
But how vast are these divisions? Imagine this: According to Legends of the Jews, traversing the height, width, or depth of just ONE of these divisions would take three hundred years. Three. Hundred. Years.
So, if you wanted to travel through all seven divisions, across a tract of land equal in extent to them, you’d be looking at a journey of six thousand three hundred years. A truly unimaginable scale of suffering and despair.
What does this tell us? Perhaps it’s a reminder that creation isn’t always neat and tidy. That even in the process of bringing forth life and beauty, there's the potential for darkness and destruction. Or maybe it's a metaphorical warning about the consequences of our actions, a stark reminder that choices have repercussions.
Whatever the interpretation, the legend of hell's creation on the second day adds a layer of complexity to the creation story, a shadow alongside the light. It forces us to confront the uncomfortable truth that even in the most sacred of narratives, there's always room for…the other side. Something to ponder, isn’t it?