The ancient rabbis certainly did, and they wove some incredible tales to help us understand it. Let’s dive into one, found in Midrash Tehillim, a collection of rabbinic interpretations on the Book of Psalms.
This particular passage, Midrash Tehillim 93, paints a vivid picture of primordial waters, chaos, and divine restraint. Imagine the beginning: "The rivers of God lifted up," the text tells us. But what does that even mean?
Rabbi Berechiah, citing Ben Azai, takes it to an awe-inspiring level. These weren't just ordinary rivers overflowing their banks. No, these waters rose so high they reached all the way up to the very Throne of Glory! Think about that image for a moment: the raw, untamed power of creation threatening to engulf even the divine. This echoes Genesis 1:2, "And the spirit of God was hovering over the face of the waters," and Deuteronomy 32:11, "As an eagle awakens its nest, hovering over its young." It's a powerful image of God's presence amidst the chaos, like a protective force.
According to the Midrash, as the "bee emerges from the mouth of the Almighty" (a fascinating image connected to Genesis 9:10), the waters began to gather. Mountains and hills erupted from the earth, carving out valleys. The waters surged into these valleys, and God named these gatherings "Seas," as Genesis 1:10 tells us.
But the waters didn't stop there. They swelled, threatening to engulf everything. This is where divine intervention becomes crucial. The Midrash says God rebuked the waters, pressing them beneath His feet, establishing a boundary, "as a man makes a fence around his vineyard." This is a powerful metaphor for order emerging from chaos, of God setting limits to what would otherwise be an all-consuming flood.
And what of the depths, the tehomot, below the earth? Before the waters gathered, these deep places were created. They're described as being beneath the earth, with the earth itself cracked, "gazing into the heart of the sea." It's a poetic image, the earth anchored upon the waters, as Psalm 104:5 says, "Who laid the foundations of the earth, that it should not be removed forever."
So, where did all this water go? That's the million-dollar question, isn’t it? Rabbi Berechiah, quoting Rabbi Yudan and Rabbi Yehudah, son of Rabbi Shalom, offers a compelling analogy: imagine two bowls, one full and one empty. But what if both were full? They would overflow! The Holy One, blessed be He, restrained the waters, causing them to dry up, as Job 12:15 states, "He holds back the waters, and they dry up; also, he sends them out, and they overturn the earth."
The text continues, referencing Job 9:8 ("He walks on the high places of the sea"), Micah 1:3 ("He treads upon the high places of the sea"), and Psalm 33:7 ("He gathers the waters of the sea together as a heap"), all emphasizing God's power and control over these primal forces.
Rabbi Levi offers a fascinating detail: the waters whisper to each other, "Where are we going?" And they answer, "The way of the sea, the way of the sea, to make war with that country, to make war with that country." It's a chilling reminder that even restrained, these forces still possess the potential for destruction.
Rabbi Huna even imagined a tongue of fire on each side, containing the waters. And Rabbi Joshua ben Karcha adds that the voice of God roared before them, as Psalm 29:3 says, "The voice of the Lord is upon the waters. The rivers raise their voice." This isn’t just a quiet act of creation; it’s a powerful, dramatic assertion of divine will.
What are we left with after this whirlwind tour of creation? Maybe it's a deeper appreciation for the delicate balance of our world. Maybe it’s a sense of awe at the power, and the responsibility, that comes with creation. Or perhaps it’s a reminder that even in the face of chaos, there is a force for order, for restraint, and for hope. Think about it.