The ancient Rabbis grappled with these very questions, and their answers, found within the Midrash Tehillim (a collection of homiletical interpretations on the Book of Psalms), are both surprising and deeply insightful.
It all starts with a seemingly simple verse from Psalms 136: "To the one who established the earth over the waters." This becomes a springboard for a fascinating exploration of the very foundations of our world, both physical and spiritual.
The Rabbis, in their characteristic style, begin with something concrete: prohibitions. Specifically, three drinks that were traditionally avoided due to their perceived connection to water. Wine, milk, and even…water itself! Why? The Midrash Tehillim connects each to a verse. Water, of course, goes back to "the one who established the earth over the waters.” Milk is linked to the story in Judges (4:19) – "and she opened the jar of milk." Wine, perhaps the most surprising, is tied to the verse in Jeremiah (13:13): "every drunkard shall be filled with wine." The underlying concern seems to be about respecting boundaries, about not taking for granted the gifts we receive.
But then the discussion takes a truly wondrous turn. Rabbi Yosei cries out, "Woe to the creatures who see but do not know what they see, stand but do not know on what they stand!" Isn't that a powerful sentiment? He challenges us to look deeper, to understand the interconnectedness of everything.
So, what does the world stand on? Rabbi Yosei lays out a fascinating chain of being. He starts with the pillars of the Earth, which, according to Job 9:6, tremble at God's shaking. And what do these pillars stand on? Water! Again, echoing Psalms 136. But it doesn't stop there. The water rests on the mountains (Psalms 104:6), the mountains on the wind (Amos 4:13), the wind in the storm (Psalms 148:8), and finally, the storm itself "depends on the arm of the Holy One, blessed be He," as Deuteronomy 33:27 tells us, "And under His everlasting arms." It’s a beautiful image of divine support and a reminder that everything is ultimately connected to and sustained by God.
But the Rabbis, never ones to shy away from a good debate, offer alternative perspectives. Some sages suggest the world rests on twelve pillars, linking it to the twelve tribes of Israel (Deuteronomy 32:8). Others say seven, drawing a connection to the seven pillars of wisdom in Proverbs 9:1: "Wisdom has built her house, she has hewn out her seven pillars."
Then comes Rabbi Elazar ben Shamua, who offers the most radical idea: the world stands on a single pillar, and that pillar is Tzaddik, the righteous one. As Proverbs 10:25 states, "And the Tzaddik is the foundation of the world."
Think about that. Not just physical pillars, not just abstract concepts like wisdom, but a person. A righteous individual. It suggests that the very stability of the world depends on the ethical actions and moral character of those who inhabit it. The implication is clear: each of us has a role to play in upholding the world.
So, what does it all mean? Maybe the point isn't to choose one "correct" answer. Maybe the point is the journey itself, the ongoing exploration of what sustains us, what connects us, and what ultimately gives meaning to our existence. Are we like those creatures Rabbi Yosei lamented, seeing but not knowing? Or can we strive to see with deeper understanding, to stand with greater awareness, and to contribute, in our own way, to the foundation of a more righteous world?