The sun is beginning to dip, painting the sky in hues of orange and gold. It's the seventh hour of the day, according to Pirkei DeRabbi Eliezer 19, and Adam, the first human, is entering the Garden of Eden.
Can you picture it? The ministering angels are ecstatic! They're praising him, dancing before him, escorting him into paradise. It’s a moment of pure, unadulterated joy. But the joy is tragically short-lived. As twilight descends, marking the eve of Shabbat, Adam is driven out. He’s banished.
The angels, who were just moments before celebrating his arrival, are now weeping. They cry out, quoting Psalm 49:12, "Man in glory tarrieth not overnight, when he is like the beasts that pass away."
But here's a fascinating detail. The text doesn't say “like a beast that passes away,” but "like the beasts that pass away." The tradition understands this to mean that Adam and Eve were both facing the same fate.
So what saves him? What intervenes? It’s Shabbat itself.
The Pirkei DeRabbi Eliezer tells us that the Sabbath day arrives and pleads before God on Adam's behalf. "Sovereign of all worlds!" it cries, "No murderer has been slain in the world during the six days of creation, and wilt Thou commence with me? Is this its sanctity, and is this its blessing?"
Think about the power of that argument. The Sabbath is arguing for its own sanctity, its own purpose. "And God blessed the seventh day, and hallowed it," Genesis tells us (2:3). Is death the way we are to celebrate this? Is that the blessing?
And it works! By the merit of the Sabbath day, Adam is saved from the judgment of Gehinnom – often translated as hell or purgatory.
When Adam realizes the power of the Sabbath, he understands that God's blessing and sanctification of this day were not in vain. He begins to observe the Sabbath, and even utters a psalm for the Sabbath day: "A psalm, a song for the Sabbath day" (Psalm 92:1).
Now, Rabbi Simeon adds a layer to this. He says that Adam himself composed this psalm. And it was then forgotten throughout the generations. It wasn't until Moses came along that it was renewed, attributed to him, "A psalm, a song for the Sabbath day," for the day which is entirely Sabbath and rest in the life of eternity.
What does this all mean? It's a powerful reminder of the sanctity of Shabbat and its ability to advocate for us. It's a story about second chances, about redemption, and about the profound connection between humanity and the divine rhythm of creation.
It makes you wonder, doesn't it? What power do we underestimate in the traditions we observe? What blessings are waiting to be discovered, simply by recognizing the sanctity of a moment, a day, a practice? The story of Adam and the Sabbath reminds us that even in the face of expulsion, there is always the potential for grace and renewal.