Jewish tradition teaches us that Shabbat, the Sabbath, isn't just for us down here. Rabbi Jehudah in Pirkei DeRabbi Eliezer tells us that the Holy One, blessed be He, kept Shabbat first in the heavenly realms. And who was the first to keep Shabbat here on Earth? Adam. This first Shabbat, the text says, protected him from all evil and comforted him amidst all the doubts that plagued his heart. Sounds familiar, doesn't it? We all have those moments of doubt, that internal wrestling. As it says in Psalm 94:19, "In the multitude of my doubts within me, thy comforts delight my soul." Shabbat, it seems, is that comfort manifested in time.

But let's rewind a bit, back to the Garden of Eden. Remember the story of the forbidden fruit? After Adam and Eve ate from the Tree of Knowledge, they realized they were naked. What did they do? "And they sewed fig leaves together, and made themselves aprons" (Genesis 3:7). Rabbi Joshua ben Ḳorchah points out that they took leaves from the very tree under which they were hiding. The source of their shame, the place of their transgression, becomes the immediate source of their covering.

But the story doesn't end there. The Pirkei DeRabbi Eliezer continues with a fascinating, and somewhat startling, idea from Rabbi Eliezer. He suggests that God didn't just leave Adam and Eve with those makeshift fig-leaf aprons. Instead, he says, God took the skin that the serpent had sloughed off – shed, like a snake leaving behind its old self – and fashioned "coats of glory" for them. As it says in Genesis 3:21, "And the Lord God made for Adam and for his wife coats of skin, and clothed them."

Coats of skin from a serpent? It's a pretty wild image, isn't it? Where did this idea come from? Well, the Hebrew word for "skin" here, or, can also mean "light." This has led some commentators to suggest that these weren't literal coats of animal skin, but garments of light, a return to the original glory that Adam and Eve lost.

But Rabbi Eliezer’s interpretation, while unusual, offers a powerful message, too. Even in the face of sin and shame, God provides. Even from the remnants of the serpent, a symbol of temptation and evil, God can create something beautiful, something protective. It’s a radical act of transformation, taking something tainted and turning it into something holy.

So, what does it all mean for us? Perhaps it’s a reminder that even when we mess up, when we succumb to temptation, when we feel exposed and ashamed, there's always a path to redemption, a chance to be clothed in something new. And maybe, just maybe, that path starts with embracing the comfort and protection of Shabbat, a day set apart to heal our doubts and reconnect with the Divine.