It’s a question that's haunted humanity for ages. And Jewish tradition, in its rich and imaginative way, offers some truly breathtaking answers.

In the fifth chapter of Pirkei DeRabbi Eliezer, a fascinating early medieval text that delves into biblical narratives and expands upon them, we get a glimpse into that very "before." It paints a picture of a world in its rawest, most elemental form.

Before the dry land, before even the gathering of the waters, there were the tehomot – the depths. These weren’t just any depths, mind you. These were the primordial depths, the very foundation upon which everything else would rest. Think of them as the subterranean oceans, lying beneath the earth. The earth, in this image, isn't fixed and solid as we perceive it, but rather "spread upon the water like a ship which floats in the midst of the sea." It’s a beautiful and somewhat precarious image, isn't it? A world supported by the very thing that could also swallow it whole. This echoes the sentiment we find in Psalms 136:6: "To him that spread forth the earth above the waters…"

But it doesn't stop there. Even before creation, we learn, God prepared for what was to come. Pirkei DeRabbi Eliezer tells us that He "opened an entrance to the Garden of Eden." Now, this isn't just about a beautiful garden, but a source – a wellspring from which all vegetation would spring forth. From this source "were planted upon the face of all the earth all kinds of trees yielding fruit according to their kind, and all kinds of herbs and grass thereof, and in them (was seed)." It’s that underlying promise of abundance, pre-ordained and waiting to burst forth. This, of course, connects back to Genesis 1:11, where we see the earth bringing forth vegetation.

And here’s where it gets truly wondrous. Before the creatures were even created, God prepared their sustenance. "He prepared a table for the creatures whilst as yet they were not created." It's a powerful statement about divine providence, a theme that runs deep within Jewish thought. Even before we exist, a benevolent force is anticipating our needs. This resonates beautifully with Psalm 23:5: "Thou preparest a table before me."

Finally, the text reminds us that "All the fountains arise from the depths to give water to all creatures." It's a reminder that everything is interconnected. The life-giving waters, the very essence of existence, originate from those same primordial depths, the tehomot. It’s a complete cycle, a continuous flow of sustenance and renewal.

So, what does this all mean? What can we take away from this glimpse into the "before"? Perhaps it’s a reminder of the incredible foresight and planning that went into creation. Or maybe it’s a testament to the interconnectedness of all things, the delicate balance upon which our world rests. It's about the constant flow of abundance, the ever-present provision that sustains us, even before we know we need it. And maybe, just maybe, it encourages us to look beyond the surface, to appreciate the hidden depths that lie beneath, both within ourselves and in the world around us.