There's a story in Pirkei DeRabbi Eliezer that might just shed some light on that.
It all starts with a seemingly simple statement about marriage. Rabbi Yehudah said that a wife would be either a great help to her husband, or, well, his opponent. A partner, or someone to fight against. Pretty stark. But it's what happens next that's truly fascinating.
Upon hearing this pronouncement, the Earth itself trembled! Can you imagine? The Earth, this massive, ancient being, quaking in its boots, crying out to the Creator, "I can't do it! I can't feed everyone!" It's a powerful image. from the Earth's perspective. It’s being asked to sustain all of humanity, with all its complexities and potential for conflict. It's a monumental task.
So, what does the Holy One, blessed be He, do? He steps in, offering a partnership. "I and thou will (together) feed the multitude of mankind." They divide the labor: the day belongs to the Earth, and the night… the night belongs to God.
And here's where sleep comes in. During the night, when we're vulnerable and unconscious, God sustains us. Pirkei DeRabbi Eliezer says that God "created the sleep of life, so that man lies down and sleeps whilst He sustains him and heals him and (gives) him life and repose." It even quotes Job 3:13: "I should have slept: then had I been at rest." It’s a beautiful image of divine caretaking.
The Earth, meanwhile, does its part during the day, nourished by water, yielding fruit and food. It's a cooperative effort, a divine-terrestrial partnership to keep us all alive.
But there's a catch. The text reminds us of the first man's punishment: "in toil shalt thou eat of it all the days of thy life" (Gen. 3:17). Even with this partnership, even with the Earth's bounty and God's nightly care, we still have to work. We still have to strive.
So, what does it all mean? Maybe it's a reminder that we're not alone in this world. That even when we're asleep, when we're at our most vulnerable, there's a force watching over us. Maybe it's a reminder that even the Earth, as solid and enduring as it seems, needs help. And maybe, just maybe, it's a reminder that even with divine assistance, we still have our own work to do. To till the soil, both literally and figuratively. To strive, to create, to contribute to this ongoing partnership.