It’s a question that’s occupied mystics and scholars for centuries. And some of the most fascinating answers can be found within the rich tapestry of Jewish esoteric thought.

Let’s dive into a passage from The Wars of God, a text that grapples with some pretty profound questions. It begins with a challenge to someone who apparently doubted the connection between the seas and the five faces of divinity. The text pushes back, saying this denial is a "blindfold," because the doubter hasn't truly grasped the wisdom hidden within texts like the Zohar.

Specifically, the passage points to Genesis 1:26, "And God said, 'Let us make man in our image, after our likeness.'" It emphasizes that this verse is a "secret of the Lord for those who fear Him." Who is this "God" that's doing the talking?

The text then brings in a scene with elders, one of whom, named Shimon, clarifies that this "God" is none other than the Holy One, blessed be He, who "sits in ancient days." Now, the text explains that Rabbi Shimon is called ancient but not aged, indicating a profound wisdom that transcends time.

Here's where things get really interesting. The passage introduces the concept of a divine craftsman, drawing a parallel to a king and a skilled artisan. This craftsman doesn't act on their own authority but only with the king’s permission, as Proverbs 8:30 says, "And I was with him, a skilled craftsman." In this analogy, the "higher God" is the ultimate wisdom, while the "lower God" is the manifestation, the dwelling place. The higher God is the skilled craftsman above, and the lower God is the dwelling place and manifestation, having no permission to act on its own without the permission of its master.

The text elaborates that in the realm of nobility, things happen instantaneously. When Abba (Father) says to Ima (Mother), "Let it be so," it happens, just like the creation of light or the firmament in Genesis.

But when it comes to creating humanity in the world of separation, the craftsman recognizes a problem: this creation, humanity, is destined to rebel. The text quotes Proverbs 10:1, "A wise son brings joy to his father, but a foolish son brings grief to his mother." The mother, representing the Shekhinah (the divine feminine presence), wants to dissolve the partnership, as humanity’s obligation depends on her and not the Father. Thus, Genesis 1:27 states, "And God created man in His own image," without explicit mention of the Father's participation. In a time of anger, what is written? 'Because of your sins, your mother was sent away.'

The king argues that the mother should have foreseen this rebellion. The text then distinguishes between two Adams: the "wise son" from the realm of nobility, and the "foolish son" from the created world.

Rabbi Shevivi adds another layer, suggesting that the Holy One, blessed be He, didn't initially agree to create Adam. It was the Shekhinah who pleaded for Adam's existence. Rabbi Makdish further explains that the "middle pillar," the "wise son," refers to Adam from the realm of nobility, while the "foolish son" is Adam HaRishon, the first Adam. This distinction highlights the potential for both wisdom and folly within humanity.

Finally, Rabbi Makdish offers a fascinating interpretation of the phrase "And God said" in relation to Adam's creation. He suggests it implies the Mother saying to the Father, "Let us make man." This contrasts with the usual interpretation where the Father speaks and the Mother understands.

What does all this mean? It suggests a complex, dynamic relationship within the divine, a conversation, even a debate, about the very nature and destiny of humanity. It also implies that our creation was not a simple, straightforward act, but a nuanced and even contested process, with different aspects of the divine bringing different perspectives to the table. It's a powerful reminder that even within the seemingly monolithic concept of "God," there's room for complexity, for relationship, and for the messy, beautiful reality of creation itself.