Genesis 1: Round 2

I call this Genesis 1 Round 2 because we encounter the process of Genesis 1 reemerge in Exodus at the Red Sea Crossing. To set the stage, Genesis 1 begins with the ruach of God hovering over the waters in the darkness. (Ruach is translated as Spirit, but it also means wind.) In the story of the Red Sea Crossing, we read that the Lord drove the sea back by a strong east wind all night. So again, we see the ruach moving over the waters in the darkness. Now in Genesis, here is the progression: 

Day 1: separation of light from darkness

Day 2: waters are separated with sky in between

Day 3: appearance of dry land from water

Day 4: governing bodies introduced (sun, moon, stars)

Day 5: life below and life above; the tanniym are mentioned specifically 

Day 6: mankind is created

Day 7: Sabbath  

These stages map the process by which God brings about a new creation. It is appropriate that we find these stages in the story of the Red Sea Crossing, since that event marks the beginning of the Jewish nation as a free people. The first three stages are hinted at as follows:

In Exodus 14:19-20, the Angel of God moves between the Israelites and the Egyptians. We see here a separation of light and darkness (literally and metaphorically).  

In Exodus 14:21, we see the waters are divided with sky in between.  

In Exodus 14:21-22, we see the sea giving way to dry land. 

The fourth stage of creation introduces governing bodies (ie. the sun, moon, and stars which govern the earth and its movement; they orient the earth to know its position; they rule over it in certain aspects). We find this theme occurring in the Exodus account as well, and right on schedule. In Exodus 14:31, we read: “When Israel saw the great work that Adonai did over the Egyptians, the people feared Adonai, and they believed in Adonai and in His servant Moses.” It’s like at this moment Moses is officially recognized as a governing body. We’re told that “Moses led Israel onward from the Sea of Reeds” (Ex. 15:22). Contrast this to earlier, when “God led the people to the Sea of Reeds” (Ex. 13:18). Clearly, something happens at the Sea of Reeds: Moses officially becomes a governing body. This is reminiscent of the story of creation: at first the light of God is the only light that exists, but then on Day 4, a physical vessel––the sun––takes on that role. Now here in Exodus, at first God leads the people to the Sea of Reeds, but then a physical vessel––Moses––leads them onward. The very next chapter, Exodus 15, begins: “Then Moses and the sons of Israel sang this song to Adonai...” If the parallel holds, Moses (and Miriam for that matter) come into play as governing bodies, paralleling that of the sun and moon on Day 4. 

On Day 5 of creation, we see activity below (in the sea) and activity above (in the air).  The refrain that begins and ends the song of the Sea is, “I will sing to Adonai, for He is highly exalted!  (above)  The horse and its rider He has thrown into the sea.”  (below)  Day 5 of creation specifically mentions a type of creature called the tanniym.  Some translations translate tanniym as “great whales” or “great sea creatures.”  Elsewhere in the Bible, it is translated as “dragons” or “monsters” or “serpents.”  But significantly, the very next place the tanniym are mentioned is in Exodus 7, in the showdown between Moses and Pharaoh.  Aaron throws his staff down and it becomes a tanniym.  Pharaoh then commands his magicians to throw down their staffs, and they too become tanniym!  And we all know what happens next: Aaron’s staff swallows up their staffs.  The point is, the tanniym point to a battle between good and evil, a showdown in which good wins and evil loses.  When we read through the Song of the Sea, this is exactly what we find!  Good against evil, and the Lord triumphs over His adversaries.   

After the Song of the Sea, we read about the bitter waters of Marah being made sweet. For a moment, though, skip this and jump over to the very next chapter, Exodus 16. Exodus 16 is the chapter about Sabbath! So sandwiched between the Song of the Sea and Sabbath, what do we find? A short description of a unique event, when the bitter waters of Marah were made sweet. If we’re lining this up with the process described in Genesis 1, the bitter waters of Marah would connect to the sixth stage of creation.  The bitter waters of Marah would serve as a kind of commentary on Day 6. 

In this portion of the story, the Israelites journey for three days before they come upon an oasis in the desert. This oasis is good, but there’s an issue. In its current state, the waters can’t be enjoyed completely. God responds by doing something which seems odd: He shows Moses a tree. Moses then puts this tree into the water. Once the tree is introduced to the water, the experience of the water becomes sweet. The people can then savor the water and enjoy it completely.  

Man is symbolized by a tree. The Garden of Eden is symbolized by Marah; after all, the Garden of Eden was an oasis of nourishment and life in a vast area of dry land (dry land being made three days before Day 6). Following the parallel: when God places man in the Garden, the Garden becomes “sweet” to Him. As if to say, the Garden without man was missing something. Its chemistry needed something more from above. So God made man and put him in the Garden (Genesis 2:8). Once man was introduced to the mix, the oasis was made complete. God could enjoy it fully. What God then tells them in Exodus 15:26 parallels what God tells man on Day 6 (found in Genesis 2:16-17). 

We then read: “Then they came to Elim, where there were twelve springs of water and seventy palm trees. So they camped there by the waters.” I like to think this is a picture of what humanity “came to.” As in, the 12 tribes of Israel / the 12 disciples of Jesus flowing outward and feeding the 70 nations. It’s like a wide lens view of the creation of man on Day 6. 

Then of course you flip the page and encounter the chapter where God teaches the Israelites about Sabbath. Amazing! Definitely something to think about. 

The Tree of Life

Genesis 3 is the fall of man. You know the story well: the serpent enters the Garden and launches his attack on Adam and Eve. The scene unfolds in the middle of the Garden in the shade of the Tree of Knowledge. After the serpent uses his lips to deceive them, Adam and Eve take and eat the forbidden fruit. Later, when they hear God approaching, they hide from Him. God’s first words to sinful man are, “Where are you?” God then confronts them about what they did. Adam and Eve still hide, in that Adam points his finger at Eve, and Eve points her finger at the serpent. But their excuses cannot change the outcome: they are evicted from the Garden. God stations two cherubim on the east perimeter; the cherubim have a sword, and they are commissioned to guard the way to the Tree of Life.

Keep these details in mind as we jump forward many pages in the Bible.

Landing at the end of Exodus, we find that God wants to dwell among His people as He did in the Garden. He commands Moses to build a tabernacle. The tabernacle is a mobile home, so to speak. As the Israelites journey through the wilderness, the tabernacle is disassembled, transported, then reassembled at the next stop. When reassembled, the Levites are careful to orient the Tabernacle in the same direction every time: the Holy of Holies always toward the west, and the entrance/exit always toward the east. This is no small issue, because approaching the Holy of Holies is tantamount to returning to the Garden of Eden.

Imagine yourself approaching the Holy of Holies. Moving westward, you would eventually come up to the veil which divides the Holy Place from the Holy of Holies. Embroidered on the veil are cherubim (Exodus 36:35). You can venture no further than these cherubim. The cherubim mark a boundary line that you cannot cross. But you know that behind these cherubim, God’s immediate presence rests on the ark of the covenant, a continuum of Day 7 in the Garden of Eden. Now the ark of the covenant has two poles attached to it. In Hebrew, the poles are not called poles, though. The Torah calls them atzey––“trees” (Exodus 25:13). In other words, behind the cherubim are two trees. The trees are in the middle of the Holy of Holies like the two trees were in the middle of the Garden of Eden.

Again, you are not allowed to enter this space. The embroidered cherubim which tower over you block your passage. The same goes for everyone else as well. No one is allowed to enter. That is, but for one exception: the High Priest alone, on one day a year (Yom Kippur). On this chosen day, this chosen man may enter, but when he does, he does so with great fear and trepidation. Every motivation must be pure, every action perfect. There is no room for error; his very life depends on it. Therefore he stays up all night beforehand to ready himself, check himself, make sure he doesn’t misstep or forget one detail in a long sequence of duties. He feels the weight of the moment: God is here allowing him and only him to venture around the cherubim and enter into the perfection of the Garden of Eden. If his actions or motivations are less than perfect, the sheer holiness of God will consume his life (as happened to two very respected individuals in Leviticus 10). But if the High Priest does exactly as God commands, he is able to enter the Garden, atone for his people, then escape with his life.

In these short, tense moments on Yom Kippur, a very fallen humanity comes as close as it can get to the immediate presence of a perfectly holy God. But amazingly, the story isn’t over yet. God’s rescue mission is about to be realized.

We jump forward to the New Testament. I would like to point out that the word “garden” (kepos in Greek, with various conjugations) is used only 6 times in all 27 books. Five of those occurrences are found in the last few chapters of John. This should catch our attention. If John includes a detail, not only is it historically accurate, it is spiritually significant. When the word “garden” is used, at some level John is tracing a connection to the original garden, the Garden of Eden. Notice where we find the word “garden” in his Gospel:

John 18:1: When he had finished praying, Jesus left with his disciples and crossed the Kidron Valley. On the other side there was a garden, and he and his disciples went into it.

John 18:26: One of the high priest’s servants, a relative of the man whose ear Peter had cut off, challenged Peter, “Didn’t I see you with him in the garden?” Peter denied it, and at that moment a rooster began to crow.

John 19:41: At the place where Jesus was crucified, there was a garden, and in the garden a new tomb, in which no one had ever been laid.

John 20:15: Jesus asked her, “Woman, why are you crying? Who is it you are looking for?” Thinking he was the garden-keeper, she said, “Sir, if you have carried him away, tell me where you have put him, and I will get him.”

In sum, we find that: Jesus is betrayed in a garden; Peter hides from what he did in a garden; Jesus is crucified in a garden; Jesus is buried in a garden; His resurrection is in a garden.

Each of these events is tied to Genesis 3. John isn’t making the connection as much as he is marveling at what God has done. Let us do the same. We’ll see that everything Jesus does in a garden is a correction to that which took place in the original Garden.

What unfolds in the Garden of Gethsemane is an encounter between good and evil. Recall, back in Genesis 3, who entered the Garden? Who came to attack? The serpent. Now reading in John, who comes into the garden? Judas does. And it says earlier that Satan had entered into him (Luke 22:3). So the old serpent is back! The serpent who betrayed Adam and Eve with his lips will now, through Judas, betray the Son of Man with his lips (a kiss). We read that Judas guides a detachment of soldiers into the garden. Imagine a sort of mob falling in line behind Judas as they travel up the winding path into the garden. Looking down at them from above, the mob even resembles a snake with Judas at the head!

As these men approach Jesus, what does Peter do? Well, since Jesus embodies the Tree of Life, of course Peter pulls out a sword! A sword to guard the way to the Tree of Life. But here, Jesus’ instruction to Peter is profound. He tells Peter to put the sword away. This is a picture of God commanding the cherubim to lay down the sword. The Tree of Life, you see, is making itself available to man.  

But there is an issue: the right ear of the high priest’s servant has been severed. Jesus, stepping into action, heals the man. It’s a picture of how God is undoing the damage that’s been done. He is healing the separation. It’s meaningful, too, that the injured man would have served in the Temple (him being the high priest’s servant). According to Leviticus 21:18, any physical deformity disqualifies a person from serving in the Temple. Having lost his ear, this man had effectively lost his position. But when Jesus heals the wound––when He undoes the separation––the man’s privileges are restored. Again he can serve in the Sanctuary. It’s a picture of how God is returning man to the Garden. He is picking up the fallenness of the right side and restoring what was once lost.

We next encounter the word garden when Peter is confronted. The person who confronts Peter is a relative of the man whose ear Peter had struck. This person says to Peter, “Didn’t I see you with Jesus in the garden?” Behind the question, the person is thinking, “Wait, isn’t this the guy who injured my relative?” Peter responds by denying his actions: “No that wasn’t me!” Basically Peter hides from what he did in the garden, reminiscent of the way Adam and Eve hid from what they did in the Garden. If you remember the story, Adam and Eve felt shame and had to go outside the Garden. It’s interesting that Luke tells us Peter “went outside and wept.” No doubt his tears were tears of shame.

We see that Jesus is crucified and buried in a garden. When he is buried, He is put into the earth (which is cursed). When he is crucified, He wears a crown of thorns (thorns being part of the curse). The night beforehand, He sweats blood (sweat also being part of the curse). Through each of these, Jesus is bearing the curse of Genesis 3.  We read that when Jesus is crucified, the veil in the Temple is torn from top to bottom. Remember that cherubim are embroidered on the veil. So when the veil rips in two, the cherubim embroidered on the veil separate. Symbolically God is commanding the cherubim to step aside. Through Jesus’ death, God is tearing open a way for man to reenter the Garden.

We must recall why man was evicted from the Garden in the first place. Because of sin, yes. But more exactly, it was because man, in his fallen state, could stretch out his hand and eat from the Tree of Life and live forever (Genesis 3:22). Of course, living forever sounds ideal at surface value! But living forever in a fallen state is to be forever caught in a diminished version of reality. It keeps us from sharing in the intimacy that God desires to have with us. So what does God do? He separates man from the Tree of Life so that man will die. Death is the doorway through which man can shed his fallenness and reenter into God’s Presence. In this sense, death is a gift! It is our portal away from the curse.

But a problem remains. If man dies, death takes him! Death robs him away from God who is Life. So incredibly, God takes the matter into His own hands. God goes through the doorway Himself. He claims authority on the other side. He then steps back on this side and says, “Alright, it’s safe now. Go through the doorway and I will take you; death will not.”

Returning from the other side, Jesus is resurrected in a garden. In fact, this is the final occurrence of the word garden in the New Testament. Mary thinks He is the garden-keeper when she encounters Him. He says to Mary, “Woman...” This is meaningful, because in a deeper sense, He is talking to “woman”––as in––Eve, the woman. He says, “Why are you crying? Who is it you are looking for?”

Think back to God’s first words to fallen man: “Where are you?” At the time, God was searching for man. But now, thousands of years later, the question Jesus asks is, “Who is it you are looking for?” My how the tables have turned! At first God was searching for man, but now man is searching for God. What does Mary say? She asks Him for directions. She wants to know His whereabouts.

Again, we see that everything Jesus does in a garden is a correction to what took place in the original Garden. Through Jesus, the way to the Tree of Life is open––first spiritually, then physically. If we jump to the very last chapter of the Bible, Revelation 22, we find that God’s rescue mission is a success. It proclaims, “Then the angel showed me the river of the water of life, bright as crystal, flowing from the throne. . .through the middle of the street of the city; also, on either side of the river, the Tree of Life with its twelve kinds of fruit, yielding its fruit each month. . .No longer will there be any curse, but the throne of God and of the Lamb will be in it, and his servants will worship him. . .the Lord God will be their light, and they will reign forever and ever (Revelation 22:1-5 ESV). The Tree of Life is so large that it spans the width of the river! Such that the tree can be accessed on either riverbank. Verse 14 adds, “Blessed are those who wash their robes, so that they may have the right to the Tree of Life and that they may enter the city by the gates.” 

To have the right to the Tree of Life, with what do you wash your robes? With the water from the river of life? Good guess, but no! Rather, you wash your robes in the blood of the Lamb! (See Revelation 7:13-17.) And this is key: it is His death that affords you the right to the Tree of Life. Death is a portal away from the curse, yes, but it’s His death! You must enter in through His death to access the Garden and marvel at what it has become: a Garden with many mansions! So many mansions that it’s become a city, a city with streets paved of gold and children splashing in water as bright as crystal. 

Light Before the Sun?

How is it that God introduces light on Day 1, yet the sun doesn’t come around until Day 4? It seems like God would need to make the sun first, then the sun would produce the light. 

Interestingly, it’s been said that the light of Day 1 was strictly a spiritual light, whereas the light of Day 4 was physical light. Adam and Eve––when they were created––walked in both of these. They saw the spiritual and physical equally; to their eyes, both were obvious. However, when sin entered the picture, something happened. Either the spiritual light withdrew or man became blind to it. Either way, the Rabbis say that God is reserving the spiritual light for the righteous in the world to come. 
           
In the meantime, He takes the spiritual light (of Day 1) and encapsulates it into His Word. As it says, “His Word is a lamp unto my feet and a light unto my path” (Psalms 119:105). And then, “The Word became flesh and dwelt among us” (John 1:14). Of course, “He is the light of the world” (John 8:12). And He tells those who follow Him that “You are the light of the world” (Matthew 5:14). So you see, the light of Day 1 is still here; it’s just packaged differently. It’s not something we perceive our eyes, but with the eyes of our heart. The light remains available to us, but available only through faith in Him. By faith, we perceive the light of Day 1 during this present darkness. 

A day is coming, though, when the world will be repaired, and the light of Day 1 and the light of Day 4 will again be seen together, and as obviously as Adam and Eve first experienced it. It is said in the Bible’s very last chapter, “There will be no more night. [His servants] will not need the light of a lamp or the light of the sun, for the Lord God will give them light” (Revelation 22:5). 

YHVH and the Number 26

“God said to Moses, ‘Say this to the people of Israel, ‘The LORD, the God of your fathers, the God of Abraham, the God of Isaac, and the God of Jacob, has sent me to you.’ This is my name forever, and thus I am to be remembered throughout all generations’” (Exodus 3:15).

When reading the Old Testament, you may come across the word “LORD” printed in capital letters. This is because many versions of the Bible make no attempt to translate the most holy and sacred name of God: יהוה (yod - hei - vav - hei) (YHVH). Four letters long, it is sometimes referred to as the Tetragrammaton, a Greek word meaning “the sign of the four [letters].” Depending on what circle you’re in, you may hear these letters pronounced Yahweh or Jehovah––but understand, both are attempts to pronounce the same four Hebrew letters that constitute God’s personal name as revealed to Moses at the burning bush. 

In Jewish circles, “the name YHVH is considered so holy that the Jews dare not speak it. Whenever the Torah is being read aloud and the name of YHVH is encountered, the word Adonai (“Lord”) or Hashem (“The Name”) is substituted in order to avoid uttering this holy name. Also when copying Torah scrolls, a scribe exercises the utmost caution when printing God’s name. Before printing the letters, he says aloud, “I am about to write the name of God in honor of His holy name.” If a king should address him as he writes the name of God, he is not permitted to pause for a reply, but must first complete the printing of these four letters. And, should a scribe make the slightest error in printing God’s name, he is forbidden to correct his mistake. The entire sheet of parchment must be replaced” (Grant Luton, In His Own Words, pg. 4). 

Something fascinating about God’s holy name is revealed when we convert the letters (yod - hei - vav - hei) to numbers. As we know, the Hebrew alphabet is alphanumeric. Every letter doubles as a number. Below are the first ten letters and their numeric equivalence:

If you do the math, the Tetragrammaton adds up to 26. 

י  +  ה  +  ו  +  ה

5  +  6  +  5  + 10  =  26

In connection, we find that a cube has 26 identical features:

Features of a Cube:

 12  Identical Edges

  8  Identical Corners

  6  Identical Surfaces

_________________________

 26  Features

This shape with 26 features is relevant if we take into account God’s dwelling place in the past, present, and future. In the past, He dwelt in the Holy of Holies. The Holy of Holies was a perfect cube. In the future, He will dwell in the new Jerusalem. The new Jerusalem is a perfect cube. And right now, in the present moment, He dwells within us. Who are we? He calls us the salt of the earth. The salt crystal happens to be the only cube found in nature. 

Past: “Then he prepared an inner sanctuary within the house in order to place there the ark of the covenant of the LORD. The inner sanctuary was twenty cubits in length, twenty cubits in width, and twenty cubits in height” (1 Kings 6:19-20). 

Present: “You are the salt of the earth” (Matthew 5:13).

Future: “The city was laid out like a square, as long as it was wide. He measured the city with the rod and found it to be 12,000 stadia in length, and as wide and high as it is long” (Revelation 21:16). 

Slavery in the Bible

“There is neither Jew nor Gentile, neither slave nor free, nor is there male and female, for you are all one in Christ Jesus” (Galatians 3:28). As true as this is, it does not change the fact that slavery was permitted by the Torah. Why would God permit such an institution at any point in time? Is the Torah a pro-slavery document?

Good questions deserve meaningful answers. I have encountered those who ask good questions but do not want to take the time to explore meaningful answers. If you’re ready to ask about slavery in the Bible, then you have to be ready to explore a meaningful answer. I believe a meaningful answer begins with a conversation about the nature of the Torah itself. The following is lifted from Rabbi Akiva Tatz in his book WorldMask:  

“All relationships between people involve giving and taking. In some aspects of a relationship, one party is the giver and the other receives, and in some aspects the direction of giving is the reverse. Any particular individual relates to others on a continuum of giving or taking––some people are the givers, some are the takers. 

“In human relationships, the polarities of giving and taking can be expressed as obligations and rights. My rights are your obligations: my right to property is your obligation not to steal. My right to free speech is your obligation to allow me to speak freely. A worker’s right to a living wage is his employer’s obligation to pay that wage. It is your obligation to see to it that my rights remain intact. Every right implies an obligation; the rights of an individual are the obligations of society at large. 

“The important point to grasp here is that rights and obligations are interlocked; neither is meaningful without the other. There can be no rights without obligations. 

“Rights are parallel to taking, and obligations are parallel to giving. After all, my rights are due to me; they are mine. Obligations are those things which I have to do for you; I have to give up some of my freedom and desires in order to accommodate your rights. In guarding my rights, I am a taker; in honoring my obligations, I am a giver.

“Of course, both rights and obligations are true and necessary. Each individual has a right to expect that which is due to him and an obligation to provide others with all that is due to them. But the essential question is: where is your focus? What concerns you more––your rights or your obligations? A person who is concerned with his rights is a taker; one who is concerned with his obligations is a giver. Focusing on one’s rights is focusing on the self––a constant awareness of one’s needs and the desire to satisfy them. Focusing on one’s obligations is focusing on others and the function of giving.

“Modern society is largely concerned with rights. The wording of the Constitutions of Western democracies is revealing––they unfailingly focus on rights. In fact, they are often little more than a detailed enumeration of the rights of the individuals within that particular society.

“In striking contrast is the Torah. The Torah never mentions rights, only obligations! Nowhere does the Torah speak of an individual’s right to his property; only his obligation not to steal. No mention of a right to life or liberty; only stringent admonitions not to murder or interfere with the liberty of one’s fellow. Not even a cursory mention of one’s right to happiness, dignity, physical well-being or sustenance; only strong reminders of the duty to provide others with these. And so on. 

“Of course rights exist; of course they are important. But the point is that the focus is everything. When each person focuses on his obligations carefully, the rights take care of themselves. If no one steals, everyone’s right to property is assured automatically. If no one bears false witness, everyone’s right to know the truth is assured automatically. When everyone is giving, everyone receives.

“This difference of focus has far-reaching practical consequences. Consider the relationship between master and slave: the slave must work for his master as best he is able, and the master must treat his slave as a brother. Obviously, if both live up to their obligations, the relationship will be productive and peaceful. But when the master focuses on the slave’s obligation to work hard, and the slave keeps demanding that the master treat him better instead of working as he should––when each one forgets his obligations and thinks only of his rights––the result is war. And both are quoting the Torah! When the master reminds the slave that he is supposed to work single-mindedly and the slave reminds the master that he is supposed to treat him like a brother, both are absolutely correct––but they are focusing on the wrong end of the deal, and that is where the problems begin.

“In like manner, consider two people in marriage, each trying to give to the other––the result is an idyllic relationship. Two people, each focusing on what the other owes––the result is marital strife. And paradoxically, the surest way to lose one’s personal happiness is to demand it as a right from one’s spouse. 

“Applications of this principle are to be found everywhere. In an industrial society, when employers treat employees fairly and the workers serve loyally, all is well. But when workers are concerned about their rights primarily, the natural result is that in order to protect and enforce their rights, they band together in a union. The union has the power to paralyze the industry, so the employers form a national association of employers to fight the stranglehold of the union, and the result is battle.

“A society which enshrines rights is a society which develops takers. A society which focuses on obligations develops givers.”

Rabbi Akiva Tatz, WorldMask: The World of Obligations, pg. 100-106

As you can gather, rights and obligations are two sides of the same menorah. Your right to property is my obligation not to steal. Your obligation not to murder is my right to life. In the Torah, rights are implicit and obligations are explicit. This is because God is a giver, and He wants His people to be like Him. Since obligations are equivalent to giving, the Torah speaks in terms of obligations. Here is an example of this in a different context…

“At the end of every seven years, you are to cancel debts. This is how you are to cancel debts: every creditor is to release what he has loaned to his neighbor. He must not force his neighbor or his brother to repay, for God’s debt cancellation has been proclaimed…If there is a poor man among you, you are not to harden your heart or shut your hand against your poor brother. Rather, you must surely open your hand to him and you must surely lend him enough for his need––whatever he is lacking. Watch yourself, so there is no unworthy thing in your heart saying, ‘The seventh year, the year of canceling debts, is near,’ and your eye is evil against your poor brother and you give him nothing. Then he may call out to God against you, and it will be a sin upon you” (Deuteronomy 15).

Notice, God focuses on the creditor’s obligations, not on the debtor’s rights. Can you imagine the passage reading this way:

“At the end of seven years, everything you owe is cancelled. This is how you become debt-free: every debtor is to be released from his debt. You cannot be forced to repay. . .If you are a poor man, you must be given enough for your need. Do not let a creditor give you nothing. If a creditor gives you nothing, call out to God against him. It will be a sin upon him. You must surely get what you need.”

I’ve taken the same passage but adjusted the focus to rights instead of obligations. The effect is drastic. My version would create takers, not givers, and you can imagine the ungrateful and demanding attitude that would ensue. Therefore, it’s important to see that God speaks to the creditor, with the emphasis on obligation. 

Elsewhere, He speaks to the debtor: “If a man...swears an oath to bind himself by a pledge, he shall not break his word. He shall do according to all that proceeds out of his mouth” (Numbers 30:2). Again we see the emphasis is obligation. A debtor’s obligation to the creditor is to repay the debt. Only when the priority is obligation does the system work.

Returning to our conversation about slavery, only when the priority is obligation does the system work. When the focus is on obligation, here is the result: as a slave owner, I am obligated to treat my slave justly and fairly, without partiality. After all, he is my brother. As a slave, I am obligated to obey my master sincerely, rendering service of a good will. After all, he is my master.

Paul understands this concept well when he writes: “Slaves, obey your earthly masters with respect and fear, and with sincerity of heart, just as you would obey Christ. Obey them not only to win their favor when their eye is on you, but as slaves of Christ, doing the will of God from your heart. Serve wholeheartedly, as if you were serving the Lord, not people, because you know that the Lord will reward each one for whatever good they do, whether they are slave or free. And masters, treat your slaves in the same way. Do not threaten them, since you know that he who is both their Master and yours is in heaven, and there is no favoritism with him” (Ephesians 6:5-9 NIV).

As long as the two parties focus on their obligations to one another, the relationship remains healthy. However, if they turn to focus on their rights––on that which is owed to them––the relationship sickens. The slave owner says, “I am your master; you owe me work.” But the slave says, “I am your brother. You owe me equality.” Although they are both correct, their prioritizing of the self corrupts the relationship. 

If they flip their focus right-side up, the slave owner says, “You are my brother. If we have one pillow, you get the pillow. If we have food, you eat first. I will treat you as my brother.” The slave says, “You are my master. I will obey you, and serve you wholeheartedly. I will treat you as my master.” 

This follows along with what Rabbi Hirsch says in his commentary on the Torah. He writes, “The master is obligated to treat the servant with complete equality in all matters of the household: in food, in drink, and in clothing. Thus the maxim: Whoever buys a Hebrew slave is like one who buys himself a master. Both parties face a formidable moral test: ‘You (the master) must treat him as a brother, but he (the slave) must treat himself and behave as a slave’ (Toras Kohanim on Vayika 25:39-40)” (The Hirsch Chumash, Shemos, pg. 368-369). 

Suffice to say, the kind of slavery God permitted in the Torah was a very different experience than the kind of slavery America permitted. The slavery that came about in America’s history was despicable, ungodly, Torahless. Abolitionists like John Adams were correct to call it “evil” (Source). Being a society built on rights, America’s version of slavery was doomed from the beginning. It had no choice but to become more and more evil.

Being a system built on obligations, however, the Torah’s version of slavery was not evil. To the degree ancient Israel abided by the Torah, to that degree the institution of slavery was permitted by God. In other words, God permitted slavery so long as the spirit of obligation was at the center of it. 

Is the Earth Young or Old? Yes!

The following comes from Dr. Gerald Schroeder, a distinguished physicist (also an Orthodox Jew) who received his PhD in nuclear physics and planetary sciences from MIT. He worked for MIT for five years, and he was a member of the US Atomic Energy Commission. He now lives in Israel where he teaches on a variety of subjects. I came to know him when I first heard what I am about to share with you. Before hearing this, I was one of those believers perplexed by the young earth vs. old earth debate. I had heard solid arguments from both sides. In fact, my mom was a young-earther and my dad was an old-earther; I was literally caught in the middle. But when I came across Dr. Schroeder’s position, I realized that my mom and dad both had it right. For the first time, I saw the menorah that balances the whole matter. Allow me to share with you the position as he explains it:

The universe began as an infinitesimal speck smaller than the period at that the end of this sentence. This speck did not exist in a vacuum, because a vacuum is space. The speck by itself was physically all that existed. It harbored all the energy of the universe. There was a blast unlike anything we can comprehend. The universe expanded outward, and as it did so, the energy within it congealed, coalesced, and condensed into matter. (Einstein proved that energy can become matter.) Once the energy turned into matter, time grabbed ahold and the clock began.

When God tells Moses the story of creation, He is looking forward from the beginning. He is not looking backward from Sinai. God is looking forward from the beginning. From this vantage point, God tells Moses in six days the universe is created. So accordingly, Moses writes in the Torah that God created the universe in six days. 

We have an issue now, because modern cosmologists are confident that the universe is billions of years old. They will tell you with certainty, “The universe is billions of years old.” However, there’s another half of the sentence that goes unsaid, because it goes without saying for everyone in their profession. The full statement is, “The universe is billions of years old as seen from the space-time coordinates we exist in.” And it’s this second-half that holds the key! It makes all the difference, because the Torah looks forward in time from very different space-time coordinates––from the beginning, when the universe was small. But since that time, the universe has expanded outward via a stretching of the fabric of space. The stretching of space radically changes the perception of time. This is Einstein’s understanding of relativity.

To illustrate this idea, let’s say we time-travel back billions and billions of years ago. We reach a place somewhere in the universe that is close to the beginning of time. We’ve taken with us a special laser that can send pulses of light forward in time. We hold up the laser and send a pulse of light once every second. These beams of light fly off like segmented lines, each one separated by a second in time. Now our friend––who remained in the present moment of 2016 AD––has a huge satellite dish that’s ready to detect our signal coming from the beginning of time. Suddenly, his dish picks up the first pulse of light. Our friend is ecstatic! Catching his breath, he waits for the next one. Does the next one come in one second? No! Not at all. In fact, our friend may have to wait millions of years before he receives the next pulse of light. 

The reason for this is because of what separates us from our friend. While those pulses of light journey through space over time, the universe expands. Space itself stretches. The space between each beam stretches, so the beams get further and further and further apart. To us, what is a second’s worth of space between each beam is perceived by our friend in the distant future as a gap spanning millions of years. 

You see, scientists look at time going backward, and they see billions and billions of years. God looks at time from the beginning going forward, so He tells Moses six days. Neither are incorrect. And here’s something amazing: according to Dr. Schroeder, we now have the data to know the relationship between the view of time at the beginning relative to the view of time today. It’s been quantified. The general relationship between the view of time then to the view the time now is X times a million million (1,000,000,000,000x). To be clear, let’s return to our illustration: if our view from the beginning looking forward observed a one second gap between each pulse of light, our friend in 2016 would observe a pulse of light once every million million seconds. This measurement accounts for the stretching of space. It’s the effect of the expansion of the universe. 

So the Torah says the creation of the universe took place in 6 days. The question becomes, how would we today perceive those 6 days? Well, taking into account the stretching of space, we would observe them as 6 million million days. And you can do the math: 6,000,000,000,000 divided by 365 comes out to 16.4 billion years! Essentially the age of the universe estimated by today’s scientific community.

So is the earth thousands of years young? Or is the earth billions of years old? The answer is yes! It just depends on which direction you’re looking.

(Dr. Schroeder’s book, The Science of God, takes you by the hand and walks you through the math of these calculations. I recommend listening to his hour long lecture on this subject, via simpletoremember.com. The lecture is one of their top audio teachings. Also, someone posted the lecture to Youtube and broke it down into five parts with added video; for that, click here. In Part 5 (the end of his lecture), he provides additional information I have not included. I should mention that in the lecture, he builds the case slowly, whereas I have distilled the subject to its core essence. I urge you to hear the whole lesson.)

Genesis 1 in the Gospel of John

-John 1:1-

Ἐν  ἀρχῇ  ἦν  ὁ  Λόγος,  καὶ  ὁ  Λόγος  ἦν  πρὸς  τὸν  Θεόν,  καὶ  Θεὸς  ἦν  ὁ  Λόγος. 

“In the beginning was the Word, and the Word was with God, and God was the Word.”

With an opening phrase like, “In the beginning...” John is clearly making a parallel to the creation story in Genesis 1. What isn’t so obvious is that the parallels don’t end there. By way of his Gospel, John is communicating a profound message: that Jesus, the Word, is God. And just as God brought forth the world in Genesis, Jesus came to bring forth a world to come, a spiritual world, a world into which He invites even the chief of sinners. Therefore, the story of Jesus is no less significant than the story of creation itself. To refresh our memory, let’s look briefly at the story of creation.

“In the beginning...” it begins. The central element introduced on Day 1 is light. God declares, “Let there be light!” And there is light, which He separates from the darkness. On the second day, God separates the waters above from the waters below by creating a firmament in between called sky. On the third day, “seed” is the key word. It is repeated 6 times when describing this day: there is seed seeding seed. Seed goes forth to spout up new life across the dry land: all sorts of seed-bearing plants and trees with seed-bearing fruit crop up across the land. On the fourth day, God creates the sun, moon, and stars; He says let these heavenly bodies serve as signs, and for appointed times. On day five and six, He creates an abundance of animals. Thereafter He creates man, and then woman. On the seventh day, it is the Sabbath day, and God rests.

I was shown that the first five chapters of John follow the same format! It’s very subtle, but John drops just enough hints for his readers to sense the parallels. Let’s go through John’s account and connect the dots.

Beginning in John 1, we encounter a light shining into the darkness, but the darkness does not comprehend it. We’re given a revelation about this light––that Jesus is the true light that gives light to all men. 

Following this description of Jesus being the light, we’re introduced to a man named John. What does John do? He baptizes in water––the waters below. When he baptizes Jesus, we encounter a dove that crosses the firmament, coming down from above to land on Jesus in the waters below. 

We come to the next part of the story: Jesus turns around and sees two of John’s disciples following Him. Andrew is one of them. Andrew goes and gets his brother Simon Peter. They both become Jesus’ disciples. Then Jesus calls Phillip. Phillip goes and finds Nathaniel. What do we see here? We see the seed going forth; the word is getting out. Life is beginning to spread, and spread, and spread. We encounter the first mention of the word tree in this section, a nod to Day 3 of creation. 

The next portion of John’s Gospel describes a wedding at Cana in Galilee. Here we encounter the first mention of the word sign, a nod to Day 4 of creation when the sun and moon were created to be signs marking appointed times. Jesus says, “My appointed time has not yet come.” Also interesting to note: in Jewish thought, the sun is viewed as the masculine and the moon is viewed as the feminine. (The sun initiates the light; the moon receives and reflects the light.) Here we have a wedding celebration which brings a masculine and a feminine together. But note, it’s a fallen wedding because there is no wine. In other words, the joy has run out. So Jesus brings correction. The master of the wedding tastes what Jesus has done, and he declares it good. 

After the wedding, we then follow Jesus to Jerusalem where we encounter animals. We see cattle, sheep, and doves being sold in the temple courts. Jesus drives the animals and the money-changers out of His Father’s House. It’s like the animals that God had created for man to look after were being brought into the very temple of God where man was exploiting them to make a profit. Again we see Jesus bringing correction.

In the story of creation, what comes after the animals? Man, and then woman. So after this event with the animals, we next encounter Jesus having a conversation with a man . . . and then a woman. He speaks with “a man named Nicodemus” in chapter 3; He speaks with the woman at the well in chapter 4. 

Of course, after creating man and woman, God rested on the Sabbath Day. After Jesus speaks with the man named Nicodemus and the woman at the well, we segue into chapter 5 where John tells of Jesus restoring the wellness of a man at the pool of Bethesda. We read in verse 9: “The day on which this took place was a Sabbath.” John 5 occurs on the Sabbath Day! What a beautiful thing! It aligns with the pattern set down by God in Genesis 1. And even more beautiful––it’s at this point that Jesus says, “Truly truly I say to you, the Son can do nothing by himself; he can do only what he sees his Father doing, because whatever the Father does the Son also does.” 

John senses the big picture; he sees that it’s come full circle. Genesis describes the creation of a flawless and sinless world. But man sinned, and thereby departed from God’s Presence. So here is John describing how God brings correction: God embodies His Word––the very words of creation––and as a flawless and sinless man, He opens a pathway for us to enter into a new world. 

God’s first statement to sinful man is, “Where are you?” 
In John, His first words to man (through Jesus) are when Jesus notices some people following Him. He turns around and says, “What are you looking for?” 

You see, in Genesis, God is seeking man. But now after this long passage of time since man’s departure from the Garden, in light of all the suffering that sin has caused, the tables have turned, and now man is seeking God. 

Notice how they respond to Jesus. They ask, “Where do you live?” 

“Come,” He says, “and you will see.”

Exodus 23:5

People are entitled to receive help from others only if they do what they can to help themselves first. Thus, Exodus 23:5 rules that “When you see the donkey of your enemy lying under its burden and would refrain from raising it, you must nevertheless raise it with him.” The obvious implication of the words “with him” is that the animal’s owner must work with the passerby to help raise the animal. But, notes Rabbi Avrohom Feuer, “If the owner. . .refuses to do so because he expects the passerby to do it himself because it is a mitzvah, the passerby is excused...” (see Mishnah Bava Mezia 2:10). Basing himself on this Torah verse, Rabbi Ephraim of Luntshits (1550-1619) teaches that “we may derive an application of this idea to the poor among our people who impose themselves on the community by refusing to work though they are able. They cry that we do not supply them with their needs, but they are wrong. God did not command us to help them in those situations where they can help themselves.”

In short, poor people should not refuse gainful employment they are capable of performing. Only if someone makes the efforts to support himself and fails is the community and its members obliged to support him.

  Code of Jewish Ethics vol. 2, Rabbi Joseph Telushkin, pg. 244-245