Boom!
Or if you prefer — Bang!
In the beginning God creates the heavens — the universe — something very, very, very big. And the earth — something very, very, very small in relationship to the universe.
Thus, immediately establishing that this world is something very, very, very special.
Still, at these first moments, it’s a whole lot of tovu va vohu. A formless mass.
Chaos.
So, God quickly starts whipping things into order.
On Day one: He separates light and darkness.
Day two: He separates the water that encircles the earth into two parts: ocean water and atmospheric water.
Day three: Dry land and oceans.
Day four: He adds the sun and the moon.
Day five: Life appears. The sea animals and birds.
Day six: Land animals. And, finally, a unique creature called Adam.
God seems to be enjoying Himself. We know this because after each new day’s list of creations, He’s so satisfied with His handiwork that He pronounces it good.
He’s especially pleased about the creation of man, a being that He fashions in His own image. His labors completed, on day seven He takes a siesta.
For this man, Adam, God creates a paradise, the Garden of Eden.
In exchange for light yard work, Adam is given the run of the place. He can go anywhere and eat any of the many delicious fruits the garden has to offer.
The only exception is the fruit from the tree of the knowledge of good and evil. If he eats that fruit, God tells him, he will die.
Despite all these perks – San Diego weather, fresh mango, washboard abs – Adam isn’t happy. His problem is the oldest one in human history – he’s lonely. So, God parades all the creatures he has made before Adam.
The first man names them all, but none fill the terrible void in his heart.
“Look, God,” Adam might have said, “I really like lions and tigers and I have soft spot for parakeets. But they just don’t do it for me. What can I tell you?”
Undeterred, God comes up with a new plan. He’ll create another being from Adam’s own flesh, specifically from his rib. This being, very much like, yet very different from Adam, is called Eve.
It’s love at first sight. She’s got it all. That includes a mind of her own.
And that mind is a very curious one. She meets up with a clever serpent who tells her that the reason God doesn’t want her and Adam eating from the tree of knowledge is not because they’ll die, but because once they eat the fruit, they’ll know the difference between good and evil — and that will make them like divine beings.
Like God himself.
Sounds tempting.
Eve grabs a piece of fruit from the tree – the Torah doesn’t say apple, but that’s as good a guess as any – and takes a bite. She gives some to Adam, and he does the same.
Suddenly, husband and wife realize they’re naked, something they hadn’t even thought about before. They piece together some fig leaves and cover themselves up in shame.
At this moment, God enters the Garden. They hear him and hide.
God asks Adam where he is, and Adam replies that he’s hiding because he’s naked. “Who told you, you were naked?” God asks. “Did you eat from the tree from which I had forbidden you to eat?”
Adam points to his wife. “She made me do it.” Eve points to the serpent.
God doesn’t buy their feeble excuses. He knows what they’ve done — exactly what He said not to do.
Punishment ensues.
The serpent will become a hated creature who will crawl over the earth; the woman will experience the terrible pain of childbirth, and the man will have to till the hard soil.
Furthermore, He kicks them out of the Garden. He’s not going to take any chances with the Tree of Life.
Exiled from paradise, the couple have a son, Cain, and then, a second son, Abel.
Thus, the world’s first couple create the world’s first dysfunctional family. Abel grows up to be a shepherd, and Cain, a farmer. Abel offers God a sacrifice of sheep; Cain, a sacrifice of grain.
God likes Abel’s sacrifice better. Makes sense to me. Who doesn’t prefer a lamb chop over granola?
God takes note of Cain’s sour mood. He speaks to the farmer and offers him some advice, the first piece of advice in the Bible and as relevant today as it was then.
Why are you distressed?
And why is your face fallen?
Surely, if you do right
There is uplift.
But if you do not do right,
Sin crouches at the door.
Its urge is toward you,
Yet you can be its master.
Wise counsel, indeed. And proof positive that a loving God only wants the best for His creation and has granted us free will.
But Cain’s anger only builds. Rather than controlling himself, he loses control. He lures Abel into a trap and murders him.
Let’s pause to consider this for a moment. Who is Cain really angry at? Who has enraged him? Is it Abel? Or is it God whose approval he so desperately wanted? He can’t kill God, so he commits the evil act he can do — he kills Abel. He strikes at God by slaying his sibling. It’s futile, self-destructive, and all too human.
God, in a moment very similar to the one He had with Cain’s father, asks Cain where his brother is. In the famous phrase – virtually every line in this parsha is famous – Cain responds: “Am I my brother’s keeper?”
Of course, God knows what has happened to Abel just as He knew why Adam felt shame at being naked.
As Adam and Eve were punished, so is Cain. He must wander the earth, rootless and friendless, until he finally settles in the land of Nod, East of Eden.
There he starts a family of his own. If we take the Torah numbers literally his descendants live fantastically long lives, the record holder being Methuselah who makes it to 969.
God decides this is a little silly and puts the limit on human life at 120.
Many generations follow, each worse than the one before. We know this because by the time the Torah introduces us to the last generation, God has grown thoroughly disgusted with the human race — all its actions running — not walking — toward evil.
His creation experiment has gone full Frankenstein. Or as the Torah puts it in its understated way “The Lord regretted that He made man on earth and His heart was saddened.”
Rather than continue the experiment, God decides to scrap it — why throw good clay after bad?
But then, He comes across a man He likes.
His name is Noah.
And that’s a brief summary of Torah portion B’ray’sheet.
Allen Estrin is the Executive Director and Co-Founder of PragerU.
