Torah Speaks in the Language of Man

Parashat Bereishith (Gen. 1:1–6:8) opens with the power, fire, and majesty of creation formed from elements that we, with our limited senses, perceive as emerging from nothing. In the unveiling of this sacred process that gave us our home, we encounter language drenched in metaphor — more so, it seems, than in any other portion of the Torah — yet within it lie some of the most sublimely simple lessons for humanity, made in God’s image. Like Him, we are to build our world.



Many precepts are distilled in this narrative, including the necessity of order (peace), making a plan, and tapping into available wisdom. However, all of the profound lessons embedded in the Creation narrative are beyond the scope of this article.

Events take a turn when the first man and woman veer dangerously off the path. Even so, the Yalkut Shimoni teaches that we should avoid witnessing the degradation of others — another teaching from HaShem when He “walked in the garden in the cool of the day.”



Knowing their shame, HaShem approached Adam and Eve gently, giving them time to cover themselves before He spoke. God’s first words to them were an inquiry that should have inspired the regret required for teshuvah.

Perhaps this is a glimpse of the roots of Yom Kippur: God drawing near, yet allowing us space to awaken and return. Just as “the King is in the field” before the Day of Atonement, so too in Eden the Creator gave His children time to admit their error and trust that He would cover their shame. But they offered only excuses.



Still, a larger lesson looms. From the very beginning, the pattern of forgiveness and renewal was already woven into creation itself.



Adam and Eve were expelled from Gan Eden but the seeds of coming destruction were embedded within their sons, Cain and Abel. They quarreled, resulting in the death of the Abel. In this account we see proof of a principle found in Exodus 34:6-7:

"God compassionate and gracious, slow to anger, abounding in kindness and faithfulness, extending kindness to the thousandth generation, forgiving iniquity, transgression, and sin—yet not remitting all punishment, but visiting the iniquity of parents upon children and children’s children, upon the third and fourth generations.”

These words, spoken by HaShem to Moses, after the Sin of Golden Calf, reinforce the Creator's overwhelming kindness. It is a principle that explains why we are compelled to act righteously or the opposite. When we choose to do good, we impact our children in a very positive way, yet that very same internal mechanism can lead our children to act negatively. For example, an abusive father passes on that behavior to his children. Free Will is still a mitigating factor but the child of abuse, alcoholism and associated ills is so deeply affected they are challenged more so than a child brought up in a loving environment.

By the time we come to the end of this parashah, humanity has descended into depravity and violence on a truly global scale. Destruction was inevitable:



“God saw that the evil of man was great upon the earth, and that every impulse of the thoughts of his heart was only evil all day. And God regretted that He had made man on the earth, and He was pained in His heart.” — Genesis 6:5–6



Here we are confronted with a grand paradox when viewed through the lens of Rambam’s Thirteen Principles of Faith (Mishneh Torah, Sanhedrin 10), how can we ascribe human feelings and emotion to God?



The very fact that we cannot comfortably resolve this conundrum is itself a lesson.

 We can only begin to comprehend this concept by remembering that, first and foremost, the Torah is instruction. As the Rambam teaches, “The Torah speaks in the language of man.”

Telling us that God “regretted and was pained in His heart” makes it clear that if we are to reflect the image of God, we must not stand idly by while the world descends into chaos. We should experience regret and pain — but also take action.



The eventual decree against humanity demonstrates both the depravity people are capable of and the long-suffering of our Creator. Rav Yehoshua ben Korchah was once asked: If God knows the future, why would He grieve for mankind?

Any parent could answer this. Your children bring you joy, yet they can also be a source of grief — for you know that someday they will die.



The coming destruction was necessary. Robbery, murder, and corruption had become so pervasive that even the animals were affected. As Rashi explains, everything was created for the sake of man. If man was to be erased from the planet, what need was there for anything else? However, Parashat Bereishith concludes with a ray of hope:



“But Noah found grace in the eyes of God.” — Genesis 6:8