Even God created worlds and destroyed them

Every Jewish holiday has a unique character to it. Each year, on that specific day, we are invited to step across the threshold, intellectually, and spiritually, and enter into that distinct domain. Rosh Hashanah, traditionally thought of as the day that commemorates the creation of the world, is more precisely regarded as the day the world is conceived.

This idea is beautifully captured in the famous piyut that we say during the Musaf service on Rosh Hashanah, following the shofar blasts: “Hayom harat olam” — “Today is the day of the conception of the world.” But what does it mean to say that the world is conceived on this day?

The Hasidic master of the Ishbitz-Radzyn dynasty, R. Gershon Hanoch Henich Leiner (1839–1890), offers a new perspective on this ancient theme. He draws a parallel between the creation of the world and the creation of oneself.

Every year, on this very day, there is a reawakening of the statement, “Let there be light…” And in comparison to this year, the past year is akin to the destroyed worlds that existed before this world was created. As the midrash teaches, “The Holy One Blessed be He built worlds and destroyed them, until He created this world and said, ‘This one pleases me; those did not please me.’ ” (Bereishit Rabbah 3:7) …Therefore, each year [on Rosh Hashanah], when there is a stirring of the words ‘Let there be light’….’ …creation becomes strengthened…’ (Sod Yesharim al haTorah, Rosh Hashanah, Day 1, 5649, s.v. ‘v’Hashem paqad et Sarah)

Every Rosh Hashanah, says R. Gershon Hanoch Henich, there is a rekindling of the primordial light. The person whose soul is attuned to the rhythm of the cycle of Jewish holidays can experience an inner stirring, a reawakening of “light,” where it is possible to attain a previously unknown level of awareness as if some blockage is suddenly removed or falls away. And so, consciousness — a new conception — can be renewed on this day each year.

Rather than talking about an event that took place long ago in “history,” the notion of the “conception of the world” is meant to be understood as something that is happening right now in our lives. Time, in this view, is not linear; creation is not just something that happened in the past, but a dynamic cycle unfolding in the world.

In a different drashah (homily), R. Gershon Hanoch Henich’s father, R. Ya’akov, suggests that the story of creation recorded in the Book of Genesis “takes place within every human being” (Beit Ya’akov, Bereishit 7). This dynamic cycle unfolds within each human soul. Just as in the creation of the world, we too begin in chaos, in confusion and uncertainty — in tohu, the Torah’s term — with our shortcomings and flaws, until we are stirred to make something of our lives, of ourselves.

Creation and renewal seem to imply starting over completely – leaving behind the old and beginning anew. But our lives are full of memories, ingrained habits and experiences. How are we to start over again? How does the new year’s “new light” relate to our failures, disappointments, and unfilled hopes — that tohu to which R. Ya’akov referred?

The midrash cited above by R. Gershon Hanoch Henich teaches, “The Holy One Blessed be He built worlds and destroyed them, until He created this world and said, ‘This one pleases Me…’”

The sages’ descriptions of the destruction and creation of the world needs to be understood as something that happens within ourselves. We too have destroyed worlds within us — those missed opportunities, errors, and outright transgressions that weigh heavily on us, as we enter into the New Year.

We could choose to relate to them simplistically and say, “Just put your past behind you.”
In fact, that may be tempting. But repression is never a real solution; it doesn’t work, and it casts a shadow over a person.

There can be no rebuilding without the space to reflect, to regret, and cry out from the depths of our being.

Perhaps what we can learn from these drashot from these rabbis is to harness our failings. The pain and distress of what we have not done or what we did wrong — all of our “destroyed worlds” — provoke undeniable feelings that can cause us to cry out to God.

This plea, emerging from deep within, becomes the new energy that enables us to overcome our failings. Our negative aspects are redeemed. Rosh Hashanah, the day that we stand before the Creator, calls us to this awareness: “Today the world was conceived.” Conception here is an instance where light emerges out of darkness, order out of chaos, meaning out of confusion, as we rebuild our lives.

This year’s reality brings these teachings into even sharper focus. We have endured a terribly chaotic year on the national and personal level. Unfortunately, the term, “destroyed worlds” has taken on a new, painful level of meaning.

This year it will not be easy for us to embrace the New Year; we are going to have to work hard to attune ourselves to the “emerging light,” the Yehi or — “Let there be light.” But if there is one thing I have learned over this past year, it is just what remarkably resilient people we are. We experience daily how our nation, from those who are suffering enormous loss to those who help them, and everyone else too, continues to find light in the darkest of places.

As we hear the shofar blasts this year, I hope and pray that we will be out of this war, that the hostages will have returned safely, and that all our wounded will be healed. And I have faith that when we say “Hayom harat olam,” “Today, the world is conceived,” we will also feel the stirring of the “emerging light” (Yehi or) coming forth from those previously destroyed worlds, and the light that was hidden until now bringing about a new birth.