‘Flame at the Edge of Creation’ Bereishit 5786
We begin with a question that jumps straight out of the text. The Torah [Bereishit 2:2] tells us: “And G-d completed on the seventh day His work which He had made…” Wait a minute – didn’t G-d finish creating on the sixth day? Is that not the entire point of Shabbat – that it is a day of rest, not of creation? How can the Torah assert that G-d completed His work on the seventh day?
Our Sages catch this too. The Seforno[1] takes a mathematical approach, suggesting that G-d performed His last act of creation at the last instant of the sixth day such that by the onset of the seventh day, His work could be considered complete. Rashi[2] takes a more philosophical approach. Rashi quotes Rabbi Shimon, who explains that at the end of the sixth day, the world was missing one final element: Rest. G-d created rest by ceasing to create. This is a paradox but an intentional one. The act of not acting is, in this case, itself a form of creation and this occurred on the seventh day. Shabbat is not a void – it is a positive presence, the creation of stillness[3].
Now we run into a second problem. The Talmud in Tractate Pesachim [54a] teaches that fire was first created – or rather, discovered – on the first Saturday night. G-d gave Adam the idea to strike two stones together and a resulting spark started the first fire. That moment is so pivotal that we reenact it each and every Saturday night. Immediately after Shabbat, as part of the Havdalah ceremony, we light a flame and make the blessing: “Blessed is He Who creates the lights of fire.” This leads us to a contradiction: If creation ended on Shabbat, why is fire, a fundamental element of civilization, only created after Shabbat? Does this not mean G-d’s creation was not really finished? To answer this question, we must take a step back and understand what fire actually is. Fire is not a “thing”. It is a process, the visible output of a chemical reaction known as combustion. Here is how it works: You begin with fuel: wood, gas, oil, whatever. The fuel stores potential energy. Then you add heat: a match, friction, or a spark. The fuel reacts with oxygen from the air. Chemical bonds in the fuel break, new ones form, and energy is released as heat (infrared radiation), light (photons from excited atoms), and other byproducts (such as carbon dioxide and water vapor). Such when you see a flame, you are not looking at matter. Rather, you are looking at energy being released. You are watching transformation happen in real time.
This is the key: Fire is about taking something that is hidden and making it visible. And this is precisely what Adam does after Shabbat. He does not create fire out of nowhere. He discovers how to unlock potential that was already there. When Adam strikes those stones and makes fire, he crosses a line. He is no longer just a recipient of creation – he becomes a partner in it. There is a misconception that all work is forbidden on Shabbat. Carrying a large couch up three flights of stairs on Shabbat is permitted without reservation. What is forbidden is not work, per se, but any action that demonstrates human mastery over nature. Unlocking potential using fire is an example par excellence of this mastery.
This partnership is an immense responsibility. And so the Torah builds a fence around it and the first thing it does is draw a hard line. The Torah [Shemot 35:3] says: “Do not kindle fire in any of your dwelling places on the Sabbath day.” Out of all thirty-nine prohibited actions on Shabbat (Melachot), only lighting fire is mentioned explicitly. What is so special about fire? Fire is melacha in its purest form. It is the ultimate act of human control over the natural world. We cook with it. We build with it. With fire, we can melt metal, bake bread, smelt ore, and make light. Fire is the interface between nature and human will. So when the Torah bans fire on Shabbat, it is not just banning one activity. It is making a statement: “This day is not about what you can do. It is about what you can let be.” Shabbat is a day when we say: “Yes, I can set the world on fire. But today, I will not”.
Now let us zoom forward to Saturday night. What is the first thing we do after Shabbat is over? We light a flame, but not without a blessing: “Blessed is He Who creates the lights of fire.” Why? Because fire is the first human action after Shabbat. It is the return of creative power, but only after we have spent a day letting go of it. We do not simply strike a match – we acknowledge where that energy came from. We accept that this power is not inherently ours. Shabbat holds it back. Havdalah releases it, but only with a blessing acknowledging its true Creator.
Here is the hard truth about fire: To paraphrase Ben Shapiro, “Fire doesn’t care about your feelings”. It doesn’t care what you do with it. It can cook a meal or it can burn down a forest. It can elevate a sacrifice or it can consume a home in flames. Nuclear fission – fire on steroids – can power a city or it can be fashioned into a bomb that can destroy that city. We light the Chanukah menorah but we also burn the Rebellious City (Ir HaNidachat). At the burning bush, the fire burns but doesn’t consume but at the Revelation at Sinai, the entire mountain is engulfed in flame. So when the Torah bans fire on Shabbat, it is not just about combustion. It is about control. About power. And about knowing when to let that power go.
Now we return to the verse in Bereishit: “G-d completed His work on the seventh day.” How did He do this? Not by doing, but by stopping. The Esoteric Torah (Kabbalah) refers to this as “tzimtzum” – Divine Contraction. G-d makes space. He steps back. He creates a world that is not just His playground – it is ours as well. But He gives us one crucial tool to keep that power in check: Shabbat. One day a week, we do not transform the world. We simply live in it. We accept it. We recognize that the world is not ours to consume endlessly. And when Shabbat ends, G-d hands the world back.
With fire.
There is a reason no other species lights fires. Only humans do. Because fire represents something uniquely human. It represents conscious transformation. Free will. Intellect. Creativity. But those gifts come with a cost. If you do not learn how to limit them, they will consume you. This is why Shabbat exists. It is the weekly reset button. A rhythmic spiritual firewall that beats in a seven-day cycle: From Creation to Cessation to Creation. From Light to Darkness back to light.
And fire is the boundary line.
If we have already entered the realm of the Esoteric Torah, let us take another step. Lurianic[4] Kabbalah teaches that the world is full of “nitzotzot” – Divine Sparks trapped in physicality, waiting to be released. This is exactly what fire does: it reveals what is hidden.
And when we use that fire – through science, through work, through art, through building – we are gathering those sparks. Not just fixing the world, but elevating it. When we light the Havdalah flame, we announce: “The fire is back in our hands. We will use it to build, not destroy. We will create but we will also rest. And we will never forget Who gave us that flame in the first place.”
Ari Sacher, Moreshet, 5786
Please daven for a Refu’a Shelema for Iris bat Chana, Shlomo ben Esther, Sheindel Devora bat Rina, Esther Sharon bat Chana Raizel, Esther bat Hila, Meir ben Drora, and Hodayah Emunah bat Shoshana Rachel.
[1] Ovadia ben Jacob Seforno, known as “The Seforno”, lived in Italy at the turn of the 16th century.
[2] Rabbi Shlomo Yitzchaki, known by his acronym “Rashi,” was the most eminent of the medieval commentators. He lived in northern France in the 11th century.
[3] The song “Freewill” by Rush contains the following words: “If you choose not to decide, you have still made a choice.” This concept is quite similar to the topic at hand.
[4] Rabbi Isaac ben Solomon Luria Ashkenazi, commonly known as Ha’ari, Ha’ari Hakadosh or the Arizal, lived in Safed in the 16th century. He is the father of contemporary Kabbalah.
