Tag Archives: Light

The Incredible Midrash of the Death of Moses

‘The Death of Moses’ (Illustration from the Providence Lithograph Company)

On the holiday of Simchat Torah, we conclude the yearly cycle of Torah readings with the final portion, V’Zot HaBerakhah. This short parasha relays Moses’ final blessing to the people before ascending Mt. Nebo and returning to his Maker:

Moses was one hundred and twenty years old when he died. His eye had not dimmed, nor had he lost his vigour… And there was no other prophet who arose in Israel like Moses, whom Hashem knew face to face…

The Torah tells us that Moses was incomparable, and there was never a prophet like him. Indeed, in his 13 Principles of Faith, the Rambam has one principle (#6) stating that God communicates with man through prophecy, and a separate belief (#7) that Moses’ prophecy is the greatest of all. The Sages stated that while all the other prophets saw visions only through a blurry (or dim) lens, Moses saw visions through a perfectly clear lens. While all the other prophets only received visions while dreaming or entranced, Moses alone could communicate with God fully conscious and awake.

‘Moses Coming Down From Mt. Sinai’ by Gustav Doré, with rays of light shining forth from Moses’ face.

The Midrash (Devarim Rabbah 11:3) presents an intriguing passage where various Heavenly figures argue with Moses on who is the greatest. Adam comes first and says: “I am greater than you because I was created in the image of God.” Moses replied that although Adam was initially very great, his honour was taken away from him, whereas the Torah says that Moses had not “lost his vigour”. The Sages teach that Adam initially glowed with a pure light. This light was lost after the consumption of the Forbidden Fruit, leaving behind only frail skin. Moses reversed this: upon his return from the summit of Sinai, his skin glowed so brightly that he had to wear a mask (Exodus 34:35).

After Adam, came Noah and said: “I am greater than you because I was delivered from the generation of the Flood.” Moses replied: “I am far superior to you. You saved only yourself, but had no strength to deliver your generation, while I saved both myself and my generation when they were condemned to destruction at the time of the Golden Calf.”

Abraham arose next, and said: “I am greater than you because I used to give hospitality to all wayfarers.” Moses replied that while Abraham “fed uncircumcised men, I fed circumcised ones” and while Abraham “gave hospitality in an inhabited land, I fed them in the wilderness.”

Isaac argued he was greater than Moses because he was willing to die upon the altar, and witnessed the Divine Presence at that moment. Moses countered that he regularly spoke “face to face” with the Divine Presence, and his eyes had not dimmed from this, while Isaac had ultimately gone blind.

Finally, Jacob said: “I am greater than you because I wrestled with the angel and prevailed.” Moses replied: “You wrestled with the angel in your own territory [on Earth], but I went up to their territory, and they feared me.” The passage concludes by saying that this is what King Solomon hinted to when he wrote v’at alit al kulana, “…and you have excelled them all.” (Proverbs 31:29)

The Ascent of Moses

The Midrash continues to describe the moment of Moses’ passing. When the time came, God instructed the angel Gabriel to bring up Moses’ soul. Gabriel told God: “Master of the Universe! How can I witness the death of him who is equal to 600,000? How can I behave harshly to one who possesses such qualities?” So God told the angel Michael to bring Moses. Michael replied: “Master of the Universe! I was his teacher, and he my pupil, so I cannot witness his death.” God then had to summon the wicked Samael to bring up Moses’ soul. Samael took his sword and went gladly, for he had been waiting a very long time for that moment. However, when he approached Moses and saw the pure light shining from his face, he trembled and said: “Surely no angel can take away Moses’ soul!”

Samael tried to take Moses anyway, telling him that he should come willingly, for all mortals must die. Moses argued that he is unlike any other mortal, and proceeded to give a resume of his achievements. Convinced, Samael went back to Heaven. God insisted that Samael go back to bring Moses, and not take no for an answer. Samael returned sword in hand, and Moses drew his staff for battle. The Midrash says that Moses readily defeated Samael, blinded him, and “removed his beam of glory”.

At this point, a voice called forth from Heaven and said: “The time of your death has come.” Still, Moses would not relent, so God had to do the job Himself. As soon as He extracted Moses’ soul, the soul itself protested:

Master of the Universe! I know that You are the God of all spirits and all souls, the souls of the dead and the living are in Your keeping, and You have created and formed me and placed me within the body of Moses for a hundred and twenty years. And now, is there a body in the world purer than the body of Moses…? Therefore I love him and I do not desire to leave him.

The Soul continued to tarry until finally “God kissed Moses and took away his soul” with a Divine Kiss. It was then that the Divine Presence proclaimed: “And there was no other prophet who arose in Israel like Moses…”

When reading such Midrashic passages, it is important to remember the old adage that those who deny the validity of the Midrash are heretics, yet those who take the Midrash literally are fools. Although this Midrash probably shouldn’t be taken literally, it certainly captures the incomparable greatness of Moses.

Chag Sameach! 

‘Moses on Mount Sinai’ by Jean-Léon Gérôme (c.1900)

How to Receive God’s Blessing

This week’s parasha is Re’eh, which begins by stating:

Behold, I set before you today a blessing and a curse. The blessing, if you will heed the commandments of Hashem your God, which I command you today; and the curse, if you will not heed the commandments of Hashem your God…

God promises that a person who fulfils His mitzvot will be blessed, and one who does not will be cursed. The phrasing is interesting: we might assume it would be clearer to say a person who fulfills God’s mitzvot would be blessed, and one who sins or transgresses the mitzvot will be cursed. Instead, the Torah connects the observance of mitzvot with receiving blessing. What, exactly, is a blessing? And what does it have to do with a mitzvah?

Heaven Down to Earth

The Hebrew word for blessing, brakhah (ברכה), shares a root with two similar words. The first is brekhah (spelled the same way), which means a “pool” or source of water. The second is berekh (ברך), which means a “knee”. What do these seemingly unrelated things have to do with blessing?

Our Sages teach that a blessing is a source of abundance, like a well from which water can be drawn continuously, hence its relation to brekhah. Each blessing in Judaism begins with the words Barukh Atah Adonai, meaning not that we are blessing God (which is impossible), but that we recognize God is the infinite source of all blessing and abundance. The name of God used here is the Tetragrammaton, denoting God’s eternity and infinity, alluded to by the fact that the Name is essentially a conjunction of the verb “to be” in past (היה), present (הווה), and future (יהיה) tenses.

The blessing continues with the words Eloheinu Melekh haOlam. Now, the name of God switches to Elohim, referring to His powers as manifest in this world. Thus, he is described as Melekh haOlam, the “king of the universe”. That same ungraspable, ineffable God permeates every inch of the universe He created, controlling and sustaining the tiniest of details. And so, when we recite a blessing, we are stating that God is the ultimate source of all things, transforming the infinite into the finite, and showering us with constant abundance.

This is where the second related root of berakhah comes in—the knee. Rabbi Aryeh Kaplan explains that the purpose of the knee is to allow a person to bend down or descend. Thus, when one recites a blessing, they are causing God to “descend” into this world, so to speak, and bless us. When we are blessing, what we are really doing is receiving a blessing. This is alluded to by the very root letters of the word for blessing, beit (ב), reish (ר), and khaf (כ), whose corresponding numerical values are 2, 200, and 20, respectively. These doublets represents the two-way nature of a blessing.

Plugging in to the Source

Our holy texts affirm that God is constantly showering us with blessings. Yet, oftentimes it may seem like our lives are devoid of blessing. What’s going on? Imagine walking out into a torrential rain and trying to catch the water with your bare hands. No matter how much water is pouring over you, it is unlikely that you will succeed. Now imagine doing the same thing with a bucket in each hand.

The same is true for blessings. One needs the appropriate vessel to receive the abundance. In this case, the vessel is the person. To receive holy blessings, the vessel must be made holy. This is accomplished through the performance of mitzvot, which are designed to rectify and sanctify the person.

On a deeper level, the purpose of the mitzvot is to bind a Jew directly to God. In fact, it is taught that the root of mitzvah actually means “to bind”. God is the Infinite Source of all things, and if one wants to receive from the Infinite, they must only tap into It and form the right connection. Once such a connection is made, there is no end to how much blessing can be obtained.

This is why the parasha begins by telling us that a person who fulfils the mitzvot will be blessed, while a person who does not fulfil them will be “cursed”, devoid of all blessing. It is also why Jews going to receive a berakhah from a great tzaddik are often given a blessing only on the condition that they take upon themselves some kind of mitzvah. The same is true in prayer, during which it is customary to give tzedakah, tying our requests with the fulfilment of an important mitzvah.

Every mitzvah that is done opens up another channel of Heavenly Light, and each time it is repeated that channel is widened and reinforced. In fact, our Sages speak of precisely 620 channels of light shining down into this world, corresponding to the 613 mitzvot of the Torah, and the additional 7 mitzvot instituted by the rabbis (or the additional 7 Noahide laws).

As we enter the month of Elul and begin a forty day period of heightened repentance and prayer, we should be thinking about which mitzvahs we can take on, which we might improve upon, and how we can further sanctify ourselves in order to become the purest possible vessel of divinity. We mustn’t forget that the blessing is always shining down upon us; we must only be prepared to receive it.

Sukkot: Uniting Heaven and Earth

This week we celebrate the festival of Sukkot. This holiday is possibly the least-observed among Jews in modern times. After the “high holidays” of Rosh Hashanah and Yom Kippur, many go back to their regular routines and completely forget about Sukkot. In reality, Sukkot is considered a “high holiday”, too, and is inseparable from Rosh Hashanah and Yom Kippur. Most people are aware that one is judged and written into the Heavenly Books on Rosh Hashanah, and that the books are sealed on Yom Kippur, but few know that the books are reopened on Hoshana Rabbah, the last day of Sukkot (before the semi-independent holiday of Shemini Atzeret which immediately follows Sukkot).

The Arizal describes the great importance of Hoshana Rabbah, and the need to stay up all night learning Torah, and saying selichot after midnight. Some also blow the shofar on this day. Hoshana Rabbah literally means “the great salvation”, and many prayers associated with this day beseech God to finally send us Mashiach and bring about the last redemption. It is well known that if all of Israel repented properly and wholeheartedly, Mashiach would come immediately. This was what Mashiach himself told Rabbi Yehoshua ben Levi:

Rabbi Yehoshua ben Levi met Elijah [the Prophet] by the entrance of Rabbi Shimon bar Yochai’s tomb… and asked him:
“When will the Messiah come?”
[Elijah responded:] “Go and ask him yourself.”
“Where is he?”
“At the entrance [of Rome].”
“And how will I recognize him?”
“He is sitting among the poor lepers…”
… So he went to him and greeted him, saying, “Peace be upon you, Master and Teacher.” [Mashiach] replied: “Peace be upon you, O son of Levi,”
“When will you come Master?” he asked.
“Today!” was his answer.
On his returning to Elijah, the latter enquired, “What did he say to you?”
“Peace be upon you, O son of Levi,” he answered.
Thereupon [Elijah] observed, “He thereby assured you and your father of [a portion in] the World to Come!’
“He spoke falsely to me,” he replied, “stating that he would come today, but has not.”
[Elijah] answered him, “This is what he said to you: Today, if you will but hearken to his voice…” (Psalms 95:7)

Rabbi Yehoshua was excited when Mashiach assured him he would come on that very day. When the day passed, the rabbi was heartbroken, and thought Mashiach had lied to him. However, when later meeting Elijah again, the prophet told him that Mashiach was only quoting Psalms, that the redemption would come today if the Jewish people merited it. The fact that Mashiach has yet to come means the people are not yet worthy.

As such, each Yom Kippur that passes without Mashiach’s immediate arrival means that Israel has not repented completely. In fact, the final long blow of the shofar at the conclusion of Yom Kippur is likened to the shofar blow that will be heard when Mashiach arrives. We hope that God has fully accepted our prayers, and that this final shofar blow is the one to bring the redemption. If Yom Kippur passes without the redemption, we have one more chance on Hoshana Rabbah, when the Heavenly Books are reopened one last time. We show our devotion by staying up all night learning Torah, and we say selichot just once more in the hopes that it might tip the scales in our favour. We blow the shofar for the very last time, too, in one final attempt at bringing Heaven down to Earth. This union of Heaven and Earth is precisely what Mashiach’s coming – and the holiday of Sukkot – is all about.

David’s Fallen Sukkah

When God created this world, He intended for the spiritual and material realms to coexist, and for human beings to inhabit both dimensions simultaneously. This perfect state of reality was embodied by the Garden of Eden, where Adam and Eve were “bodies of light” and God’s presence was openly experienced. But Adam and Eve’s actions caused their bodies of light, ‘or (אור), to turn to skin, ‘or (עור) – two words that sounds exactly the same in Hebrew, and written the same save for one letter. Man was banished from the Garden and descended into a world where spirituality is concealed, and God’s presence is not so easy to recognize.

Mashiach’s coming is meant to re-bridge the gap between Heaven and Earth, restoring the world to a state of Eden. This is what we are meant to experience on Sukkot, when we leave the material confines of our homes and spend our time in simple outdoor huts, surrounded by God’s “clouds of glory”. The sukkah is a place to experience Heaven on Earth.

The Kabbalists tell us that this is the inner meaning of sukkah (סוכה), the numerical value of which is 91. This special number is the sum of God’s name (יהוה), the value of which is 26, and the way we pronounce the name, Adonai (אדני), the value of which is 65. In Heaven, where Godliness is openly revealed, God is known by His Ineffable Name (יהוה). On Earth, where Godliness is concealed, the Tetragrammaton cannot be pronounced, and we say “Adonai” (אדני) instead. The fusion of God’s heavenly title (26), and His earthly title (65) makes 91, the value of sukkah, for it is in the sukkah that we can experience the fusion of Heaven and Earth.

[Incidentally, 91 is also the numerical value of malakh (מלאך), “angel”, for what is an angel but an intermediary between Heaven and Earth, a being that can freely migrate between these two dimensions?]

Sukkot is therefore a brief taste of a forthcoming world ushered in by Mashiach; a hint of the Garden of Eden that will be re-established by the Son of David. This is the deeper meaning of the final prophetic verses of Amos:

On that day, I will raise up the sukkah of David that is fallen, and close up its breaches, and I will raise up his ruins, and I will build it as in the days of old… And I will turn the captivity of My people Israel, and they shall build the waste cities, and inhabit them; and they shall plant vineyards, and drink their wine; they shall also make gardens, and eat their fruit. And I will plant them upon their land, and they shall no more be plucked out of their land which I have given them, says Hashem, your God.

Chag sameach!

Sukkot decoration featuring the "Sukkah of Leviathan". Midrashic literature suggests that Mashiach will slay the great mythical dragon Leviathan and build a sukkah from its skin. The righteous will then be invited to partake in the "Feast of Leviathan" together with Mashiach. (Malkhut Vaxberger, www.mwaxb.co.il)

Sukkot decoration featuring the “Sukkah of Leviathan”. Midrashic literature suggests that Mashiach will slay the great mythical dragon Leviathan and build a sukkah from its skin. The righteous will then be invited to partake in the “Feast of Leviathan” together with Mashiach. (Malkhut Vaxberger, www.mwaxb.co.il)

Chanukah: Did the Jews Really Defeat the Greeks?

“No two cities have counted more with mankind than Athens and Jerusalem. Their messages in religion, philosophy and art have been the main guiding light in modern faith and culture. Personally, I have always been on the side of both…”

– Winston Churchill

Chanukah is perhaps the most famous of Jewish holidays. The nine-branched candelabrum, the chanukiah, is instantly recognized by people around the world. One reason for this is because of the halakhah of pirsumei nissah, literally “publicising the miracle”. Although just about every Jewish holiday revolves around some kind of miracle, it is particularly with regards to Chanukah that there is a special mitzvah to publicize its wonder. And so, one can find a glowing, public chanukiah on display in pretty much every major city on the planet.

Chanukah Around the World

The purpose of the chanukiah is well-known: after defeating the Greeks and recapturing Jerusalem, and its Holy Temple, the Jewish warriors led by the Maccabees discovered only one cruse of oil for the Temple menorah (this one with seven branches, as the Torah commands). Although the oil was meant to last only for one day, it miraculously burned for eight, the amount of time necessary to produce a fresh batch of olive oil.

Temple Menorah Replica by Jerusalem's Temple Institute

Temple Menorah Replica by Jerusalem’s Temple Institute

This is the story as recounted in the Talmud. However, the more ancient Book of Maccabees (which is part of the apocrypha, scriptural texts that did not make it into the official Biblical canon) provides a different reason for the eight-day festival. Here, we are told that since the Temple was still in the hands of the Greeks two months earlier, the Jewish nation was unable to celebrate the Torah festival of Sukkot. Of all the Torah-mandated holidays, Sukkot is most associated with the Temple, and was celebrated with many offerings on the altar, along with water libations, and eight days of revelry. Since the people were unable to commemorate Sukkot properly in the month of Tishrei, they decided to commemorate it in the month of Kislev instead, now that the Temple was back in Jewish hands. So, they kept an eight-day festival, with offerings, libations, and revelry, both in honour of the belated Sukkot, and to celebrate their victory over the Greeks.

A David and Goliath Story

Chanukah is a beautiful underdog narrative. The mighty Syrian-Greeks (better known as the Seleucids, to differentiate them from the mainland Greeks in Europe) are imposing their Hellenism upon the conquered and impoverished Jewish people, still struggling to rebuild after the decimation of the First Temple period. The Greek king, Antiochus, demands the sacrifice of a pig upon a Jewish altar, and the Jews refuse. Well, at least some of them do.

Bust of Antiochus IV Epiphanes, of Chanukah fame, at the Altes Museum in Berlin (Credit-Jniemenmaa)

Bust of Antiochus IV Epiphanes, of Chanukah fame, at the Altes Museum in Berlin (Credit: Jniemenmaa)

At the time, there were many Hellenized, assimilated Jews among the masses that were very much okay with a pig on the altar. (It seems that history repeats itself: the first graduation ceremony in 1883 of Hebrew Union College, a Reform seminary, consisted of frog legs, crabs, and shrimp, among other non-kosher foods, earning it the nickname, “the treif banquet”.) Matityahu the High Priest wouldn’t have any of it, and together with his five sons—soon to be known as the “Maccabees”—started a revolution.

More than anything else, this was a civil war between traditional Jews and the Hellenized ones. Of course, the Hellenized Jews had support from the Greek government, which soon brought in some 60,000 troops, together with war elephants, according to the Book of I Maccabees (4:28-29). The Maccabee forces managed to scramble 10,000 mostly-untrained, guerrilla warriors. Ultimately, the 10,000 overpower the professional Greek army. The Seleucid Empire would never be the same again, and less than a century later, would totally come to an end.

Spiritual vs. Physical

Today, the Chanukah story often carries the same message: the Greeks were materialistic, promiscuous, Godless people, while the Jews were moral, spiritual, and God-fearing. Chanukah, then, celebrates the triumph of righteousness over licentiousness, religion over secularism, spirituality over physicality.

While the above description of the Seleucid-Syrian-Greeks may be true, it presents a false image of the Greeks as a whole, and one that isn’t at all consistent with traditional Jewish holy texts, especially the Talmud. In truth, the great Jewish sages of the Talmud valued and respected the Greeks. They stated (Megillah 8b) that it is forbidden to translate the Torah into any language, except Greek, which the rabbis considered a rich and beautiful tongue. The rabbis also adopted the Greek style of democratic government, with elected officials sitting on the Sanhedrin, from the Greek root synedrion, meaning “sitting together”.

One of the earliest known synedrions was established by Alexander the Great, made up of representatives from across his vast empire to assist him in government. The Talmudic sages spoke highly of Alexander the Great. According to legend, Alexander saw a vision of the Jewish High Priest before coming to conquer Jerusalem. There are several versions of this story, but all agree that Alexander was grateful to the High Priest, and spared Israel from his destructive conquests (as well as from paying tribute, according to some sources). In turn, the rabbis adopted “Alexander” as an honorary Jewish name. Indeed, one of the sages of the Talmud is Rabbi Alexandri, and many other rabbis have Greek names, such as Hyrcanus, Teradion, Antigonus, Dosa, Papa, Symmachus, and Tarfon.

These rabbis gathered in various learning academies across Israel and Persia (producing the Jerusalem and Babylonian Talmuds, respectively). Their academies were very similar to the Greek academy. In fact, the successors of a Greek academy spoke very much like the rabbis of the Talmud, quoting teachings from previous generations and debating them, while citing an uninterrupted chain of tradition all the way back to Plato, much the same way that rabbis cite an uninterrupted tradition back to Moses. Many of their modes of reasoning and dialectics were the same, too, even lesser-used forms such as gematria, another Greek word adopted by Judaism. The Greeks had also used their alphabet for numerology (an art that they called isopsephy).

Greek traditions appear to have even found their way into Jewish holidays. In ancient Greece, families would get together for symposia, parties in which they would recount the history of Greece and its great victories. According to the Greek philosophers, it was best to drink three cups of wine at a symposium, while drinking five cups was considered excessive and inappropriate. Thus, most people drank four cups. They would lie on couches, specifically on their left side. Recounting history while drinking four cups of wine and lying on one’s left—sound familiar? Let’s not forget that afikoman is itself a Greek word (epikomon, literally “that which comes after” or “that which comes last”, referring to either dessert or the concluding festive songs).

While the ancient Greeks certainly held onto a number of abhorrent beliefs and practices, to suggest that all the Greeks were atheistic, unjust, or not spiritual is certainly untrue. Socrates was killed for criticizing Athenian injustice, Plato preached how illusory this physical world is, and Aristotle described metaphysics and theology as the “first philosophy” and most important of subjects. One of the earliest known preachers of reincarnation was Pythagoras, who also wrote of three souls, much like the Jewish conception of nefesh, ruach, and neshamah. Nor is it a secret that some of the angels mentioned in the Talmud bear Greek titles, among them Sandalfon and Metatron.

So, did the Jews really defeat the Greeks? We certainly defeated the immoral and oppressive Seleucid Greeks in battle, but definitely not the Greek spirit as a whole. In fact, some might argue that Judaism is the best preservation of ancient Greek culture in the modern world! Whereas the rest of society has moved on to other methods of education, we still have a yeshiva system like the ancient Academy. While others celebrate their holidays with gifts and formal dinners, we gather in symposia, reliving the words of our sages, who openly bore their Greek names. And of course, while most of society is primarily concerned with what’s happening on television, we’re still trying to be philosophers, debating the finest points of reality.

The Greeks had a profound impact on all of civilization, and Judaism was not immune from it. Perhaps this is why, over time, the holiday became less about defeating Greeks and more about the miracle of light. Chanukah is a holiday celebrating Jewish resilience, and symbolizing the power of light over darkness, and hope over despair. It is a lesson in resisting assimilation and being true to ourselves; in standing up for what’s right and upholding our customs; and most importantly, in the longest, blackest nights of winter, Chanukah teaches us that although the world may be full of evil, one tiny flame can break through all the darkness.

How Did Adam Live 930 Years?

This week’s parasha is Vayelech, which begins with Moses’ statement that “Today I am one hundred and twenty years old” (Deut. 31:2). It was the 7th of Adar, Moses’ birthday, and also his day of passing. Moses goes on to conclude his final speech to the people, then sings a deeply prophetic farewell song in next week’s portion Ha’azinu, followed by his blessings to the people in the last parasha of the Torah, V’Zot HaBracha.

Moses was the greatest of all prophets, the humblest man to walk the earth, and the central founding figure of Judaism. He was blessed with living a full and healthy life spanning exactly 120 years. It has become common today for people to wish each other 120 years of life. Why is this the specific figure? Can humans not live longer? Don’t we see in Genesis that Adam lived 930 years, Noah lived 950 years, and Methuselah (Metushelach) lived a record 969 years? What happened?

The Flood Generation

Ten generations from Adam, the world had descended into endless sin and immorality. God decreed that man’s days “will be numbered at one hundred and twenty” (Genesis 6:3). Many believe this to mean that God decreed humans will no longer be able to live past 120 years. Indeed, when looking at modern records of longevity, the vast majority of the world’s oldest people die close to 120 years. There has only been one official case of anyone exceeding 120, a Frenchwoman named Jeanne Calment who lived 122 years.

However, the traditional Jewish interpretation is that the Genesis verse above does not mean man is unable to live past 120. After all, our forefathers Abraham, Isaac, and Jacob lived long after this decree, and they lived 175, 180, and 147 years, respectively. Rather, the Jewish Sages state that God decreed the arrival of the Great Flood 120 years hence. God gave mankind 120 years to repent, and possibly avert the Flood. Noah was commissioned to go around and inspire people to mend their ways, and he had 120 years to do it.

Unfortunately, Noah failed in this endeavour, unable to bring even a single person to righteousness (as the Ark only carried his own family at the end). This is one reason for why the Flood is known in Hebrew as mabul Noach, literally “Noah’s Flood” (or mei Noach, “Noah’s waters”), as if he was partially responsible for not doing enough to inspire people to change. Because of this, many (including Rashi) have commented on the verse “Noah was a righteous and pure man in his generation” (Genesis 6:9) to mean that Noah was only righteous in his faulty generation. Had he lived in another generation, such as that of Abraham, he would not have been deemed so righteous!

We see from the Biblical chronology that after the Flood, people’s life spans steadily shorten. Moses’ older siblings Aaron and Miriam lived 123 and 126 years. Moses died at 120, and this appears to have become the new limit. After Moses, there are only a few people noted to have lived longer, one of which is Yehoyada the High Priest, who lived 130 years (II Chronicles 24:16).

What accounts for this steady degeneration in longevity?

Yeridat HaDorot

The Talmud (Shabbat 112b) states: “If the earlier [scholars] were sons of angels, we are sons of men; and if the earlier [scholars] were sons of men, we are like asses…” This is one of many passages that attests to the well-known concept of yeridat hadorot, “the descent of the generations”. It is said that each passing generation falls lower and lower in its wisdom and spiritual greatness. This concept can solve the puzzle of longevity.

The body is a finite lump of matter. It is only animated and vitalized by the infinite soul within it. Thus, the greater the soul, the longer the body can live. As the spiritual potential in each generation falls, so too does the lifespan.

Moreover, it is taught that Adam contained essentially all of the souls of humanity within him (Sha’ar HaGilgulim, ch. 11). As more and more people were born over the centuries, this single universal soul broke down further and further into smaller and smaller fragments. With the exception of a number of “new souls”, the vast majority of the world’s 7 billion people are all parts of the soul of Adam. It is therefore not surprising that today’s spiritual capabilities (and with that, the lifespans) are severely limited.

At the Speed of Light

Science may offer another intriguing possibility. According to modern physics, time as we know it doesn’t really exist. The universe is one interwoven fabric of both time and space. The faster one moves through space, the slower the effects of time for that person. There is actually a formula to measure the impact of this time dilation, known as the Lorentz transformation. It is given by the equation ΔT = t√1-v2/c2, where v is one’s speed and c is the speed of light.

Theoretically, the speed of light is the absolute maximum in our universe. At light speed (just under 3.00 x 108 m/s, or 300,000 km/s), time will totally stop for the traveller (if plugging it into the formula, one gets a value of zero). This seems impossible. However, if we plug in a value very close to light speed, such as 2.99 x 108 m/s, we get a very interesting result.* A person who has perceived living 80 years will have actually lived 980 earthly years! That makes Adam’s 930 years a more palatable 76, and Methuselah’s record 969 as 79. This fits in well with the verse in Psalms that a normal lifespan is 70 to 80 years (Psalms 90:10). But how could Adam and Methuselah have lived at near-light speed?

Beautifully, the Sages teach us that Adam was not a human like us. In many texts (such as Bereshit Rabbah 20:12), Adam is described not simply as a being of flesh, but rather as a being of light. Though most will interpret this metaphorically, there are those sages, such as the Arizal (for example, in Sefer HaLikutim, Bereshit, ch. 3) that interpret this quite literally. It remains to be seen what this means exactly, and if it has anything at all to do with physics, but perhaps there is much more to the idea of Adam being a man of light than we can imagine.

Adam and Eve - Beings of Light, as portrayed in the film Noah (2014)

Adam and Eve – Beings of Light, as portrayed in the film ‘Noah’ (2014)

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*To be fair, choosing a value such as 2.99 x 108 m/s may be deemed quite arbitrary. One can also plug in finer values even closer to the speed of light, such as 2.997 or 2.9972, and so on, each of which would give a more refined result. The point of this exercise is simply to illustrate the relativity of time, and what might explain the difference in perceived years between our generations and those of the first people, through a scientific perspective.