Parashat Bereshit begins with darkness. The Torah’s opening words describe the earth as tohu va’vohu—formless and void—with darkness covering everything. It is a haunting image of chaos and confusion. But then, suddenly, we hear the first act of divine speech: “Vayomer Elohim, yehi or – And God said, ‘Let there be light.’”
That moment is more than a scientific or historical event—it is a spiritual archetype. The light of Bereshit is not just physical illumination; it represents clarity, hope, meaning, and emerging from despair. Creation is God’s answer to chaos: a deliberate, loving act of bringing order and goodness into a void.
Each day of creation follows a pattern: “God spoke,” “it was so,” “God saw that it was good.” This order contrasts sharply with the randomness that came before. The Torah could have begun with the laws of Shabbat or with the story of Abraham, but it starts here—to teach that faith begins when we look at a chaotic world and still believe it can be ordered, redeemed, and filled with light.
Rabbi Lord Jonathan Sacks wrote that Bereshit teaches us to be creators—to bring justice where there is oppression, peace where there is conflict, and love where there is hatred. Each mitzvah and each act of human goodness continues God’s creative work.
Creation is not a one-time event. According to Jewish thought, ma’aseh bereisheet—the act of creation—continues every day, renewed in each breath of life. The world constantly returns to its beginning: from exile to home, from darkness to light.
This week, as the long-awaited hostages returned home, we witnessed such renewal in real time. Their return is a powerful act of human and divine creativity—a breaking of darkness, a reclaiming of life. Families waiting in anguish are now beginning to live again. Their reunion is a modern echo of that first light—when God said yehi or and the world changed forever.
In Parashat Bereshit, every element of existence is called “good”—except the very state of aloneness: “Lo tov l’heyot ha’adam levado – it is not good for the human to be alone.” Creation was not complete until relationships—between people, between God and creation—were restored. The hostages’ return reminds us of that same truth: that life itself is sacred, but connection makes it whole.
When communities gather to welcome those who were taken, when prayers of thanksgiving rise, when people embrace across political or ideological divides—that, too, is creation. That is Bereshit unfolding again.
The Torah’s opening teaches that even out of destruction, new beginnings are possible. The light of creation does not erase the darkness—it transforms it. So, too, Israel’s story now moves from chaos toward renewal. Families rebuild, a nation heals, and through compassion and faith, the human spirit continues the divine work of creation.
Every day, God whispers again: “Let there be light.” And every time we answer with acts of love, courage, and hope—especially in moments like these—we make the world anew.
