The Soul of Man was created a unique being in all the universe—in the image of the Creator—both celestial and terrestrial. This made Adam a partner in the process of the physical world’s creation, but it also instilled within him the desire to KNOW the Creator. The very breath of the Creator that brought him to life also tethered his heart to the Heavens through the upper levels of his own Soul. In the Garden of Eden, Adam walked and talked with God, communing with Him as part of his daily life. The most heartbreaking part of the expulsion from the Garden was the distance from this previous closeness. When God uttered the words: “Adam, where are you?” the idea of “loneliness” was birthed into the human heart—and thus into the consciousness of Creation itself, a sadness of isolation to be experienced by other creatures, as well. From that point onward, deep in the Soul of all children of Adam was the yearning to find the way back to God—truly knowing Him as Adam was created to do. And the alleviation of loneliness would be another aspect of repairing the world–tikkun olam.
Although the plain text of the Torah does not explicitly state this, it is clear that bringing offerings to God was a ritual that Adam instituted, at the instruction of God Himself. When Cain and Abel brought their offerings, they were not practicing something new. This was something they had seen their father perform, as worship of the Creator. When Noah left the Ark, he also performed sacrifices in a way passed down by his fathers. In Hebrew, the word for sacrifice, korban, is derived from the word kerov, meaning “close.” In Mankind’s new state of distance from the divine, rituals of worship were means of bringing the Soul closer. The conscious Soul understood the inherent desire to come closer, to work her way back to union with the One. After Noah’s sacrifice “Hashem smelled the pleasing aroma, and Hashem said in His Heart: I will not continue to curse again the ground because of man….”[1] What was the “pleasing aroma” that Hashem smelled? The sacrifice of Noah was called an aliyah (elevation) offering. Just in that name is implied that the Soul of Man—Noah and his family—rose up through the korban, and Hashem “smelled the pleasing fragrance.”
From the beginning there was a desire within the Adamic Soul to KNOW God. This desire was what the serpent used to deceive Eve—and Adam. They desired the promise of the fruit’s power to give them the understanding (of one thing from another) to aid them in their service in Creation. Unfortunately, what they did not realize was they could not break Hashem’s law for the “greater good,” or as it has been known in so many cults throughout the ages: ”sinning for the sake of Heaven.” With the eating of the forbidden fruit, religion of Man was born.
Years after the death of Abel, Eve gave birth to Seth, and his son was named Enosh. In the days of Enosh “to call in the Name of Hashem became profaned.”[2] “Profaned” literally indicates making common or ordinary something holy—and what is holier than the Name of Hashem? From this verse, it is taught that this was the beginning of idolatry in the world. This was clearly the next step into the practice of idolatry—bringing the divine closer to Man, rather than elevating Man to Hashem. This practice began with the concept of adoration of the bodies of the heavens—the sun, the moon, the stars. People saw them as vessels of the Creator, or servants of the King, and started worshiping them rather than the King Himself. At first, in the generation of Adam’s grandson, while Adam was still alive in the world, idolatry would have been subtle. Eventually, this idea devolved into creating more relatable gods, more like people themselves, with all their flaws and shortcomings.
Generations after the Flood, the descendants of Noah’s sons established a kingdom in the valley of Shinar. Following the Flood, the families had been instructed to disperse and populate the earth, each in his own assigned region of the world. Nimrod, son of Cush and grandson of Ham, became the world leader and brought the people together with the project of building a city and a tower. They said: “Come, let us build us a city, and a tower with its top in the heavens, and let us make a name for ourselves lest we be dispersed across the whole earth.”[3] Their plan to make a name for themselves speaks of their desire for power. This would have been the first “New World Order,” establishing the template for all future despots in their aspirations to global domination. They did not believe God’s promise to not flood the world again, but rather chose to fortify themselves against that possible catastrophe. They united in rebellion against God, with the belief that He could not be trusted to keep the Covenant He had made with Noah and to care for Noah’s children. They wanted to become completely self-reliant in their power lust, saying, “Come, let us make bricks and burn them in fire,”[4] using their man-made stones rather than stones made by God. This self-reliance, along with all the implements of it, became their religion—their faith would be in themselves, their own ingenuity and skills. Midrash says at the top of the tower they placed an idol holding a sword, defying God to oppose them.[5]
Of course, the generation of the Tower of Babel was dispersed over the earth, as their language was confused and their kingdom broken. Those with common languages grouped together and scattered to new places as new nations. However, the fears of the people of Babel were still embedded within them, confusing not just their languages, but their consciousness, as they moved from Shinar. These fears inspired images and mythologies of new gods, as they struggled to survive and make homes in new lands. Yet, in their higher consciousness—both individually and collectively—lived the memory of Noah (who was still living at the time of Babel) and the promises of the benevolent Creator.
Even in a time when idolatry filled the world, Hashem continued to draw Mankind back to the knowledge of His Oneness. First it was to a lone man, then to a family, then to a clan. To Abraham He was the chesed of El—lovingkindness. To Isaac He was the gevurah of Elohim—judgement and boundaries. To Jacob He was the tiferet of YHVH—beautiful balance of compassion. When Moses met Him at the burning bush He told him that even those stalwart, solitary Patriarchs who had known Him so intimately, did not know Him in the way He was going to reveal Himself to the Nation of Israel. They had experienced aspects of His character, revealed through His various Names. In Egypt the children of these patriarchs had gone from a clan of families to a nation—Israel. Their national destiny and purpose was hinted to Jacob when he wrestled with Esau’s angel and received the new name: Israel. “Yisrael” can be read “Yeshar El”—“Straight to God.” To Israel He would give His all-encompassing ineffable Name.
All the people of Israel stood at the foot of Mount Sinai and heard the voice of Hashem speak the Commandments of the Torah. They had come “straight into God.” With Israel’s experience, every nation—every spark of Adam’s Soul—had the opportunity to elevate “straight into God,” along with Israel. But something went terribly wrong. Moses went up the mountain to receive the tablets of the Torah. When he failed to come back down in the forty days’ time he had said he would be gone, the erev rav (mixed multitude) convinced Aaron to fashion the golden calf. They then led the people in worshipping this idol, declaring that this golden calf was the deity who had delivered them from Egypt. Amid the chaotic rowdiness, when Moses did come down with the tablets of the Torah, he furiously crushed them.
Many have asked how the people of Israel could have so quickly been convinced to worship an idol after the experience of directly hearing the voice of Hashem as an entire nation. Yet previous Torah examples demonstrate that even during the lifetime of a particular patriarch who experienced the Presence of God in some miraculous way, still, the masses of people could be turned by certain persuasive voices speaking “rationally, reasonably”—like the serpent, like the generation of Enosh, like Nimrod and his followers. The erev rav had this same convincing ability to take the people back to the comfortable familiar, back to the manageable. This would be religion in their own hands—something they could handle, something that would keep power in their own hands.
When Moses came back down the mountain with the second set of tablets, the trappings of the new religion were in place. The rituals would be clear with obvious rules—in the Tabernacle with set sacrifices. These would be the intermediaries, similar to the sacrifices of Adam and the primordial patriarchs. This would be the acceptable approach to Hashem that would become Judaism. While Judaism is certainly far from the idolatries of the nations, it cannot be denied that even its initial form was not the original intention of the Torah—Torah A. The religious ritual of the Tabernacle/Temple services prescribed in the second set of tablets (Torah B) was a compromise brought about by the choice of the golden calf—the tactile form of “religion of Man.” It must be noted that this was not a punishment, but rather a concession that there was not yet the vessel to contain the higher Torah—even in Israel—for Its Light would have destroyed the world!
The quest of the Adamic Soul is to the journey back to God. Are we even ready for the ascension into God that is the promise of Israel? Even if the answer is negative, most assuredly, this is the Divine Will of our future. So, it is quite appropriate to diligently ask Hashem what this looks like. What is His Ultimate Will for each of us—individually and collectively? Have we arrived at the time in which we are able to properly discern the man-made trappings in religion in order to transcend them and go “straight into God”? How is this done in a way that is still within His Will? While these questions are appropriate, caution is advisable, for over the years many mistakes have been made by people with the best of intentions. As stated above, there is an inborn aspect of loneliness that people deal with in different ways. The best way is to recognize that this isolation (even in a crowd of people) can be a time of hearing the voice of one’s own Soul, directing the path to new insight and enlightenment. However, the backside pitfall of loneliness makes a person vulnerable, as he seeks acceptance and belonging, and he may fall into the trap of cults. Yet, in our own time, this questioning is exactly the path that has led many people out of idolatrous religions into the quest for Torah. The only remedy is the Torah—to pray for understanding of Truth and to look to the Torah for the answers. Hashem is constantly revealing Himself through the Torah, and His desire is for each person to come to truly KNOW Him. This is the destined Redemption of the world that will take us—and everything—“straight into God.”
[1] Gensis 8:21.
[2] Genesis 4:26.
[3] Genesis 11:4.
[4] Genesis 11:3.
[5] Bereshit Rabba 38:6; Sanhedrin 108.
Healing Well of Miriam 
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