Bereshit 5776 - English

By Rabbi Daniel Kripper
Beth Israel Aruba

The tale of the Creation of Man appears in both chapters 1 and 2 of the book of Genesis.  The description of events differs in spirit, style and language, up to the point that the Rabbi and thinker Joseph Soloveitchik suggested the text refers to two paradigms of the human being.  He named them Adam I and Adam II. 

In his essay The Lonely Man of Faith, Adam I is the prototype of the technological man, while Adam II is mainly spiritual.  In other words, there is a contrast between the practical, functional and pragmatic man, and the intuitive and poetic man.  

The Practical Adam is an artisan with a task to complete.  He is not particularly interested in the philosophy of his work, but in the details of the action itself, how to make it happen in the most efficient and effective way possible.  

Adam II responds to the thinking type; he yearns to know who he is and where he is headed. His thoughts are focused on the last questions which he must face in the midst of his existential loneliness. 

The question that comes up is which of these Adams reflects us more completely.  Rabbi Soloveitchik answers we are both.  We oscillate constantly between the practical and the poetic.  They are like the yin and yang, or the two hemispheres of the brain; both are positive and contribute to our integral and harmonious development.  

However, when reflecting on the dichotomy between both types, we find that one can interfere with the other.  The Existential Adam is not very useful for completing a practical task.  On the other hand, Practical Adam counts for little when what is at stake are deeper more transcendent issues.  

How will we know the proper orientation necessary to face life’s different challenges?  How do we decide which one to display at each occasion?  

Without a doubt, it depends on the context and conditions of each particular moment.

A Hassidic Rabbi suggested we must each possess two pockets.  In one, we should place a piece of paper with the words “The world was created for me,” and in the other, another piece of paper with the following quote, “I am only dust and ashes.”

When I feel overwhelmed by my sense of smallness, I must read the first piece of paper and declare that the world was created for no other reason than for me.  When, on the contrary, I feel arrogant and presumptuous, I must be reminded of my intrinsic insignificance in the grand scheme of things.  

In the same way, we should swing from one Adam to the other depending on the changing circumstances.  Sometimes, Adam I must take the main role, while other times he must yield it to his counterpart.  

I believe this unique combination of facets is reflected in the work of creation itself.  The six days of material creativity conclude with a day of rest and appreciation for what has been accomplished.  The seventh day, Shabbat, is a break in the process of creation, and it must be honored through the contemplation in the goodness of the divine work, for physical delight and spiritual elevation.  From the archetype of “homo faber” of the week, from the man that manufactures and produces, in Shabbat we move to the man in search of kedushah, spirituality and inner peace; from the beauty of the created world to the beauty of holiness.  

Rabbi Daniel Kripper

Beth Israel Aruba