Bereshit

A new beginning. A fresh start. The Torah opens with the words “Bereshit bara Elokim et hashamayim v'et haaretz”—"In the beginning, Hashem created the heavens and the earth." But the deeper question is: why does the Torah start with creation at all? The Torah is not a science book. It is not a history book. It is a book of mitzvot, a guide to living a meaningful life. Shouldn’t it have started with "Hachodesh hazeh lachem"—the first mitzvah given to Bnei Yisrael?

Rashi famously answers that the Torah begins with Bereshit to teach us that Hashem is the Creator and the Master of the world. If the nations ever challenge our right to Eretz Yisrael, we can respond: Hashem created the land, and He gave it to whom He pleased.

But perhaps there is another lesson here.

Parshat Bereishit is not just the story of creation—it is the story of humanity. And right from the beginning, we see something extraordinary: Hashem creates the world in six days, and on each day, He declares, "And Hashem saw that it was good." Everything is good, everything is in order—until man is created. And suddenly, we are introduced to failure. To struggle. To sin.

Adam and Chava eat from the Eitz Hadaat, the one thing they were commanded not to do. Kayin becomes jealous of Hevel and commits the first murder. By the end of the parsha, Hashem even regrets creating mankind, because the world has become so corrupt.

What happened?

The Torah is showing us something fundamental. The world itself may have been created perfect, but human beings were created with bechirah chofshit (free will). And with free will comes mistakes. Struggles. Setbacks.

But there is something even more powerful than free will: the ability to start again.

Adam and Chava fail—but they continue. Kayin sins, but he does teshuvah. The world falls, but Noach rises to rebuild it.

This is what Bereshit is all about. The power of beginning again.

Every year, we finish the Yamim Nora’im, the intensity of Yom Kippur and Sukkot, and then—immediately—we start Bereshit. Because the greatest test of growth is not what happens during moments of inspiration, but what happens the day after. Can we bring that inspiration into real life? Can we move forward after setbacks? Can we start again, even after failure?

The very first letter of the Torah, bet, is closed on three sides and open only in the front. The Midrash explains that this teaches us to stop looking back. Don’t dwell on the past, don’t be trapped by regret—move forward.

We are not defined by our mistakes. We are defined by what we do after them.

And perhaps this is why the Torah begins with creation. Because Hashem Himself is teaching us: creation is not a one-time event. Every day, the world is renewed. Every day, the sun rises again. And every day, we are given the chance to create ourselves anew.

No matter what happened yesterday, today we can choose to be better. No matter how far we have fallen, we can rise.

Bereshit is not just the beginning of the Torah—it is the beginning of every single one of us. The question is: how will we write our own story?