Starting Anew — From Bet

The Torah begins with the letter bet. Many have asked: Why not begin the Torah with an alef, the first letter in the Hebrew alphabet? One popular answer is that starting with bet is an expression of humility. There are certain things about God that are beyond our human comprehension. Just as the letter bet is closed on three sides and open only toward the left, the direction in which Hebrew is written, so too we approach the Creation story with an awareness that we cannot comprehend what came “before the bet,” before Bereishit. A second explanation is that the Torah begins with bet as a reminder that we should always build our Torah knowledge upon some precedent, and never begin from absolute alef. Our understanding of Torah should be built upon what we learn from our teachers, earlier commentators, and traditional sources. While it is appropriate to seek out new and personal relevance in the Torah, these efforts cannot begin from scratch. Our new understandings must start from bet, remaining loyal to the traditional understandings of Torah that have been incorporated into our Mesorah. Lastly, the Midrash (Bereishit Rabbah 1:10) suggests that the Torah begins with bet because the word bracha, blessing, begins with a bet. The Ibn Ezra asks: We find many negative words that begin with a bet. What exactly is the Midrash trying to tell us? The Maharal explains that bet symbolizes blessing, not simply because it begins the word bracha, but because of the nature of the letter itself. Bet is the second letter in the alef-bet. Its gematria is two. Whereas alef represents the singular, bet represents multiplicity. When you add to a single entity, you create the possibility of blessing. Throughout Parshat Bereishit, we see how blessing can be found in multiplicity. Hashem says, “Lo tov heyot ha-adam levado — It is not good for man to be alone.” This is the first lo tov in the Torah. Light is good. The heavens are good. The earth is good. The animals are good. What is not good? Being alone. So God says, “E’eseh lo ezer k’negdo — I will make for him a helper opposite him.” It is a seemingly contradictory phrase. Which is it? Ezer — someone who helps me? Or k’negdo — someone who stands opposite me? Rashi quotes the Gemara: Zacha — ezer; lo zacha — k’negdo. If a person merits it, his spouse is a help. If not, she is against him. The Izbitzer Rebbe offers a powerful way to understand these words: Maybe the opposition is the help. Think about learning Torah. Imagine a Beit Midrash where everyone always agreed. “I think the Gemara means this.” “Absolutely.” “I Couldn't agree more.” You wouldn't get very far. Torah is learned with someone opposite you, literally and figuratively. The person arguing with you isn't necessarily interfering with your learning. He may be helping you learn. According to the Izbitzer, k’negdo becomes the ezer. Sometimes the person who helps us most is the one who pushes back against our assumptions: the spouse who sees things differently, the friend who tells us what we don't want to hear, the child who forces us to discover patience we didn't know we had. Not all opposition is good. Cruelty and destructive conflict are not growth opportunities to be romanticized. But a life without resistance doesn't make us stronger. It leaves us untested. This is true of a community as well. We need the people who say, “Let's do it!” and the people who ask, “How exactly are we paying for it?” We need dreamers and skeptics, those who dream big and those who bring us back to reality. We need to stop assuming that every person who sees things differently is getting in the way. Sometimes they're showing us the way. That is the deeper meaning of the bet. The blessing is not simply that there are two of us. It is that there can be another perspective, another personality, another way of seeing the world. We don't have to agree with everyone. But we should be willing to listen, to learn, and to recognize that sometimes the person standing k’negdo may actually be the ezer we need. The Torah could have begun with alef, with one. Instead, it begins with bet, with multiplicity. The blessing of bet is found in the richness of different perspectives, in the strength that comes from people who see things differently, and in the growth that takes place when we encounter ideas and people who challenge us. Bet reminds us that a multitude of opinions and perspectives  is not simply something we tolerate. It is something that can make us stronger.