From Nothingness to Somethingness

“And the Children of Israel went into the midst of the sea on dry land, and the waters were a wall for them on their right and on their left.” (Shemot 14:22)

Commentators have puzzled over the passage describing the crossing of the Sea of Reeds as “walking into the midst of the sea on dry land”.[1] Does it mean that the Israelites walked on the dry land when they were in the midst of the sea after it was split?

Or is this a paradox: how can one walk in the midst of a sea, but still be on dry land? After all, either you are in the sea, or you are on dry land! You cannot be both at the same time!

But perhaps there is no problem. Perhaps there is no dichotomy.

Perhaps there can be both simultaneously. Just as one can be biologically alive but spiritually dead, one can walk on dry land while being in the midst of water.

How so?

Think of the case of light. Physicists tell us that light is both a particle and a wave, two very different phenomena. Logically it should not be possible for both of these states to exist simultaneously.  And yet, they can.

Things can be good from one point of view, but bad from a different point of view. There are no absolutes in this world.

Nearly all matter, at the quantum level, is empty space, and yet we experience it as solid.[2] More so, on a certain level all that exists may be nothing more than a matrix of energy, a constantly changing state.

Nothing is static, everything changes, appearing and disappearing.

This is something that the great Chassidic masters somehow grasped. Based on kabalistic teachings, they claimed that ultimately all is “Ayin”, nothingness. The world is not made of “something” at all, but of nothingness that is continuously compressed into an illusion of solidity:

“All created beings are truly naught and nothing before Him…” Their existence is only as the light of the sun within the sun itself. Were the divine life-force to depart for even an instant, they would revert to absolute nothingness.[3]

Existence is not stable substance but nothingness held together for a fleeting moment.

All existence, including human beings, pass through this nothingness before “becoming”. Just for a “split second” it is “not”, before it “is”. This is the moment when freedom is born—and with it, the terror of existence.

Before the fetus “becomes” it is not yet anything. Even the female egg and the male sperm from which the fetus is formed are nothing before they become something. The egg and the sperm can either become something, or in the case of most eggs and most sperm, return to nothingness.

This state of “nothingness”, this state of pure potential prior to becoming, is a moment of great trepidation.  Anything can happen. Or fail to happen. There are no guaranties. All bets are off.

It is in that condition that the Israelites are in the midst of the sea while standing on dry land. This is an impossible moment. It is Ayin, nothingness within existence.

When they reach the other side of the Sea of Reeds, they leave the nothingness behind. It is at that moment that they come into existence as a people. This moment of becoming inspired the greatest song ever sung:

Then Moshe and the Children of Israel sang this song to the Lord, and they said: ‘I will sing to the Lord, for He is exalted beyond exaltation…’ (Shemot 15:1)

Note that “Az Yashir” can mean “then he sang” or “then he will sing”—a becoming that never fully reaches its completion. The song encapsulates that terrifying moment when the children “became”.

Notes:

[1] See Mekhilta de-Rabbi Yishmael, Beshalach, Masechta de-Vayehi, parashah 5, which notes the tension between “midst of the sea” and “dry land” and understands the verse as describing an unprecedented suspension of natural categories.

[2] Modern physics describes matter as largely empty space at the quantum level; see, for example, Richard Feynman, QED: The Strange Theory of Light and Matter (Princeton University Press, 1985).

[3] R. Shneur Zalman of Liadi, Tanya, Sha’ar HaYichud VehaEmunah, chs. 3–4.

Questions for the Shabbat Table

1. A Midrash in Bereshit Rabbah (3:7) states that God “created worlds and destroyed them” before this one. Does this mean that nothingness is not merely a prelude to the original creation, but an ongoing possibility embedded within existence itself? Does that imply that doubt and instability are not failures—but conditions for growth?

2. Quantum physics describes reality as probabilistic rather than deterministic at its most fundamental level. Does this scientific picture strengthen Rav Cardozo’s claim that existence itself is a moment of risk—or does it undermine the need for metaphysical explanations altogether?

3. Rashi, commenting on Sanhedrin 91b, notes that yashir may be read in the future tense—hinting that this song reaches beyond its historical moment toward an unfinished redemption. Does this reading support Rabbi Cardozo’s interpretation of the ambiguity of “yashir” or does it challenge it?

4. If all existence is sustained nothingness, why does Halakhah assume stability—fixed times, fixed measures, fixed obligations? Shouldn’t a Judaism built on fundamental contingency produce a radically different religious system?