Introduction
The relationship between the laws of physics and the conditions necessary for life is among the most profound mysteries in both science and theology. Physicists have long wrestled with the so-called “fine-tuning problem,” which highlights that even minute deviations in the fundamental constants could render the universe barren. Some interpret this precision as mere happenstance or the product of countless alternate universes—a multiverse; others envision an evolutionary process acting on cosmic laws themselves. Traditional Jewish sources offer yet another perspective, suggesting that G‑d created and destroyed multiple universes—each with distinct configurations—before settling on the life-supporting cosmos we inhabit.
In this essay, we examine the fine-tuning problem alongside theories of evolving physical laws, as well as classical and mystical teachings on the Tabernacle (Mishkan) as a microcosm of creation. By exploring midrashic and kabbalistic narratives, we discover a unique theological counterpart to scientific speculation. Although some theorists imagine that the laws of physics evolve naturally, the Torah-based viewpoint discussed here proposes that G‑d “fine-tuned” each universe’s fundamental constants while preserving the underlying law-like framework. Whether such a process is interpreted as literal or metaphorical, it illuminates the deeper question of how cosmic order is established—and how the universe, much like the carefully designed Mishkan, reflects a deliberate and purposeful structure capable of nurturing life, meaning, and divine purpose.
I. The Fine-Tuning Problem
The problem of fine-tuning recognizes that even tiny deviations from these precise values would yield a drastically different cosmos. In such alternate universes, atoms might not bind, stars might not form, or the expansion rate might be too fast or too slow to allow for habitable worlds.[1]
Cosmological Constant
The cosmological constant, often associated with dark energy, governs the rate at which the universe’s expansion accelerates. If it were even slightly larger, the universe would expand so quickly that matter could not clump to form stars or galaxies; if it were substantially smaller (or negative), the universe might collapse in on itself before life could develop. Steven Weinberg has famously argued that the constant appears to be “unnaturally” small, reinforcing the sense that it is finely tuned (see “Anthropic Bound on the Cosmological Constant,” Physical Review Letters 59 (1987): 2607–2610).[2]
Strength of Fundamental Forces
- Gravity: If gravity were stronger by a modest percentage, stars might burn through their fuel too quickly or collapse entirely; if weaker, they might fail to ignite nuclear fusion.
- Electromagnetism: A minute alteration in electromagnetic coupling could disrupt chemistry, preventing stable atoms from forming.
- Strong Nuclear Force: The strong force binds quarks into protons and neutrons. A slight change in its strength could mean no stable deuterium, thus no process to build heavier elements in stars, leading to a universe devoid of the chemical variety necessary for life.
Particle Masses:
The masses of fundamental particles—such as electrons, protons, and neutrons—are crucial for maintaining stable atoms and molecules. For example, the neutron is slightly heavier than the proton, which allows neutrons to decay and prevents ordinary matter from collapsing. Even marginal changes in these masses could make it impossible for hydrogen to exist or for heavier elements to form.
Initial Conditions and Entropy
Besides the constants themselves, the universe’s initial conditions also appear exquisitely balanced. The English mathematician and astrophysicist Roger Penrose has famously pointed out that the early universe’s entropy level was extraordinarily low, which allowed structure (stars, galaxies, planets) to develop over cosmic history. A random universe, he notes, would almost certainly begin in a state too disordered to permit the emergence of life or complex structure.[3]
Why This Matters
Such precision naturally provokes the question: Why are these constants and conditions “just right”? The so-called “fine-tuning problem” then seeks explanations that range from purely naturalistic accounts to philosophical and theological considerations:
- Pure Chance: A brute-fact scenario in which we happen to occupy this particular set of constants and conditions, with no deeper explanation.
- Multiverse: Our universe is but one in an enormous ensemble, each with different constants.[4] We find ourselves in a life-friendly universe because only in such a universe can observers arise to notice it. This is what is called the Anthropic Principle.[5]
- Evolution of Laws: Some theorists have suggested that, across many cosmic cycles or through black-hole creation of new universes, laws or constants adapt in a quasi-Darwinian process.[6]
- Design: A theological perspective posits that a divine creator selected these parameters intentionally to allow for life, thereby revealing purposeful design in the cosmos.
Whether one interprets these narrow “Goldilocks” ranges as the product of chance, selection processes, or divine intention, the fine-tuning problem underscores the remarkable specificity of our physical environment. It remains a central puzzle for cosmology, physics, and philosophy, inspiring a plethora of theories that aim to explain why the universe is not only able to exist, but also able to host life and consciousness.
II. The Evolutionary Approach to Physics Laws
1. Origins: From Fixed Laws to the Possibility of Change
Clock Universe
Despite the longstanding assumption that the laws of physics are fixed and universal, various theorists have proposed that these laws could themselves change or evolve over time. Early scientific frameworks in the seventeenth and eighteenth centuries typically portrayed nature as governed by static, eternal principles—a perspective codified by the successes of Newtonian mechanics, which seemed to disclose a timeless mathematical order. This view remained dominant well into the twentieth century, even as relativity and quantum theory complicated the notion of a simple, unalterable backdrop of laws. Yet these complications, especially the role of the observer and measurement in quantum mechanics, began to loosen the rigid assumption of immutability and prompted several thinkers to hypothesize that, under certain circumstances, the laws of nature might be contingent or emergent, rather than eternally fixed.
Darwinian Approach to Evolution of Physical Laws
Charles Sanders Peirce (1839–1914) was among the earliest philosophers to bridge Darwinian insights with the idea of evolving physical laws. In his work, Peirce proposed that the fundamental regularities we call “laws” might originate as provisional “habits” that become stabilized over vast timescales, much as successful traits become ingrained through natural selection in biology. In “The Architecture of Theories” (1891), he outlined a vision of the cosmos that is neither rigidly determined nor eternally static, but rather shaped by a developmental dynamic that allows for genuine novelty in the formation of law-like patterns.[7] In so doing, Peirce offered an alternative to the then-standard assumption of immutable physical principles—an approach that anticipated later twentieth-century speculations on the possibility of cosmic law evolution.
2. Contemporary Views on the Evolution of Physical Laws
John Archibald Wheeler: Law without Law
Highly influential American physicist John Archibald Wheeler was one of the first to draw attention to the idea that what we call “laws” might be by-products of deeper principles—or indeed might not exist in any conventional sense until observers participate in the cosmic process.[8] Wheeler’s “law without law” thesis underscored the possibility that law-like regularities crystallize from information-theoretic constraints and from the interplay between the cosmos and its observers. In effect, Wheeler proposed that nature’s apparent regularities could be the result of an ongoing dynamical process rather than a static prescription, although he stopped short of articulating a fully developed mechanism by which such laws would come into being.
Lee Smolin: Darwinian Evolution of Black Holes
Lee Smolin subsequently elaborated on a concept of evolving laws in his theory of “cosmological natural selection.” In this account, advanced in The Life of the Cosmos, black holes seed the birth of new universes, each with slightly altered fundamental constants.[9] According to the hypothesis, the universes whose laws maximize the production of black holes would thereby generate more offspring universes, favoring in a quasi-Darwinian sense the selection of laws conducive to black hole formation. While such a notion of evolutionary pressure acting on fundamental constants remains speculative, it exemplifies one of the clearest attempts to describe in detail how laws might evolve across cosmological timescales. By suggesting that a kind of reproductive advantage obtains at the level of entire universes, Smolin’s approach introduces a teleological element absent in more traditional accounts, which tend to treat laws as axiomatic and incapable of historical change.
Other Evolutionary Approaches
Other proposals have invoked emergent or “time-based” perspectives to support the claim that laws are neither timeless nor transcendent. Some researchers in quantum gravity, for example, posit that spacetime may itself emerge from more fundamental discrete structures. If this is correct, then the “laws” observed in the smooth macroscopic realm might be derivative or approximate, arising only once these discrete elements coalesce into a continuum.
In a parallel vein, the vast “string theory landscape” highlights a multiplicity of possible vacuum states, each corresponding to different low-energy constants. Although not always explicitly labeled “evolutionary,” such a scenario raises the prospect that the laws we witness might not hold in other regions of a putative multiverse and might have themselves been shaped or selected by conditions in the early universe. Some of these interpretations involve anthropic reasoning: rather than an explicit mechanism of change, one posits that observers can only arise in universes whose laws are conducive to stable structures. However, by linking selection effects to the formation of observers, such arguments too suggest that laws are not necessarily absolute fixtures but might hinge on processes that involve contingency and historical development.
Insofar as law evolution remains difficult to test, these theories tend to remain on the fringes of mainstream physics. Nevertheless, their conceptual significance is substantial, particularly in the context of attempts to unify general relativity and quantum mechanics. If spacetime and possibly other fundamental structures emerge dynamically rather than exist in a finished state from the very beginning, then the laws that govern matter and fields might themselves be subject to historical development. Indeed, a number of theorists have advanced the idea that time itself is more basic than law, and that what we call law might represent crystallized regularities that have, in effect, “grown” more stable over eons. This stance dramatically departs from the Enlightenment model of nature as an eternal, mathematically ordained realm, and it raises pressing philosophical issues, such as whether law can be separated from contingent fact, or whether the cosmos harbors any necessity at all.
Not all philosophers or physicists embrace the evolutionary hypothesis. Critics argue that it is exceedingly difficult to frame observational tests capable of detecting law changes, especially if these occur only in regimes outside normal experimental reach. Others remain concerned that claims of law evolution risk conflating metaphysical speculation with scientific theory unless one can specify coherent, measurable criteria for the process of change. However, even critics concede that these approaches have widened the scope of reflection on what “law” might mean. Rather than presuppose the immutability of physical principles, they challenge us to consider whether the cosmos could be far more plastic and historically conditioned than once believed. In so doing, they invite inquiry into the nature and origin of the profound regularities we discover in our scientific theorizing—regularities that may one day be understood as outcomes of a cosmic evolutionary process rather than as fixed pillars of reality.
III. The Tabernacle (Mishkan) as a Microcosm
1. The Tabernacle as Microcosm
In traditional Jewish thought, the Tabernacle (Mishkan) is not merely a portable sanctuary built in the wilderness to house the Ark of the Covenant. Rather, classical sources portray it as a comprehensive model of the universe, embodying both physical and spiritual dimensions. By viewing the Mishkan in this light, commentators seek to illuminate how divine order and cosmic principles are reflected in the very structure of sacred space. In turn, this vision of the Mishkan as a “microcosm” underscores that the laws governing the natural world might be more than mere abstractions; they can be concretely modeled in the architecture and rites of Israel’s holy place.
Midrashic Teachings
A key textual basis for the idea that the Mishkan replicates the cosmos comes from various midrashic collections. One oft-cited passage is found in Midrash Tanhuma on Parashat Pekudei, which declares that the Tabernacle “corresponds to the entire world and to the structure of the human body.”[10] Similarly, in Midrash Rabbah, Exodus 51:3, we read that “The Mishkan was equal to the creation of the world,” and each element of the Mishkan is mapped onto one day of creation.[11] These midrashim construe the building of the Tabernacle as a recapitulation of the divine act of creation, emphasizing an intrinsic link between the structure of sacred space and the framework of the cosmos.
The Zohar’s Commentary
The Zohar also elaborates on the microcosmic quality of the Mishkan. It interprets many aspects of the Tabernacle—its measurements, its furnishings, its layered coverings—as symbolizing the interplay among the sefirot (divine emanations).[12] In this view, the Mishkan becomes the locus in which spiritual energies, descending from the higher realms, coalesce and manifest in the physical world. By forging a link between the divine blueprint (in the form of the sefirot) and the tangible materials of wood, gold, silver, and woven cloth, the Zohar depicts the Tabernacle as an architectonic reflection of the universal order.
Kabbalistic Perspective
The Jewish mystical tradition offers further detail on the Mishkan’s cosmic resonances. Rabbi Moshe Cordovero (Ramak), in his Pardes Rimonim, meticulously maps each vessel of the Mishkan to corresponding sefirot (divine emanations), underscoring a one-to-one correlation between the Mishkan’s implements and the internal dynamics of the G‑dhead.[13] Similar parallels were drawn by Rabbi Menachem Recanati in his Torah commentary,[14] as well as by the Maharal of Prague (Rabbi Judah Loew), whose works explore the sanctuary’s symbolic embodiment of cosmic and human realities.[15] In so doing, these kabbalistic sources elaborate a conceptual schema whereby sacred architecture reflects and channels spiritual forces.
From Chaos to Order
Many commentators note that just as the biblical Creation narrative (Genesis 1–2) describes an initial state of tohu-va-vohu (formlessness and void) that is shaped into order, so too, the process of constructing the Mishkan takes raw materials—metals, fabrics, animal skins—and organizes them into a meticulously arranged structure (Exodus 25–40). In philosophical terms, the “actualization” of matter into a purposeful building recapitulates the fundamental movement from chaos to cosmos.
Cosmic Mirror and Divine Presence
Described in these sources as a “world within a world,” the Mishkan mirrors the totality of creation but in a sanctified form. As an architectural embodiment of the cosmos, it is the site where human and divine realms most intimately intersect. The laws concerning its design, maintenance, and ritual use thus carry an echo of cosmic order, suggesting that the Mishkan’s microcosmic framework does not merely reference universal patterns in an abstract manner; rather, it actively sustains and reveals them in the ongoing religious life of Israel.
Mediator Between Creator and Creation
If the universe is governed by metaphysical laws—divine emanations, creative energies—the Mishkan stands as a mediator that makes those laws visible and actionable in daily life. Its detailed measurements and precise crafts hint at how the fundamental “laws” are at once stable and flexible: stable in their overarching structure but flexible in their capacity to be translated into material form. In this sense, the Mishkan’s microcosmic nature does not remain merely symbolic; it actively enables Israel to dwell in alignment with cosmic order.
The Tabernacle as a Microcosm of the Universe
The Tabernacle is seen as a microcosm of the universe, with its construction paralleling the creation of the universe in Bereshit. The parallel between the Tabernacle and the universe highlights the idea that the universe is a creation of divine wisdom and design. Just as the Tabernacle was constructed according to a precise plan and design, the universe was created according to a precise plan and design.
This idea manifests itself in the fine-tuning of the universe, which is uniquely suited for the emergence of life.
Assembling and Disassembling the Tabernacle
For seven days before inaugurating the Tabernacle, Moses assembled and disassembled it on a daily basis. The Midrash explains that each morning, Moses would erect the Mishkan and perform its ritual setup; by evening, he would take it down, repeating this process daily until the first of Nisan.[16]
The assembly and dismantling of the Tabernacle during the first seven days parallels the creation and destruction of myriad universes before this universe was created. Just as the Tabernacle was assembled and dismantled multiple times before its final construction, the universe underwent multiple cycles of creation and destruction before its final creation.
IV. Creating and Destroying Universes
According to the Midrash Genesis Rabba, G‑d created and destroyed many universes before creating our universe:
Rabbi Abbahu said: “From here [we learn] that the Holy One, Blessed be He, created worlds and destroyed them, created worlds and destroyed them, until He created these and said: ‘These please Me, whereas those did not please Me.’”[17]
The assembly and dismantling of the Tabernacle represent the cycles of creation and destruction that occurred before the creation of our universe. Echoing this idea, Midrash Kohelet Rabbah states:
The Holy One, Blessed be He, would create worlds and then obliterate them, until He made the one that stands forever.[18]
The Zohar also discusses the idea that primordial acts of creation did not endure:
In the beginning, the Holy One, Blessed be He, created worlds and then returned and destroyed them … until the world stood as it should.[19]
Some later Kabbalistic texts and commentaries (including portions of the Zohar Ḥadash or various Tikkunim of the Zohar) also revisit the theme of ephemeral universes. These sections discuss how certain configurations of sefirot did not stabilize, leading to a collapse or “shattering” (shevirah), before the eventual establishment of a balanced creation. Although often framed in more abstract symbolic terms, they reiterate the same fundamental notion of multiple creative attempts.
The Lurianic concept of shevirat hakelim (“the shattering of the vessels”) and the collapse of the primordial world of Tohu (“Chaos”) is the centerpiece of Lurianic cosmogony. In the system articulated by Rabbi Isaac Luria and expanded by his disciple Rabbi Ḥayim Vital, shevirah explains how an earlier universe—referred to as Olam ha-Tohu (the “World of Chaos”)—failed to endure, shattering under the intensity of the divine light it attempted to contain. This event gave rise to the “sparks” (nitzutzot) and “shards” (kelipot) that became embedded in subsequent creations, a process culminating in the formation of Olam ha-Tikkun (“the World of Rectification”). The Tikkun world is more capable of holding divine light in balanced vessels (kelim), thereby achieving a degree of stability absent in the chaotic, shattered realm.[20]
From a Lurianic standpoint, then, the notion of “G‑d creating worlds and destroying them” finds a profound metaphysical counterpart in the image of an initial cosmic blueprint (Tohu) that could not be sustained and thus collapsed. Ari’s exposition aligns with earlier midrashic references—such as Bereshit Rabbah 3:7 and Kohelet Rabbah 3:14—that speak of multiple creations prior to the present one. However, rather than treating these failed worlds as mere historical curiosities, Lurianic Kabbalah integrates them into a broader theological narrative of cosmic exile and redemption: the shattered world of Tohu laid the groundwork for the avodah (spiritual labor) in which humankind, through acts of mitzvot and ethical refinement, participates in gathering and elevating the scattered divine sparks. This ultimately drives the universe toward rectification (tikkun) and the messianic ideal.
Thus, the reason references to shevirat hakelim and Olam ha-Tohu often appear in discussions of preexisting worlds is that Lurianic Kabbalah provides a detailed, mystical mechanism for why those primordial realms did not endure. They form part of a grand cosmic drama, wherein the concept of “destroyed worlds” is not merely a curious aside in midrashic tradition, but rather a central element in explaining the theological and metaphysical underpinnings of our present reality—an existence constantly in process, poised between the remnants of shattering and the hope of ultimate unification.
V. The Evolutionary Approach to Physics Laws – A Torah Perspective
The Evolutionary Approach to Physics Laws – A Torah Perspective
In light of the foregoing discussion on the evolution of physical laws, a distinctly Torah-based viewpoint emerges that both echoes and diverges from contemporary scientific speculation.
Traditional Jewish sources—including Bereshit Rabbah (3:7) and the Lurianic concept of shevirat hakelim—speak of G‑d’s creation and subsequent destruction of countless universes prior to establishing the one in which we currently dwell. While this theme can be read in various ways, a compelling interpretation is that these texts anticipate a notion of “fine-tuning” or “selection” wherein G‑d “experiments,” as it were, with different configurations of cosmic constants until a fully viable creation is achieved.
Yet, in the perspective offered here, this fine-tuning does not entail a literal evolution of the laws of nature themselves. The fundamental physics that G‑d imposes on creation remains essentially the same across each iteration—much like the blueprint of the Mishkan in the Torah portion of Pekudei, which remained consistent even as Moses assembled and disassembled it repeatedly during the seven-day inauguration (Shemot Rabbah 52:4; Midrash Tanhuma, Pekudei). The structure, or “form,” of the laws is thus divinely ordained and unaltered. However, the fundamental constants that govern the universe may vary from one universe to another until a suitable, life-permitting configuration emerges.
From a midrashic or kabbalistic standpoint, the allusion to “G‑d creating and destroying myriad worlds” can be read as G‑d “testing” different sets of fundamental constants—corresponding to universes that did not remain stable or conducive to life. Just as Bereshit Rabbah (3:7) presents G‑d saying “These did not please Me” of the unsuccessful worlds, so too in this theological framing each ephemeral universe lacked the right conditions for sustained existence. Eventually, a stable and life-supporting universe was realized. At that juncture, G‑d declared, “I like this one,” thereby allowing it to endure.[21]
It appears to me that this Torah-based fine-tuning proposal posits that while the universal laws themselves are divinely decreed and unchanging, their numerical parameters—analogous to the “measurements” in the Mishkan, each carefully calibrated—underwent successive adjustments across multiple cosmic attempts. In philosophical terms, one could say that the “form” of law is necessary and universal, but the “matter” of the cosmos (i.e., the specific constants) is open to variation until it yields an enduring, life-permitting configuration.
One of the scriptural underpinnings for the idea that G-d created and destroyed multiple universes before finally settling on our own is the verse
These are the generations of the heaven and earth… (Genesis 2:4).
Midrashic commentators observe that the word toldot (“generations” or “productions”) can imply succession: worlds were formed and unmade in a process culminating in the stable cosmos we inhabit. Indeed, Bereishit Rabbah 3:7 offers its famous statement—“The Holy One, Blessed be He, created worlds and destroyed them”—on this very passage, suggesting that the phrase “these are the generations” encodes a history of repeated creation, each “generation” of worlds leading up to our present universe. Intriguingly, this verse resonates with Lee Smolin’s notion of cosmological natural selection: just as “generations” of universes might emerge from black holes in Smolin’s model, Genesis 2:4 can be read as alluding to a generative chain in which one cosmos gives rise to the next. While these perspectives differ in their metaphysical underpinnings—Smolin’s theory posits a quasi-Darwinian process in a multiverse, whereas the Midrash frames it as a divine act—the shared emphasis on successive universes underscores the creative dynamism implicit in both scriptural exegesis and some branches of modern cosmology.
Such a view can be seen as a theological counterpart to certain modern hypotheses about cosmological selection or the multiverse, but with a significant doctrinal difference: this process is a deliberate and purposeful divine act. Rather than blind natural selection, we encounter a divine hand that continually refines the world until it is “just right” for intelligent life. In that sense, the Torah’s narrative of repeated creation and destruction, culminating in an enduring creation, furnishes a theological solution to the fine-tuning problem—namely, that G‑d shapes the constants until the resulting cosmos can support human life and the subsequent fulfillment of G‑d’s broader plan for existence.
Moreover, this outlook resonates with the message of the Torah portion of Pekudei, which culminates in the completion of the Mishkan. That sacred edifice stands as a microcosm of creation itself—reflecting, in miniature, the broader order of the universe (Midrash Rabbah, Exodus 51:3). The repeated assembly during the days of inauguration (Shemot Rabbah 52:4) parallels the possibility of multiple universes being assembled and disassembled until the divine presence can “settle in” permanently. Just as the Mishkan had to be measured and refined according to exact specifications, so too did the universe’s fundamental constants require careful fine-tuning.
In sum, this Torah-based perspective affirms that the general framework of physics is not subject to change, yet it acknowledges that the values at which laws operate may vary across different “attempts” at creation. When the cosmos is finally endowed with constants that enable life and consciousness, the Creator announces that this creation “pleases Me,” allowing it to remain. In doing so, scriptural and kabbalistic tradition offers a theologically inflected narrative of cosmic selection—one that weds the notion of repeated universes to a divinely guided fine-tuning process. While speculative from both a scientific and a traditional standpoint, this approach harmonizes the religious conviction of a deliberate creation with the philosophical intrigue surrounding the “why” of cosmic fine-tuning. The result is a unique theological synthesis: G‑d’s ongoing creative wisdom yields a universe that is not happenstance, but rather the fruit of an iterative, purposeful adjustment of cosmic constants—a cosmos truly “fitted” for intelligent life.
Conclusion
This exploration of fine-tuning and the evolution of physical laws has led us from contemporary cosmological debates to the microcosmic symbolism of the Mishkan. We observed how thinkers such as Peirce, Wheeler, and Smolin challenge the notion of fixed, immutable laws, proposing instead that the universe’s constants or rules might change over time. Traditional Jewish sources similarly speak of G‑d’s repeated creation and destruction of worlds, suggesting that different universes—each with its own set of constants—preceded our own.
I suggest that, rather than champion a literal evolution of laws, the Torah-based view advanced here distinguishes between the permanent blueprint of physical law and the fine-tuning of constants within that framework. By uniting a biblical and kabbalistic account of creation with the scientific notion of cosmic selection, this approach offers a theologically grounded solution to the fine-tuning problem: G‑d deliberately “tries out” different configurations, ultimately choosing the constants that yield a life-bearing cosmos. In this sense, religious tradition and modern cosmology need not be in conflict; instead, they can reinforce one another’s insight into why our universe is “just right” for life—and why the search for meaning and purpose in its design remains so deeply compelling.
Endnotes
[1] Rees, Martin. 1999. Just Six Numbers: The Deep Forces That Shape the Universe. New York: Basic Books.
[2] Weinberg, Steven. 1987. “Anthropic Bound on the Cosmological Constant.” Physical Review Letters 59 (22): 2607–2610.
[3] Penrose, Roger. 1979. “Singularities and Time-Asymmetry.” In General Relativity: An Einstein Centenary Survey, edited by S. W. Hawking and W. Israel, 581–638. Cambridge: Cambridge University Press.
[4] Carr, Bernard, ed. 2007. Universe or Multiverse? Cambridge: Cambridge University Press.
Penrose, Roger. 1979. “Singularities and Time-Asymmetry.” In General Relativity: An Einstein Centenary Survey, edited by S. W. Hawking and W. Israel, 581–638. Cambridge: Cambridge University Press.
[5] Barrow, John D., and Frank J. Tipler. 1986. The Anthropic Cosmological Principle. Oxford: Oxford University Press.
[6] Smolin, Lee. The Life of the Cosmos, 1997.
[7] Peirce, Charles Sanders. 1891. “The Architecture of Theories.” The Monist 1 (2): 161–176.
[8] Wheeler, John Archibald. “Law Without Law.” In Quantum Theory and Measurement, edited by John Archibald Wheeler and Wojciech Hubert Zurek, 182–213. Princeton, NJ: Princeton University Press, 1983.
[9] Smolin, Lee. The Life of the Cosmos. New York: Oxford University Press, 1997.
[10] Midrash Tanhuma (Warsaw edition). 1885. Pekudei, section 2.
[11] Midrash Rabbah. 1984. Exodus Rabbah. Translated by S. M. Lehrman. London: Soncino Press.
[12] Sefer ha-Zohar. 2002. Zohar: The Book of Enlightenment. Edited and translated by Daniel C. Matt. Stanford, CA: Stanford University Press.
[13] Cordovero, Rabbi Moshe. 1591. Pardes Rimonim. Venice.
[14] Recanati, Rabbi Menachem. 14th century. Perush Al Ha-Torah.
[15] Loew (Maharal) of Prague, Rabbi Judah. 16th century. Tiferet Yisrael.
[16] Shemot (Exodus) Rabbah 52:4; Midrash Tanhuma, Pekudei 11; Zohar II:235b–236a (Parashat Pekudei).
[17] Bereshit (Genesis) Rabbah 3:7.
[18] Kohelet Rabbah 3:14.
[19] Zohar (III:61b, Parshat Acharei Mot).
[20] Vital, Rabbi Ḥayim. Eitz Ḥayim: Shaar Shevirat ha-Kelim (particularly Gate 7–8), published in 17th century.
[21] This begs the question, “Couldn’t G‑d in His infinite wisdom figure out what would be the right universe and create it? How could we explain the creation and destruction of the myriads of worlds until the right one was created in view of divine omniscience and foreknowledge? The apparent tension between G‑d’s omniscience and the idea of multiple “failed” universes is hardly new in theological discourse. While Jewish tradition offers no single dogmatic resolution, it provides several interpretive avenues through which this issue can be addressed. Below are some of the most commonly discussed approaches. They are not mutually exclusive; in fact, many commentators weave elements of these perspectives together to form a more holistic understanding.
- Within classical Jewish philosophy (e.g., Maimonides’ discussions in the Guide for the Perplexed), G‑d’s foreknowledge does not necessarily preclude a process from unfolding in creation. According to this view, G‑d knows perfectly which outcome will prevail but wills creation to pass through developmental stages—or at least to be described that way in scriptural and midrashic language. The “failed worlds” can then be seen as manifestations of a divine plan that incorporates discrete phases, not a reflection of any deficiency in G‑d’s knowledge.
- Another approach, often noted by mystics, posits that G‑d’s infinite perspective is distinct from the temporal unfolding of reality. From G‑d’s standpoint—beyond time—there is no “trial and error.” Yet, within the world’s own timeline, events appear sequential and perhaps contingent. Midrashic language captures the world’s perspective of being shaped, unmade, and remade, even if G‑d, transcending time, sees the final outcome from the outset.
- The Ari and his disciples describe the primordial shevirah (“shattering”) not as a miscalculation on G‑d’s part, but as a necessary cosmic step in the eventual emergence of tikkun (rectification). From this angle, the so-called “failed” or “destroyed” worlds are intrinsic to the process of creation’s self-realization. G‑d, of course, knows precisely what the outcome will be, but the universe itself must pass through stages that, from our temporal vantage point, look like collapse and rebuilding.
- Finally, it bears repeating that terms like “creating,” “destroying,” “liking,” or “disliking” in the midrashic sense are anthropomorphic descriptions of an ineffable divine act. From a rabbinic and kabbalistic standpoint, we lack the vocabulary to describe G‑d’s infinite knowledge and will. We must resort to human categories, including trial-and-error, to convey something about the profound complexity of creation.
Rather than undermine G‑d’s omniscience, the notion of multiple “failed” universes can be understood as a theological or mystical narrative that teaches about the delicate nature of creation, the role of process in cosmic history, and our own responsibility in a finely balanced world. Whether one views these descriptions as literal or symbolic, they, of course, in no way imply that G‑d was ignorant of the ultimate outcome. Instead, they illustrate that the path from potential to actuality may be—and perhaps must be—characterized by stages of unfolding, each contributing to the divine plan in ways that human understanding can only approximate.
