You Don't Know What You've Got 'till It's Gone
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- Created: 16 October 2025
When Adam “meets” his life partner for the first time, he is smitten. Naturally, Adam names her appropriately, by saying “….this is now bone of my bones, and flesh of my flesh: she shall be called Woman [isha], because she was taken out of Man [ish].”
However, if you look just one chapter later, after the Torah tells about the sin of the “Tree of Knowledge,” Adam names the woman AGAIN – but this time he calls her something else: “And the man called his wife’s name Chava; because she was the mother of all living [Chai].” It must have been clear to Adam from the beginning that Chava was indeed going to be “the mother of all living,” as she was always the only female, and Hashem had already told them in the very first chapter to “Be fruitful, and multiply, replenish the earth, and subdue it…” What changed now that Adam finally named her Chava after her maternal potential?
On Motzai Shabbos during Havdalah, we use a multi-wick candle and say the bracha “borei m’orei haeish.” This is based on a Medrash in this week’s parsha, which says that Adam saw the world turn dark for the first time on Saturday night, and he was inspired to rub two stones together, at which time he discovered fire. What is the connection between the creation of fire and Havdalah? It seems that it was just a coincidence of timing that he happened to discover fire on Saturday night.
Possibly it has to do with the fact that a person can only truly recognize the value of something when he is in danger of not having it. If a person was unable to walk due to an accident, when he rehabilitates and regains independence, he will appreciate the simple ability to walk. Adam didn’t say a bracha on the light that he experienced for the first thirty-six hours of creation, even though it was a much greater light than that which he was able to generate for himself on Motzai Shabbos, because until he saw darkness and was worried that he would never have light again, he couldn’t appreciate the value of that little spark of light.
Rabbi Jonathan Sacks z”l writes in his book Future Tense:
Words are often born when the phenomenon they name is under threat. The adjective orthodox first appeared in a Jewish context in France in the early nineteenth century in the course of the debate about Jewish citizenship in the new nation-state. For the first time in the modern world the traditional terms of Jewish existence were thrown into question. Alternatives were proposed. Some argued that Judaism must change. Those who disagreed were given the label ‘orthodox’. Only when something is challenged does it need a name. Until then it is taken for granted, part of the background. (Sacks 25).
With this insight in mind, we can better appreciate Chavah’s name change. As a punishment for eating from the “Tree of Knowledge,” and for enticing her husband to eat as well, she is informed by Hashem that giving birth was no longer going to be painless and harmless. It would be difficult, painful and dangerous. At this point it was no longer clear whether she would willingly subject herself to the torment of childbearing and tolerate the burdens of pregnancy and labor. Before the sin, Chava’s role as mother could be taken for granted. It didn’t need a name. Now, Adam, fearing that his wife would opt out from motherhood, created a new word, Chava, which means “mother of all life,” to defend the majesty of motherhood and justify its ordeal.
This idea relates to what Motzai Shabbat is all about. The holiness of Shabbat leaves us, and at that time we begin to appreciate what kedusha, sanctity, really is. A person who experiences the sanctity of Shabbat and sees it leaving can sense that he really needs Shabbat, and then can try to rub some spiritual flintstones together to create small sparks of kedusha.
In Belz there is a minhag at Mincha on Simchat Torah - the gabbai gives a klap and announces that it is the last shemona esrei of the heilige teg – the last amida of the Yom Tov season. The Mussar Yeshivot had a similar but different minhag – at Ma’ariv right after Yom Kippur, they would announce that this is the first shemona esrei of the regular year. The two are related. When one appreciates a season of kedusha, he will have a burning desire to continue that inspiration and bring it into the year.
This past year, we learned this lesson the hard way, as the war in Israel and rise in antisemitism definitely made us appreciate something we took for granted before – peace and security. As we close the high spiritual intensity of the past month plus, let us take stock and appreciate our growth in kedusha and closeness to Hashem and our celebration of the Torah. Like the Belz Chasidim at the last tefillah of Simchat Torah, let us use the remainder of this Shabbat to begin thinking about concrete steps to take hold of the inspiration from Tishrei and infuse the kedusha and Torah into our lives this coming year.
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