What do we think of when we hear the word “cosmos”? For people of my generation, we cannot help but think of Carl Sagan, narrator of the acclaimed PBS series entitled “Cosmos”, who was widely imitated as talking about “bullions and bullions of stars.” And indeed if someone said, “Look upon the cosmos” our natural response would be to look up at the stars in the sky or at least at the immensity of the natural world.

That being said, this reflects a misunderstanding of the word “cosmos.” The cosmos is not a collection of physical objects—even an infinite collection of enormous objects. Cosmos is, rather, a mental construct, an attitude or understanding of the order imposed upon (or, for the true believer, intrinsic to) that physical universe. As the great comparative mythologian Mircea Eliade explained, people “perpetually recreate… the building and maintenance of a cosmos.” That is to say, they impose some sort of order on the world that makes sense to them, through which they can make sense of the world. And then, through a series of rituals, ceremonies, and practices, they reinforce that order.

As Jews, we declare and reinforce our cosmos every single day through our prayers. Before we begin our daily praise of G-d, we recite a prayer that outlines our perspective on the cosmos—Baruch she’amar. It goes like this:

Blessed is the one by whose speech the world came to be. Blessed is He.
Blessed is the one who creates everything.
Blessed is the One who creates by speaking.
Blessed is the One who sustains by decreeing.
Blessed is the One who has mercy on the Earth.
Blessed is the One who has mercy on all creatures.
Blessed is the One who reward those who fear Him.
Blessed is the One who lives forever and endures for all eternity.
Blessed is the One who saves by redeeming. Blessed is His name.

So what does our cosmos look like? It is a place where the spoken word (Divine, and by implication human also) has nearly infinite creative power. Ongoing existence is functionally a declaration, and a very specific declaration at that: it is a declaration that mercy is the dominant force in the universe. Those who stand in respectful relation to the Divine force—the One true Divine force—will be rewarded (Note: in ways unspecified, not necessarily a trip to Disneyworld). For all that might change, one thing (or perhaps better, One thing) will not change—the Creator, Who was there before the beginning and will be there after the end. And, finally, the high point of our cosmos: the One is a redeemer. [Note: This is echoed by the first of the Ten Commandments, referencing G-d “who brought you out of the land of Egypt….]. Hence, immoral deviations such as slavery are ultimately doomed to fail under the unremitting pressure of a universe consistent with the assertion of cosmic mercy.

Note: All that in 38 words (in Hebrew). Talk about packing a powerful poetic punch!

One last note: there is a kabbalistic custom of holding the two front tzitzit together as this prayer is recited, symbolizing the ultimate unity of heaven and earth. We were there, once, when the world was created. We can be there again once we “recreate, build and maintain” our cosmic understanding “with all our heart, all our soul, and all our might.”