Our Gemara on Amud Beis discusses the halacha that fish are not subject to the requirement of shechitta (ritual slaughter).

The Zohar (Tikkunei Zohar 59b and III:278b Ra’ya Mhemna) compares Talmidei Chachamim to fish. They need the water of Torah to survive, and also have a certain purity that exempts them from the vicissitudes of the Angel of Death (represented by shechitta.)

It’s not just the Zohar that equates the sages to fish. The Gemara Avodah Zara (3b) also compares Torah sages to fish, for the same reason — Torah is their water. There is a wonderful Gemara (Berachos 61b) based on this theme, featuring Rabbi Akiva and his heroic refusal to stop teaching Torah, despite it leading inevitably to his martyrdom:

“The Sages taught: One time, after the bar Kokheva rebellion, the evil empire of Rome decreed that Israel may not engage in the study and practice of Torah. Pappos ben Yehuda came and found Rabbi Akiva, who was convening assemblies in public and engaging in Torah study. Pappos said to him: Akiva, are you not afraid of the empire?”

“Rabbi Akiva answered him: I will relate a parable. To what can this be compared? It is like a fox walking along a riverbank when he sees fish gathering and fleeing from place to place.”

“The fox said to them: From what are you fleeing?”

“They said to him: We are fleeing from the nets that people cast upon us.”

“He said to them: Do you wish to come up onto dry land, and we will reside together just as my ancestors resided with your ancestors?”

“The fish said to him: You are the one of whom they say, he is the cleverest of animals? You are not clever; you are a fool. If we are afraid in the water, our natural habitat which gives us life, then in a habitat that causes our death, all the more so.”

“The moral is: So too, we Jews, now that we sit and engage in Torah study, about which it is written: “For that is your life, and the length of your days” (Deuteronomy 30:20), we fear the empire to this extent; if we proceed to sit idle from its study, as its abandonment is the habitat that causes our death, all the more so will we fear the empire.”

While this parable story makes its point about the necessity of Torah for Jewish survival, I want to focus on one striking line: The fox says to the fish, “As my ancestors lived with your ancestors.” Rabbi Akiva takes it for granted that there was an earlier, perhaps primordial era, in which land and sea creatures shared the same realm.

What is that all about? A close idea to this is Darwin’s theory of Evolution: Life began in water and gradually developed greater complexity, eventually branching onto land. Rabbi Akiva, of course, did not “believe in evolution,” nor did his Hellenistic contemporaries, because the idea did not exist yet. So what was this phenomenon?

The ancients were keen observers of nature. Perhaps they encountered fossils of strange creatures or perceived deep patterns in biology. Separate from the theory of evolution, clearly forms of life follow a pattern of progression from simple to more complex, yet using similar structures from DNA to organs. Indeed, jellyfish and humans share over 60% of the same DNA; chimpanzees and humans, about 98%.

The very similarity of all life forms suggests a developmental process. If you saw a lump of wool, a woven swatch and then a garment, you would get the impression that all of these objects progressed one from the other.

Koheles Rabbah (3:11) alludes to a similar notion of divine process:

“The Holy One, Blessed be He, created worlds and destroyed them, created and destroyed, until He created this one and declared: ‘These please Me.’”

There is a pattern in creation that is part of a continuous development, as are our bodies and our soul. It’s not about evolution as in a heretical explanation for life on earth, but about a process of evolution that is built in.

And then there is Entelechy: the internal force that guides something toward its telos, its destined form. This idea reflects a deeper understanding of Divine providence as not just commanding outcomes but shaping the unfolding development of reality because of the pure truth of it that resides within God.

Everything, from quarks to consciousness, emanates from Divine will and intellect. Just as a child matures through stages, so too the world evolves spiritually and intellectually toward greater awareness of God. In a Maimonidean sense, greater intellect means not just knowledge but the refinement of character and emotional balance (middos).

The Moreh Nevuchim (I:72) articulates this idea beautifully:

“You must consider the entire globe as one individual being endowed with life, motion, and a soul… This view is indispensable for demonstrating the unity of God…”

“In man, there is a force which unites and sustains the body. The universe likewise possesses a force which unites its parts, protects species, and maintains balance… But while man’s soul is immanent, God is separate and transcendent.”

“God’s rule and providence can be demonstrated in every part of creation, even the smallest. Praised be He, whose perfection is above our comprehension.”

The Rambam envisions a living cosmos whose unity is a reflection of its Creator’s Oneness. The soul is to the body as God is to the cosmos. And in that sense, the whole of existence is a process.