Dear TBZ Community:
Often we think about the story of Noah as a kind of children’s story: a family building an ark and all the animals of the world peacefully walking, two by two, and a rainbow ending. There are toys and coloring books depicting the story, and of course it wouldn’t be Noah’s ark without the “rise and shine arky arky” song.
But behind the docile animals, the silly song, and the happy ending there is a very dark and painful story.
In Genesis chapter 6:11-13 we read:
וַתִּשָּׁחֵת הָאָרֶץ לִפְנֵי הָאֱלֹהִים וַתִּמָּלֵא הָאָרֶץ חָמָס
The earth became corrupt before God; the earth was filled with lawlessness.
וַיַּרְא אֱלֹהִים אֶת־הָאָרֶץ וְהִנֵּה נִשְׁחָתָה כִּי־הִשְׁחִית כּל־בָּשָׂר אֶת־דַּרְכּוֹ עַל־הָאָרֶץ
When God saw how corrupt the earth was, for all flesh had corrupted its ways on earth
וַיֹּאמֶר אֱלֹהִים לְנֹחַ קֵץ כּל־בָּשָׂר בָּא לְפָנַי כִּי־מָלְאָה הָאָרֶץ חָמָס מִפְּנֵיהֶם וְהִנְנִי מַשְׁחִיתָם אֶת־הָאָרֶץ
God said to Noah, “I have decided to put an end to all flesh, for the earth is filled with lawlessness because of them: I am about to destroy them with the earth.”
God created the world and humankind in God’s image. At the end of creation, God looked at the world and found it very good – וְהִנֵּה־טוֹב מְאֹד (v’hinei tov ma’od). But it doesn’t take long for jealousy and hatred to appear and to rule. And by the end of Noah’s story, God is desperate and is ready to destroy God’s own creation.
Often the question is asked, “why didn’t God destroy everything and start over from scratch?” God could have started a new world with perfect human beings, who love and share, who do not harm each other, but instead God gave another opportunity to human kind by leaving Noah and his family alive. God chose Noah, who was far from perfect, but was the best that could be found in a generation of lawlessness. Perhaps this can be an inspiring teaching for all of us: that one person, not a perfect person, but a person who is called a tzadik, a pious person in their generation, can save humankind. In one person, one simple person, there is the potential for salvation.
Noah’s biblical story has two endings. One that we know and often celebrate, and one that we often avoid speaking about. The easy one is the rainbow ending – קֶּשֶׁת בֶּעָנָן (keshet b’anan) – the commitment that God makes with Noah and with human kind giving a sign.
We read in chapter 9:15-16:
וְזָכַרְתִּי אֶת־בְּרִיתִי אֲשֶׁר בֵּינִי וּבֵינֵיכֶם וּבֵין כּל־נֶפֶשׁ חַיָּה בְּכל־בָּשָׂר וְלֹא־יִהְיֶה עוֹד הַמַּיִם לְמַבּוּל לְשַׁחֵת כּל־בָּשָׂר
I will remember My covenant between Me and you and every living creature among all flesh, so that the waters shall never again become a flood to destroy all flesh.
וְהָיְתָה הַקֶּשֶׁת בֶּעָנָן וּרְאִיתִיהָ לִזְכֹּר בְּרִית עוֹלָם בֵּין אֱלֹהִים וּבֵין כּל־נֶפֶשׁ חַיָּה בְּכל־בָּשָׂר אֲשֶׁר עַל־הָאָרֶץ
When the bow is in the clouds, I will see it and remember the everlasting covenant between God and all living creatures, all flesh that is on earth.
The hard ending comes after the rainbow.
We can imagine that Noah, his sons, and possibly his wife (whom we don’t know much about) walk out from the ark to a world destroyed and waiting to be renewed. And although they are grateful to be alive, although a beautiful rainbow has given them a promise for a brighter future, they are alone in this remade world, and all that they have known has been swept away. I can imagine Noah’s children – who are supposed to now be fruitful and multiply and become the new ancestors to humanity – finding this task too heavy and too hard to hold. They are the survivors of the flood and they are lonely, they are afraid, and they don’t know what the future will hold.
Noah subsequently plants a vineyard, he drinks the wine he creates, and becomes drunk. His son, Ham, sees his nakedness and tells his brothers. They respond and cover their father. Noah wakes up, confused and angry, and he curses Ham.
What does the text mean when it says that Ham saw his father’s nakedness? The rabbis give different interpretations – from Ham sodomizing Noah, to castrating him (Sanhedrin 70a) – perhaps trying to explain the depth of Noah’s anger and curse. But maybe the pshat, the literal meaning of it, says it all: when Ham sees his father’s nakedness, he sees a man stripped bare of everything. He sees a man vulnerable and alone, and there are no promises and no rainbows. Having Ham see his father’s humanity, and his weakness, Noah lashes out.
Why is this story placed here after what feels like a happily-ever-after, rainbow-across-the-sky ending? Perhaps this unhappy ending reveals the fragility of each human being, and that the potential of salvation in the tzadik of his time, can slip all too quickly into a place of desperation, anger, sorrow, pain, and hurt.
As I read this story, I think of the potential for each of us to be a tzadik – a person empowered to bring redemption and salvation – and that each of us can become despairing, angry, and lose sight of our power and our hope. I imagine that rings true for some of us, as individuals and as a collective. In times of so much pain and despair, we hold both. At moments feeling empowered: I can bring change. I know I count, my vote counts, my work for a better future counts. Then, at moments, I fall into despair and question if what I am doing really makes a difference. I don’t know what the future will bring. I don’t always know if the rainbow continues to be the promise for a better future. I imagine that this week especially holds this anxiety for many of us, one of fear for the future of our country, for the future of democracy and one of hope. We also know that regardless of the election results, the time ahead of us will be difficult, as polarization, and hatred dominate so much of the discourse around us.
The parasha (Torah portion) ends with the generations that come after Noah, their children, the children of their children, and all the nations and generations that came after them. Perhaps that is the promise: that future generations will continue to live and to bring change in a messy world. Noah was an ish tamim, a simple man in his generation; he was a tzadik, a pious person who stood above the wickedness of the earth and gave humankind another opportunity. That is the call, to stand above the brokenness, even in our own brokenness, and see the possibility of a better future.
Each of us is Noah. Each one of us counts: our votes count, our deeds count, our efforts count. And when we fall into despair (and we will!), when our weakness and vulnerability is made visible, we don’t give up. The rainbow does not come to say, “everything will be ok, always” (as right after the rainbow, we fail again!) but it says there is possibility of renewal and possibility, in partnership with others and in partnership with God.
May God bring blessing and comfort to all of us and our loved ones. May we find strength, courage, and patience, and open our hearts with generosity. May all those who are ill find healing.
May the hostages soon be returned to their families and friends; may peace prevail and may the leaders of the world know to prioritize life. May those who are working for peace be granted strength and courage to continue their sacred work, and may we soon see peace and dignity for all.
Shabbat Shalom,
Rav Claudia