Noah
Genesis 6:9-11:32
Isaiah 54:1-55:5
Although Noah is portrayed as the savior of humanity and of the animal dominion, rabbinic literature concentrates on his failings and foibles: Noah was a simple soul who did nothing on his own initiative; he was indifferent to the destruction of civilization; he seemed unconcerned about friends, neighbors, extended family members, brothers, sisters and in-laws who perished in the flood.
Noah never bargained for civilization by asking God to cancel the decree of destruction if 10 righteous people could be found, as a conscious-stricken Abraham had done (Genesis 18:23-25). Noah was an alcoholic; Noah was uncommunicative and never spoke a word until awaking from his drunken stupor, when he cursed his son Ham. Thus, what little he had to say, he said with profanity; the incident with Ham is thought to have involved a sexual boundary violation that branded Noah a sexual deviant. Noah’s name means “rest.” Yet there is no evidence that he ever did anything to rest or relax or serve his inner needs.
Noah is the archetype of docility and blind trust. But there is an occasional commentary that takes up Noah’s cause. Rabbi Yosi, for example, claimed that Noah tried, to no avail, to persuade his contemporaries to turn from their evil ways (Sanhedrin 108a). Furthermore, a closer reading of this week’s Torah portion reveals that Noah was well thought of by the biblical author. There he is described as “a righteous man; he was blameless in his age; Noah walked with God” (Genesis 6:9).
Trying to be objective, it can be said that there was nothing extraordinary or heroic about Noah. Neither bright nor courageous, Noah was an ordinary, decent, honest man who tried to do the best he could especially in light of how corrupt the rest of the society around him was. He was not a martyr or trailblazer. When called upon, he did his duty but nothing more. Nevertheless, God chose Noah as His companion and began the human experiment all over again with a new idea — a compact, a covenant (called the seven Noahide laws) that serves as a guidepost for the most basic human behavior. This concept was later expanded at Mount Sinai when Moses received the morally superior Ten Commandments.
For all Noah’s deficiencies and lack of strength, God still chose Noah as a walking companion, his silent partner who reminded him that though he might occasionally stumble and not rise to greatness, still God was with him. This metaphor is repeated on a number of occasions. For example, Abraham is instructed, “Walk before Me” (Genesis 17:1). Of course, the most well-known illustration is that of Psalm 23, which reminds a reader that God leads ordinary people beside still waters: “Yea, though I walk in the valley of the shadow of death, I will fear no evil, /For Thou art with me…”
Noah, neither saint nor sinner, serves as the reminder that no one is perfect in a world that is imperfect. Noah is the model for the ordinary man and woman — not often called to greatness but whom God accompanies. There was nothing heroic about Noah except that he was a good person in a corrupt world.
Every generation has its Noahs, ordinary people who do their duty, who occasionally have greatness thrust upon them. Andre Schwarz-Bart’s moving book, “The Last of the Just,” is based on the legend of the lamed-vov. These Hebrew letters represent the numerical equivalent of 36, which totals the number of righteous individuals who, unknown to themselves or to anyone else, enable the world to continue to exist because of their simple, unpretentious righteous deeds.
Imagine what the world would be like if everyone was like Noah and did what was right and thought that there was nothing unusual about his actions. Imagine what the world would be like if everyone thought that he might be speaking with a person designated by God as a chosen lamed-vovnik. We certainly would live our lives differently.
Many have served their fellow human beings oblivious to their mission and summons. The Baal Shem Tov, founder of the Chassidic movement, echoed this sentiment when he said, “The coming of the Messiah does not depend upon anything supernatural, rather it depends upon human growth and self-transformation. The world will only be transformed when people realize that the Messiah is not someone other than themselves.”
There are usually no long obituaries in newspapers for such people and their passing, like their lives, is often unnoticed by most others. But, like Noah, the righteous man who walked with God, they are remembered for simple deeds and honestly lived lives. When we look at such people, may we look carefully enough to see God walking along side them!