SALT | Noach 5785

MOTZAEI

Parashat Noach tells the story of the flood and how Noach and his family survived in the ark. This story actually begins at the end of Parashat Bereishit, where the Torah records the birth of Noach and the moral deterioration of the population at the time. There we read not only of Noach's birth, but also of the underlying meaning behind his name: "He [Lemekh, Noach's father] named him Noach, saying, 'This one will provide us relief from our work and from the toil of our hands from the soil which the Lord placed under a curse'" (5:29). "Noach" is derived from the term, "yenachamenu," "will provide us relief," referring to the easing of conditions that took place after Noach's birth. Rashi, citing Chazal, explains that Noach's father prophetically foresaw the technological advancements made during Noach's lifetime that would ease the hardships of agricultural labor. After the curse that resulted from Adam's sin, mankind had to till the soil and labor for food. The grueling work eased with the production of sophisticated agricultural tools during Noach's lifetime.

Wherein lies the significance of all this within the context of the story of Noach and the flood?  Why would the Torah emphasize the lightening of the workload that surfaced during Noach's time?

Rav Avraham Pam zt"l explained that this phenomenon directly impacted the moral standards during this period. The onset of technological advancement meant the sudden emergence of free time. As animals, plowshares, sickles and other agricultural tools substituted time-consuming, backbreaking labor, people came upon spare time. This spare time presented the opportunity for spiritual growth and study. (Chazal write that Noach studied Torah - see Rashi on 7:2. While we do not know precisely what this means, it clearly shows that there was some form of religious scholarship available to mankind during that time.)  Sadly, however, the spare time was misused. People instead used the opportunity to fight, indulge, accumulate luxuries, compete with one another, and pursue pleasure and physical gratification. Only Noach took proper advantage of the extra time provided by the eased working conditions. He pursued spirituality over luxury, piety over indulgence.

This may also explain why specifically Noach was chosen by Providence to bear the name alluding to the lighter workload. Many children were presumably born around the same time; why was it Noach who was named after the new conditions that developed during that period?  Perhaps the Torah seeks to teach us that only Noach represented the proper outlook on free time. If we want to learn how the Torah views comfort and spare time, we should look to Noach, not his contemporaries. If technology and the labor movement has resulted in shorter, fewer and easier workdays, granting us the great gift of free time and spare physical energy, then we must turn to Noach to learn how to use it - for spiritual growth. Otherwise, we run the risk of producing another dor ha-mabul (generation of the flood), when extra time results in crime, excessive indulgence and sin.

SUNDAY

After the flood, Noach dispatches a dove from the ark to see if the land had dried. The Torah tells that "the dove could not find a resting place for its foot, and returned to him to the ark, for there was water over all the earth" (Bereishit 8:9). The Midrash in Eikha Rabba notes that through literary parallel, Benei Yisrael are compared to the dove. Just as the dove "could not find a resting place," so does Megilat Eikha inform us that after the Temple's destruction, "she [the Judean kingdom] found no resting place" (Eikha 1:3). What message does this Midrash seek to convey through this parallel between Am Yisrael in exile and Noach's dove?

Let us first take a look at the complete verse in Eikha to which the Midrash refers: "Judah has gone into exile because of misery and hard oppression; she settled among the nations, but she found no resting place… "  The verse's second clause implies that Am Yisrael searched for a resting place in exile "among the nations," but found none. The Yalkut ha-Gershuni explains that this verse describes Am Yisrael's attempt to deal with exile by "settling among the nations" - by acculturating within the gentile society around them. The results of this attempt are described in the concluding clause of the verse: "all her pursuers overtook her in the narrow places."  When Benei Yisrael cross the line dividing between them and other faiths, they bring upon themselves only more grief, sorrow and oppression. A search for a "resting place" in the abandonment of tradition in favor of assimilation is doomed to failure.

Bearing in mind this interpretation of the verse in Eikha, we can now take another look at the Midrash's comparison between Am Yisrael and Noach's dove. The dove found no resting place on earth and therefore returned to Noach in the ark; realizing it had no other alternative, the dove went back to the only safe haven available to it. Perhaps the Midrash seeks to teach Benei Yisrael to do the same. Upon seeing that we have no "resting place" in foreign cultures and beliefs, we must return home to our safe heaven, to our "Noah's Ark" - our life of Torah and mitzvot. If the dove understood that its only safe refuge is back in the ark, that it has nowhere to rest outside the ark, then so must Benei Yisrael realize that our only hope lies in our tradition and heritage. The rest of the world, as far as Benei Yisrael are concerned, is covered by ravaging floodwaters; we must therefore return to our source, to our origins, and there will we find our true "resting place."

MONDAY

Amidst the Torah's presentation of the lineage of Noach's children, we find a digression into the personality of Nimrod, a grandson of Cham (one of Noach's sons): "Cush [Cham's son] begot Nimrod, who was the first man of might on earth. He was a mighty hunter by the grace of the Lord; hence the saying, 'Like Nimrod a mighty hunter by the grace of the Lord'" (10:8-9). Rashi interprets this description as a reference to Nimrod's rebelliousness against God and efforts to disseminate heretical ideas; others, like the Ramban and Seforno, understand these verses as describing his military might and conquest of lands. In any event, why would the Torah elaborate on this figure?  Recall that in this section of Chumash the Torah merely lists the names of Noach's descendants; only Nimrod earns special recognition. Why?

One simple answer might emerge in light of the many Midrashim that implicate Nimrod as the instigator of the incident of migdal Bavel (the tower of Babel) that immediately follows this genealogical record. According to Chazal, it was Nimrod who initiated and oversaw the construction of the tower. If so, then the Torah perhaps introduces or at least foreshadows the events of migdal Bavel by briefly digressing into the personality of Nimrod. These verses, which describe either his commitment to heresy (Rashi) or his power over other peoples (Ramban & Seforno), provide us with the information necessary to properly understand the incident of migdal Bavel.

However, the Torah itself draws no association between Nimrod and the tower of Bavel. If the elaboration on Nimrod served mainly to introduce the story of migdal Bavel, we would expect to find a much clearer and more explicit connection between them.

The Chafetz Chayim zt"l ("Mikhtavei Chafetz Chayim," 39, cited in "Likutei Chafetz Chayim al ha-Torah") suggests a different approach, identifying within this description of Nimrod a critical and eternally relevant lesson. To understand the significance behind these two verses, we must read ahead two more verses: "From that land Ashur went forth and built Nineveh… "  Rashi explains: "Once Ashur saw that his children listened to Nimrod and rebelled against the Almighty, he left them."  Despite Nimrod's growing sphere of influence and large following, there remained dissenters who refused to go along with him. Nimrod controlled much of the world, but not everyone. Ashur heroically defied Nimrod and left to establish his own kingdom, one that remained loyal to God (at least for several centuries; much later in history, of course, Ashur became one of Am Yisrael's fiercest enemies and ranked among the foremost promoters of idolatry). The Chafetz Chaim suggested that herein lies the eternal significance of Nimrod's success: it did not fool everyone. Regardless of how large his empire grew, of how much power, wealth and prestige Nimrod achieved, of the extent to which he established theological and cultural norms on an international scale, there remained dissenters. The Chafetz Chaim proceeded to apply this lesson to his own times, when the growing success and influence of secularism became its own greatest asset. It was hard to defy a movement that had become so popular and gained such widespread acceptance among European Jewry. The Chafetz Chaim bid his followers to learn the lesson of Ashur, who refused to submit to Nimod's overwhelming power, and remained steadfast in his devotion to truth.

TUESDAY

After the flood and Noach's exit from the ark, God promises never again to bring a flood to destroy the earth. He then adds, "So long as the earth endures, seedtime and harvest, cold and heat, summer and winter, day and night shall not cease" (Bereishit 8:22). As Rashi explains, the sequence of seasons had been halted during the deluge; God now pledges to fully restore and forever maintain the seasonal structure as dictated by the laws of nature.

One subtlety in this verse is noted by Rav Yosef Shaul Nathanson, in his "Divrei Shaul."  He points out that in listing the various natural phenomena that will be restored, the verse lists "day" before "night" - "yom va-layla." Rav Nathanson draws support from this otherwise innocuous arrangement for a position among the Acharonim that before Matan Torah, the halakhic "day" (meaning, 24-hour period) began in the morning, rather than in the evening. Generally, halakha views the "day" as beginning in the evening; hence, we begin our observance of the tenth of Tishrei (Yom Kippur), for example, at sundown. A famous argument among the Acharonim (generally ascribed to the Sefer ha-Makneh) maintains that before the Torah was given, the halakhic "day" began with sunrise in the morning, rather than with the onset of night, as it does after Matan Torah. The sequence in this verse, Rav Nathanson claims, appears to corroborate this argument, as it places "day" before "night."

Rav Nathanson continues by assessing this distinction between before and after Matan Torah. Why would the starting-point of the halakhic "day" change with the giving of the Torah?  He suggests that this transition involves the new calendar system introduced to Benei Yisrael - the lunar calendar, as opposed to the solar calendar followed by other peoples. As Benei Yisrael's calendar arrangement is based on the moon, rather than the sun, for them the moon, or nighttime, assumes greater importance that does the sun, or daytime. We therefore begin our "day" at nighttime, when the moon shines, the critical period in our arrangement of time.

But why did the Almighty ordain that we follow the "nighttime" system, rather than the "daytime" arrangement?

Rav Nathanson answers based on Chazal's comment, "The night was created only for study."  Traditionally (though obviously things have changed with the advent of electric lighting), people worked only during the daytime hours. In Chazal's view, nighttime provided the opportunity for spiritual pursuits, for Torah study. The lunar calendar system is perhaps intended to underscore the primacy of "nighttime" from a Torah perspective. If the daytime represents our pursuit of a livelihood and nighttime represents our pursuit of spirituality, then the unique importance of nighttime, as reflected by the lunar calendar, represents the centrality we must afford to our spiritual endeavors.

Even if quantitatively we must spend more hours involved in earning a living than in Torah and mitzvot, our general mindset and attitude must not be determined accordingly. Our religious responsibilities must constitute our primary concern, even if circumstances warrant devoting the bulk of our day to material pursuits.

WEDNESDAY

In a famous passage, Rashi, commenting on the opening verse of Parashat Noach, cites two views among the Sages as to the Torah's assessment of Noach. The Torah calls Noach a "righteous man" who "was blameless in his age." According to one position, the verse's final clause indicates that Noach achieved greatness despite the time period in which he lived, which was characterized by moral depravity and corruption. A second interpretation, however, understands this clause as qualifying Noach's piety: only in his generation was Noach considered righteous; "were he to have to lived in Avraham's generation, he would not have been considered anything."

Later scholars have attempted to explain both sides of this debate, while others have tried to reconcile the two opinions, to show that they in fact do not argue with one another. One such attempt was made by Rav Shlomo Yosef Zevin, in his "le-Torah u-le-Mo'adim."  He notes a subtle shift in Rashi's wording as he proceeds from the first position to the second. In the first, Rashi writes, "If he [Noach] was in a generation of tzadikim [righteous people], he would have been even more righteous." Citing the second position, which interprets the verse as qualifying Noach's righteousness, Rashi writes, "Were he to have to lived in Avraham's generation, he would not have been considered anything."  Why does Rashi first refer to "a generation of tzadikim" and thereafter to "Avraham's generation"?

Rav Zevin explains that, as evidenced from several verses and Midrashic passages, Noach, unlike Avraham, did not have the capacity to save his generation. Far more reserved and private than Avraham, Noach salvaged himself and his family, saving them from the iniquitous trends of the time, but could do no more; he could not impact upon his contemporaries. Avraham, by contrast, was a vibrant public figure who taught, led and guided people wherever he went, preaching the truth of monotheism. Thus, in a generation of tzadikim, Noach would have been considered even more righteous; we would not have held against him this inability to inspire his surroundings, since his contemporaries would have been already righteous. In Avraham's generation, however, he would not have been considered anything. Given Avraham's activity in proselytizing, Noach, in spite of his piety, would be clearly identified as non-influential. His stature would thus be dwarfed by the towering figure of Avraham Avinu.

Thus, these two opinions are essentially a single viewpoint concerning Noach. According to both views, Noach failed in that he could not yield sufficient positive influence on the sinful people around him. In this sense, then, he pales in comparison to Avraham Avinu, who worked tirelessly to inspire his generation and guide them along the path of ethical conduct and Godliness.

THURSDAY

Parashat Noach begins with the words, "Eileh toledot Noach" - "This is the line [or, these are the generations] of Noach… " We would naturally expect the verse to continue with a genealogical record of Noach's offspring. Instead, the Torah discusses Noach's virtues: "Noach was a righteous man… " Only in the next verse do we read of Noach's three sons. One might have explained that the interim clause, which reports Noach's piety, is to be viewed as a parenthetical statement, as if it had been written, "This is the line of Noach - who was a righteous man… - Noach begot three sons… " (This is the approach taken by the Jewish Publication Society's translation.)  The Midrash (Tanchuma Yashan), however, explains differently. It reads the verse to mean that Noach's "line" or "offspring" was the very fact that "Noach was a righteous man."  The Midrash cites the verse from Mishlei (11:30), "The fruit of the righteous is a tree of life," and explains "tree of life" as a reference to Torah (based on Mishlei 3:18). The fruit, or product, the primary contribution of a tzadik, is "etz chayim" - the Torah he studies and the mitzvot he performs. The Midrash notes that although Noach effectively fathered all of humanity after the deluge, nevertheless the Torah identifies his piety as his greatest legacy, his primary "toledot" - offspring.

The message of this Midrash is clear: one's legacy or contribution to mankind cannot be determined solely by his concrete accomplishments, such as the offspring he leaves. The Midrash in fact states that the Almighty tells those who die without begetting children, "I have a fruit much greater than children," referring to the Torah. One leaves behind not only a family, but the many good deeds he performed and religious accomplishments he achieved. Rav Yissachar Frand added in one of his lectures that people often excuse themselves from certain religious duties on the grounds that their children will fulfill those obligations on their behalf, as it were. Less than acceptable standards are sometimes deemed justified by the claim of sacrifice on behalf of children, who will themselves pursue a higher religious standard. This Midrash teaches that one must personally produce the "fruit" of Torah and mitzvot; as critically important as child-rearing is in Jewish life, it does not exempt one from his personal obligations.

It is noteworthy that a certain irony exists in the fact that the Midrash seeks to convey this message specifically through the personage of Noach. As discussed briefly yesterday, many commentators, based on Midrashim, portray Noach as a private, even secluded person. As opposed to Avraham, who was actively engaged in public life and worked tirelessly to spread the message of ethical monotheism to his pagan contemporaries, Noach worked mainly to protect himself and his family. His public activity was limited or perhaps even non-existent. The Meshekh Chokhma, commenting on this parasha, describes how Noach engaged in "hitbodedut" - some sort of meditation, rather than involving himself in public life in an attempt to impact upon his surroundings.

Yet, the Midrash points to Noach's mitzvot as his greatest legacy. Although his direct religious influence upon the world around him was minimal, we may nevertheless consider his spiritual greatness his most significant accomplishment. This Midrash thus perhaps emphasizes the inherent value and worth of Torah and mitzvot, regardless of the tangible impact it has on the world. We might find it hard to understand how placing tefillin on our arms and heads can contribute to mankind, how we can see that and other religious rituals as our primary legacy. But, as the Midrash stresses, "peri tzadik etz chayim" - our commitment to Torah and mitzvot indeed constitutes our major achievement. It hopefully goes without saying that this idea in no way undermines the value or importance of community involvement, charity, care and concern for others, and, of course, raising children. It does, however, remind us that we can influence the world even in ways that are not necessarily clear and obvious. Even the Torah studied and mitzvot performed in isolation have a profound impact on God's world.

FRIDAY

The opening verse in Parashat Noach describes the parasha's protagonist, Noach, as an "ish tzadik" (righteous man) as well as "tamim," a term that denotes perfection, or completeness. How exactly was Noach "tamim"?

Various interpretations have been offered, among them Rashi's approach in his commentary to Masekhet Avoda Zara 6a. Rashi there translates "tamim" as "anav u-shfal ru'ach" - humble and unassuming. Why would the Torah make a point of specifying this particular trait of Noach - his humility?

We can perhaps better understand Rashi's approach by first considering the entire clause in which the word "tamim" appears: "tamim haya be-dorotav" - Noach was "tamim" in his age, or in his generation. As we discussed earlier this week, one view in the Gemara explains this clause as underscoring Noach's greatness, that even in a wicked generation he managed to achieve high levels of righteousness. Rather than falling prey to the influences of moral depravity exerted upon him by his surroundings, Noach remained firm to his convictions and beliefs and became a tzadik. "Tamim," therefore, might relate to this specific quality of Noach, his ability to withstand the tide of corruption that had engulfed mankind during his lifetime.

Perhaps in this light we can understand Rashi's interpretation of this term. To resist the influence of widespread evil, one needs genuine humility. The Netziv, in his commentary to Bemidbar 12:3 (which we cited this past year in our S.A.L.T. series to Parashat Beha'alotekha), explains humility not as an inferior self-image, but rather the disinterest in flaunting one's accomplishments. Refusing to acknowledge one's achievements and success is not humility, but falsehood. The humble person is aware of his greatness but does not look for recognition on the part of others. In effect, then, humility means focusing on who one is, and not on who others think he is. It makes no difference to the humble person how others view him; what interests him is doing what is right and becoming the person he should become, not his image in the eyes of other people.

Only with this quality could Noach have become a tzadik in his generation. If he lived with a constant, self-conscious concern of how others viewed him, he could never have remained loyal to his beliefs. He would not have had the strength the oppose the corruption and lawlessness of the time. He resisted the influence of his generation only through his humility, by concerning himself with doing the right thing and ignoring how others looked at him. Thus, "tamim haya be-dorotav" - Noach was humble in his generation. This is how he became a tzadik during an age of widespread depravity - by being "anav u-shfal ru'ach," by focusing on his conduct, and not on his image.

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