Love Can Overcome Differences

Parshat Noach

by Rabbi Avi Billet

 All Harry Potter fans know that Lily Potter gave her life for her son, and what saved his life in his various encounters with the villain of the series (who must not be named) is Love.

 The theme of Love was also the savior in Madeleine L’Engle’s “A Wrinkle in Time” when minds and destinies were to be lost and destroyed were it not for love.

 I am sure this theme is recast in many forms in countless successful books.

 But it seems far removed from the tale of Noach, in a story in which it might have played a critical role. 

Only One True TZADDIK in His Generation

Parshat Noach

by Rabbi Avi Billet

When we are introduced to Noach at the beginning of the parsha, Rashi notes that his being called a “tzaddik” (righteous man) – “in his generation” could be interpreted either positively or negatively. Positively, had Noach lived in another generation, he’d have been even greater. Negatively, only because he was compared to such terrible people was Noach considered great in his day.

                

But honestly, I don’t understand the question. The Torah does say in the first verse of Chapter 7, “And God said to Noach, ‘Come with your family to the Ark, because I see you to be a tzaddik before Me in this generation.’”

                

Perhaps this verse can also be read both ways, but I think the more correct reading is “You are unique in your time.” But not in a different generation.

                

Why is this language used?

                

The Or HaChaim explains that Noach needed to be reminded that he was the tzaddik in comparison to the people of his generation, because maybe Noach would think to bring a whole bunch of people on board – people he felt were not deserving of punishment, when indeed they were not innocent.

                

Don’t we all have friends we’d want to save if we were making a boat big enough to hold dozens of people, if not more?

This is why, Or HaChaim suggests, Noach needed to be told to bring his family. Even they were unworthy of being saved. They were only brought on board because they were his family. “Because you are the (only) tzaddik I see in this generation.”

                

The midrash (which Rashi also quotes) goes in a different direction when it claims this is a demonstration of God not saying Noach’s complete praise in front of him (earlier he was called a “tzaddik tamim” – a perfect righteous man – when the Torah introduced him, but he was not being personally addressed).

                

Kli Yakar raises a different possibility, that two events transpired which brought God to say this to Noach. Firstly, after 120 years of Ark construction, it was apparent that no one was repenting. Secondly, there had been one other righteous person, Noach’s grandfather Metushelach (Methuselah), who passed away right before God’s declaration to Noach that he is the only righteous person alive today. Kli Yakar even suggests the declaration came after Noach’s 7 days of mourning (his father had died 5 years earlier, leaving him as the sole mourner for his grandfather), because there was a thought that people who witnessed the death and mourning over the righteous Metushelach would be inspired to return to God. Of course, this didn’t happen.

                

Kli Yakar returns to his interpretation from the end of Chapter 6, that Noach was immune to the temptation of robbery, which is what the Torah claims brought about the flood.

                

And while this is certainly an admirable trait of Noach – perhaps even a divine trait in his day – this is the type of thing that is no outstanding accomplishment in a world where people understand that what is mine is mine and what is your is yours until currency and therefore ownership exchanges hands.

                

It is certainly possible that had Noach lived in another time he would have been an amazing man. But the focus in our verse (7:1) seems to pinpoint his specific generation. And if indeed he had no friends worthy of being saved, and not even his family to save were it not for his own merit, then he was unique in his own time.

                

Was there ever a time when there were bad people when there were not good people as well? Was there ever a time when there was only one person who lived in a moral high ground?

                

God has the right to judge all the persons of the world. He made them. They owe their lives to him. But we who all sin through the year, who all experience Yom Kippur, are not Noachs, not in our generation nor in any generation.

                

Kohelet (7:20) said, “There is no human tzaddik in the land who does good but does not sin.” It seems in this sense, that Noach was very unique. We have the benefit of thousands of years of distance, tradition, and commentary to look at Noach however we want to. We can read the verses one way and say he never sinned. We can read them another way and say he was nothing to write home about.

                

In our generation, obviously, sins, in the eyes of man, are by degree. Some are the type people shrug off, some merely raise eyebrows, and some are viewed as heinous and despicable. Opinions are always going to be formed about the actions of others. But before we publish our opinions or scream from the top of the mountain, we need to ask ourselves how self-righteous we really are.

                

“I may not be perfect but I’m better than that person.” I don’t defend sins of a religious nature, and certainly not of a criminal nature. But I wonder how many people who rush to defame sinners would stand the Noach test – Noach who had not a single friend or family member who merited to be saved from the flood, were it not for his merit in his generation.

Envisioning A New World

Parshat Noach

The contrast between the beginning of the book of Bereshit and our parsha is not only striking in terms of God's vision for the world, but is even fascinating to compare on a textual level.

After completing creation, "And God saw all that He had done, and behold it was very good." (1:31) Compare that to the beginning of Chapter 6, "Hashem saw that man's wickedness on earth was increasing. Every impulse of his innermost thought was only for evil, all day long." (6:5)

            

Unlike the optimism that came with God's declarations of "Let there be light" (1:3) and "Let us make Man" (1:26), we see, "Hashem regretted that He had made man on earth, and He was pained to His very core. Hashem said, 'I will obliterate humanity that I have created from the face of the earth - man, livestock, land animals, and birds of the sky. I regret that I created them.'" (6:6-7)

            

[A very lively conversation can be had over the usages of "Elokim" (which I translate in verses as "God") and the "shem havaya" Tetragrammaton (which I translate in verse as "Hashem"). In the interest of space, that conversation will be ignored now, beyond noting it in the translation.]

            

Despite the regret over the creation of Man, God chooses to rebuild the world not with a new, perhaps more perfect model of humans, but with one specific human who "has found favor in God's eyes." (6:8)

            

In other words, the prototype seems to be what God wants. It's just the wrongly mutated models which have caused God to "regret" the first 1650 (or so) years of human endeavor.

            

Like Adam, Noach had 3 sons who are named in the Torah. Unlike the terms "Adam" (human) and "Basar" (flesh) which are used to describe the flawed human beings (6:6,13), Noach is called an "Ish" (6:9, 9:20) – the same term used to describe Adam when he is first introduced to his wife – before any sinning had taken place. "She will be called 'Ishah' (woman) for she had been taken from 'Ish' (man)." (2:23) "Ish," it seems, is a better kind of human than an Adam or a Basar.

            

The difference between Noach's world and the world of Adam, however is laid out in how the world is described and what God sees and says.

            

In the beginning the land was empty and void with the spirit of God hovering over the water's surface. God said, "Let there be light" and it was, and God saw the light was good. (summary of 1:1-4)

            

In Noach's time, "… The land was filled with crime. God saw the world, and it was corrupted. All flesh had perverted its way on the earth. God said to Noah, 'The end of all flesh has come before Me. The world is filled with [man's] crime. I will therefore destroy them with the earth…'" (6:11-13)

            

Which world would be the ideal? The world with the spirit of God hovering, or a crime-ridden corrupt world? The world where God says "Let there be light" or where God says, "The end of all flesh has come?" The world in which God sees light and calls it Good, or one in which God sees a corrupt world on account of the acts of Basar – all made-of-flesh beings – which must be darkened and destroyed so a new effort by a man described as being righteous could begin?

            

There are different reasons why new beginnings might come about. A child is born – the child did not exist before, it has a clean slate and a world of opportunity before it. What life it will have will be determined by its parents and by what Rabbi Joseph B. Soloveitchik called the "Covenantal Community" in which it is raised.

            

A person or family move to a new community or are the pioneers in creating a new community, they have a tremendous opportunity to build a world that follows the ideal of the sprit of God hovering, in which the focus is on creating light, and making a very clear division between light and darkness.

            

And sometimes a new beginning comes about because what has happened in the past has brought a person to the pits of despair. An addiction, a bad breakup, a divorce, a death, being fired from a job, being frustrated with a spiritually empty life and returning to God, the pursuit of materialism turned to a pursuit of meaning in life.

            

Both beginnings bring a tremendous potential. They begin with similar qualities.

            

But the role a person plays in either beginning has a tremendous impact on whether the endeavor will be successful or not. Adam and Chava ate from a tree and threw their potential into the wind. They produced two sons, one of which died at the hands of his murderous brother, who himself was banished to a life of wandering. They only seemed to get real "nachas" from their third son, an ancestor of Noach.

            

Noach also had three sons – and while they did not kill one another, they too had the opportunity to follow their father's footsteps for good – and he seemed to only be successful with two out of three.

            

Despite all our best efforts, nothing is perfect. But everything has potential. Our challenge is to tap into the potential for good in every person and opportunity. And hopefully, with God's help, we can build a world that God can look down upon and say, "It is very good."

In Defense of Noach

Parshat Noach

by Rabbi Avi Billet

Of all the Biblical heroes, those we might call the "good guys," Noach gets the worst rap. When we are first introduced to him, we are told he was a tzaddik (righteous man) "in his generation." Rashi famously pounces on the added term, suggesting that he was a good guy in his generation alone, but had he lived in the generation of Avraham, he would not have been a person of significance.

Some further note that Noach never prayed for, or interceded on behalf of the people of his generation, in any manner similar to Avraham's protests on behalf of the doomed inhabitants of Sodom (see Rabbenu Bachaye on 6:14, for example). He may have taken his time building the ark, but as Bill Cosby noted in his popular "Noah" routine, if people asked him why he was building the ark, his response did not exactly inspire repentance (as is indicated by Rashi's "'Perhaps' they'd repent" in 6:14).

The Midrash Rabba compares the Torah's depiction of Noach to how it depicts Moshe. Noach starts as an "Ish Tzaddik" - a righteous man (6:9), but is last depicted as an "Ish Ha'Adamah" - a man of the earth (9:20). While being a man of the earth is not particularly a bad thing, it seems to be a step down from his original status. And once one considers that the epithet comes even after he has offered sacrifices to his God, the evidence is reproving in his disfavor.

Moshe, on the other hand, is depicted in his early days as an "Ish Mitzri" - an Egyptian man (Shmot 2:19), while at the end of his life he is called an "Ish Ha'Elokim" - a man of God (Devarim 33:1). His life seems to be a progression to greater holiness.

These critiques may reflect personality traits of Noach. He listened to God's instructions, but did not have the wherewithal to confront or inspire people, or to teach them to be more Godly. He may have been a tzaddik when others were around, but maybe the same personality trait did not hold water when Noach is the "only" human being around (aside from his immediate family) after the flood.

While I can not defend Noach against these accusations, I would like to share a defense pointed out by the Kli Yakar, which adds to Noach's esteem even beyond the Torah's "And Noach found favor in God's eyes." (6:8)  

Towards the end of Chapter 6, God tells Noach, "And you will take for yourself of all kinds of edible foods. You will gather it to you. And it will be food for you and for [the animals]." (6:21)

Says the Kli Yakar: "Taking for yourself implies 'from your own and not from the [food] of others.' This was to remind Noach not to think that just because everyone else will die soon and will have no need for their money or property, that everything in the world was available to him for the taking." The miracle, he explains, is that Noach's personal rations – from what he personally owned – sufficed for all those on the ark, man and beast, for one year.

This is quite significant. Noach is living in a time in which "Chamas" – robbery – is rampant. The fact that this does not even register as a possibility for him, he being the only one who understands that God will be destroying the world, and how truly "you can't take it with you" applied to the people of his generation, is a remarkable trait for a person living in that time period.

Think about it. Adam and Chava "stole" from the tree from which they were forbidden to eat. The Slonimer Rebbe (Nesivos Shalom) points out a remarkable difference between the offerings of Kayin and Hevel, that Kayin brought from "the fruit of the earth" (4:3) while Hevel brought from "the best of his sheep" (4:4). The source of Hevel's offering was his own property! Kayin's offering may not have been "his!" It may have been stolen!

Noach did not descend from Kayin. Nonetheless it is noteworthy how the concept of taking "that which does not belong to you" is a flaw which afflicted even the first humans on earth. But Noach overcame, and did not have that temptation. This allowed him to even hold back from taking from those who would never miss it.

The message is simple. Noach is a tzaddik in the first part of the parsha because he never let money, or the pursuit of money, get in the way of his relationship with God and other human beings. Any food ultimately brought aboard the ark was either grown by him or purchased honestly.

It takes a big man to go against the grain. Particularly in a society when everyone is stealing because "everyone else does," it is the truly righteous who steps back and says, "I don't. Because stealing is wrong."

By the end of the account of Noach in the Torah, he does not enjoy the same status as he did at the beginning of his tale. But his moral stance should continue to inspire all of us. Unlike many who choose to do the wrong thing following the bad example of others (like, say, double parking on a busy street that has one lane in each direction), who justify their behavior because "everyone does it," Noach set a standard that if it's wrong you don't do it, even if everyone else says otherwise.

Looking Out For Myself

Parshat Noach

The Tower of Babel story teaches many lessons. Arguably the most blatant problem in the story is that the goal of the people involved was to "make for ourselves a name." (Bereishit 11:4)

Unified they were, but to what end? Hillel said, "If I am not for myself, who will be for me?" (Avot 1:14) Avot D'Rabi Natan explains this to mean that "I am my own best advocate." For a person to be successful, the initiative to make a good name must come from within and must be followed with precise actions which will help achieve such a goal. How could this be a problematic aim for the builders of the tower?

The answer lies in the focus of the name they were trying to make, and its purported intent.

It is one thing to stand up for oneself and to make a personal growth chart guided by distinct benchmarks of "what I need to achieve to be the best I can be." It is an entirely different matter to put the vital interests of our community above those of other individuals and the world as a whole.

Rabbi Samson Raphael Hirsch writes, "The community complements the individual, but only if the community assumes the same attitude toward God as the individual should; that is, if it subordinates its will to God.

"If the community declares, 'We want to demonstrate the powers inherent in the community' without calling in God's name; if the individual is called upon to be a servant of the community, but not to serve God; if the community presents itself as an end instead of as a means to an end – then mankind's whole moral fixture is lost."

While Rabbi Hirsch may have been addressing the dangers of Communism (he lived at the same time as Karl Marx and they overlapped living in Germany at different times), I think we can springboard off his division between the community and the individual to create a new paradigm for what individual growth can look like.

Over the course of many travels and shabboses spent in different cities and towns, I have found many people quite dedicated to their communities. Many talk about how "everyone here is so nice." They'll talk about the distinguishing character of their shul, or the "chevra" they have, or how people look out for one another, in good times and especially in bad times.

They'll talk about how the community is very supportive of Jewish causes, how the community is a "makom Torah," and how the community is a model of chesed. Many people will say "I wouldn't want to live anywhere else." Some might even express the name of the "somewhere else" where'd they'd never want to live because "We don't want to be like those people."

But the story of the Tower of Babel is meant to tell us that it's not about what your community can accomplish. Many communities, in fact, do a lot of good. Each one supports their causes (and thank God there are plenty to go around), and each community looks out for their own.

The downside of the Tower of Babel group is emphasized particularly in contrast to an individual named Abraham, who chose to make a name for God, instead of making a name for his community. He worked on himself in order to sanctify God's name, rather than focus his attention on the trimmings of his neighborhood.

Now that the holiday season is behind us, let us ask ourselves in what ways we are working to sanctify God's name – both as communities, and even moreso as individuals. It's nice that we have shalom zachars. But why are rabbis the only ones who prepare the divrei torah to share?

It's nice that we have long shabbos meals, but why do we spend the entire time chatting, perhaps remembering to say a "quick dvar" right before bentching, in place of filling our shabbos tables with songs and a vibrant discussion of the parsha?

It's nice that our children speak at their bar and bat mitzvahs. But why does half the speech need to contain a gratuitous "roast" of siblings instead of a sophisticated thought that parent and child worked on together that shares a powerful message for speaker and participants? Let us aim to bring our children into adulthood, rather than encourage them to demonstrate how childish they can be.

It's nice that the communities we live in support causes, Torah, chesed. But wouldn't it be even greater if every individual participated in these support efforts, not just by saying "I'm a fan" but by showing up, rolling up sleeves, and getting involved?

Our communities can have whatever reputations they've developed or will develop. But our goals as individuals should always be, as Hillel said, "To look out for myself." If I don't make the effort to break away from the coattails of others to create my own good name, to sanctify God's name myself, and to continue to grow in a spiritual way, "Who will be for me?"

Parsha Drama - Noach

What an experience I had! Five hundred years old! Spending a hundred years building an ark! And all to let my seven family members (eight, once you include me) along with a bunch of animals, live on a boat for a little over a year.

No matter. I built the ark, by myself, and proved I was devout and believed in God.
It was a little cold due to all the rain, so all the ladies huddled under a blanket to share warmth.

And we needed to wear a little gear to protect us from the rain (or at least a hat).

It's incredible when you consider the amount of water it takes to fill the world, rising 15 cubits higher than even the tallest mountains.

After the whole ordeal, I offered some animals as sacrificial offerings, I saw the rainbow in the sky, and I planted a vineyard from which I took grapes and made wine.

There's nothing like a glass of wine to get you a little tipsy. And if you know what I've been through, you understand why I had a bit to drink.

Nonetheless, getting drunk and taking off clothes is not very modest or decent. Luckily two of my sons covered me with a blanket.

Which caused me to wake up and realize what had happened. My sons were partly responsible, partly not responsible. But they did try to cover me and were, for the most part, successful at protecting me. Except for Cham, who has his own issues to deal with.

We concluded with the story of the Tower of Babel, and a preview to our next story, which is that of our patriarch Abraham. We'll learn more about that in Parshat Lekh Lekha!

Two Classes - Rabbi Mordechai Breuer Style

For the two classes I taught today, I utilized the teachings of the innovative Tanakh scholar, Rabbi Mordechai Breuer. In Yeshivat Har Etzion (a.k.a. Gush), Rabbi Breuer taught a weekly class for many years - I attended for part of a year - until he died a couple of years ago.

The Gush students called his approach "Shitat ha'bechinot," the "Aspects approach."

Rabbi Breuer approached all Torah texts from a very critical view (perhaps inspired by Biblical criticism), but maintained his stance that the Torah is from God and Sinai, and that there is depth to the Torah beyond simplified and "write-off" answers that may or may not be on target, at times are just cute, or don't satisfy his questions.

He would often focus on the name of God, in the form of אלקים (Elokim), or in the form of יקוק (Shem havaya, a.k.a. the Tetragrammaton) to explain how some things are written invoking one name of God, and therefore one aspect of God's goodness, versus when the choice is made to use the other name of God.

The classic example cites the two accounts of creation, Genesis 1 (Elokim) and Genesis 2 (Shem havaya).

Noach

A simple glance through chapters 6 and 7 demonstrate a clear separation between Noach being instructed by Elokim and Noach being instructed by Shem Havaya. Many of the descriptions and instructions are repeated. For example: the sin of humanity and their punishment, that Noach was righteous, that all animals and humans not on the ark will die, that the animals on the ark will be saved, that the people and animals entered the ark, that all the people and animals in the world did, in fact, die during the flood, to leave the ark, the promise of the covenant.

The questions and contradictions can be resolved with an open heart, and an open mind to a new idea, that challenges the method of traditional thinking, but remains steadfastly loyal to the traditions, and mesorah.

Ultimately, God judged the world using both of his attributes: mercy/compassion and judgment.

The two interplay in the way the Noach story plays out, through the way the flood happened (rain or flooding of waters of the deep), the animals came to the ark (were they gathered by Noach or did they come 'on their own' at God's direction), and ultimately how God created the covenant he shares with humanity not to destroy the world through rain.

Dispersion

The episode of the dispersion, in light of Rabbi Breuer's teachings and method, is one of the most fascinating in all of the Torah. 9 verses long, it contains immeasurable depth, and a powerful, timeless message of Jewish survival.

He divides the beginning verses of chapter 11 into two depictions of attempts at creating a national unity.
* Natural - people who move together to establish an area they can call their own (like the Mormons did once upon a time, or like Indian tribes did when threatened, or when circumstances dictated the need to move - both my examples)
* Un-natural - people who by dint of living in one land, or under one rulership, and sharing a same language, are defined as being united. (Think of any civilization that tried to colonize the world, only to have the colony become its own country one day)

How he divides the terms in the verses is a subject of a longer study, but essentially he says the former group was determined by their concerns of being spread across the land, while the latter group was concerned with making themselves a name and building a city and tower because they were already one group who needed to assert themselves.

Ultimately, Rabbi Breuer is aware that the two accounts are intermixed and intermingled, which is why he does not say they were two groups. The Torah is giving us two accounts of people trying to achieve something in a manner which is unpleasing to God.

They are both punished measure for measure - the ones who thought they were united based on their common language had their languages changed. The ones who were attempting to affirm their unity lest they be spread across the world were spread across the world.

Rabbi Breuer's conclusion is solid gold.

The natural separation and division into nationalities and languages is the way of the world. You can't put people into a box and expect them to follow it. [This is one of the triumphant nods to liberty versus tyranny in the Bible.]

When you take people and separate them, they lose their original language, they lose their original nationality and they take on the traits of the places to where they move.

Unless there is something greater which binds them, which goes above simple geographical commonality.

In the case of Judaism, which has defied these rules at all odds, we have the Torah which binds us, and a national unity which forever yearns for the rebuilding of the Temple in Jerusalem, no matter how far away we are and how comfortable we are in the places we live.

The Dispersion crowd wanted to build a tower to reach the heavens for whatever reason. The Jews build a Temple in Jerusalem as a "tower" but not to reach God, but for God to come down to us. It is not to make a name for ourselves, but to make a name for God.

That is the essence of that our experience. That is the essence of the brotherhood of the Jewish people.

p.s. For more on this subject, please see my article in the Jewish Star from last year

Canaan, Son of Cham

Parshat Noach

By Rabbi Avi Billet

In 7:7, Noach and his wife, along with his three sons and their wives, entered the ark. The Ba’al Haturim points out in 2:21 that the word “vayisgor” — and he closed — appears only twice in the Torah. We read the first one last week when G-d closed flesh around Chava. The second time appears in 7:16, when G-d closes the ark, protecting it from the rainwaters.

From these comparisons he infers the source of the midrash that marital relations were forbidden on the ark, for both the human couples and animal couples.

When it is time to leave the ark, in 9:18, we see Noach’s sons listed in this order: Shem, Cham, and Yefet. Then we are told, “and Cham is the father of Canaan.”

Why would Canaan be mentioned in this context? Was he born on the ark? Or was he not yet born? In either case, he isn’t one of the sons of Noach!

There are differences of opinion as to whether Canaan was born when this declaration is made, so we can go either way. But the Medrash Tanchuma (Noach, 12) says that three beings violated the rule of celibacy in the ark: Cham, the dog and the raven. In Cham’s case, his son Canaan was the result (see Chizkuni 9:18).

In the next few verses, Cham is again referred to as “Cham the father of Canaan,” when he witnesses his father in a drunken stupor (9:22), and Canaan is the one who is cursed in 9:25 over the way his father mocked Noach instead of covering his nakedness.

Seems a little unfair to Canaan.

Rashi says Canaan is mentioned in these capacities since he will be cursed on account of his dad, we need to know where he comes from. That still seems a little unfair to Canaan.

The Shakh (Siftei Cohen) suggests that Cham was not supposed to leave the ark alive because of the rule he had violated: the only reason he came off the boat was so that Canaan could be born. It was Canaan’s destiny to ultimately be beholden, as a servant, to his uncles, on the one hand, and on the other hand to build up the land of Canaan — also known as the Land of Israel — so the Children of Israel could one day inherit it (ala Deuteronomy 6:10-11).

According to this approach, Cham is constantly described as Canaan’s father because only in the merit of his unborn son (Canaan) did he disembark from the ark on his own two feet.

If we follow the interpretation of Ramban, however, we find that the punishment meted out to Canaan is more a punishment to his father than anyone else. While the parallel is not exact, many ask why a “mamzer” is labeled such and maintains his status (“may not enter the community of G-d”) when he did nothing — his biological parents are to blame as they conceived him through an adulterous affair.

Most answers are not satisfactory, but the most obvious one is that the ultimate punishment to those who have sinned is to have their children live as a constant reminder of their wrong deeds.

In our world, the misdeeds of those who have been guilty of any kind of crime are not quickly forgotten. With the help of the internet and blogs we have become an extremely judgmental and unforgiving generation. Sometimes we judge the children of these people based on the deeds of their parents, even though they had nothing to do with their parents’ actions and often reject every mistake their parents made. In some cases, the children of the infamous will change their last names to avoid such unfortunate and unwarranted retribution.

Canaan is not to be blamed for the misdeeds of his father. But his father has an obligation to live his life in such a manner that Canaan can never be held responsible by anyone for his father’s wrongdoings.

A friend of mine once put it to me this way: “I live my life in such a way that I will never have to explain to my daughter why my name is splashed across the front page of the newspaper.”

Loving parents would never want their children to have repercussions from their own misdeeds. It requires following the rules all the time, and an occasional long, hard look in the mirror.

A Pluralistic Message - Parshat Noach

While the link is still live, this can be seen on the website of the Greater Miami Jewish Federation.

For all-time, it can be viewed below:

Noach
by Rabbi Avi Billet
Community Fellow of Yeshiva University’s Center for Jewish Future of South Florida

“The Colors of the Rainbow”

Look! Up in the sky! It’s a bird! It’s a plane! It’s… a rainbow!

Growing up, some of my teachers tried to suggest that a rainbow is a bad omen. Perhaps it can be considered evil. After all, God used it as a symbol to remind Himself that He promised never again to destroy the world with a flood. (Bereshit 9:11-16)

This would mean that when we see a rainbow, God meant to destroy the world in this recent rain, but did not because of His promise.

Not so fast.

The rainbow is not necessarily meant to be a reminder to God to stop Him from unleashing His wrath at this moment. It is a reminder to God of His promise — that no matter how bad things look down here from His perspective, rain cannot be used to wipe out the world.

To be sure, hurricanes, floods, tsunamis can all happen. Many lives can be lost. We’ve seen all of these happen in the last five years alone.

But the rainbow is also a reminder to us that as bad as a storm may be, and as much havoc as waters can cause, storm waters will never destroy virtually all of humanity as it did back then, in the time of Noach. And this has remained true.

There are those who suggest its presence is a sign that the generation of humans who see it may be guilty of the same deeds that caused the floods in the days of Noach (Rabbenu Bachaya). [Open The Miami Herald and you see this is the case every day.]

Others suggest the positioning of the bow is likened to the way archers turn their bows when they are no longer shooting, making it a sign of peace between former foes (Chizkuni).

All things considered, the rainbow is meant to be, in the words of Rabbenu Bachaya, “a gift.” It is a sign of a hope that people will improve and better their ways. Considering its beauty, it is surely appreciated as the gift it is when it appears below the clouds.

Why was the rainbow chosen as the symbol? Why could the symbol not be a “really cool” cloud formation? Why could it not be a single-color band, such as gold perhaps, in the sky? Why all the colors?

According to howstuffworks.com, the scientific explanation for a rainbow begins with “the refraction and reflection of sunlight by drops of water… [or] by light scattered by large numbers of water droplets. Although each droplet separates sunlight into colors, the different colors in a rainbow come to the eye of a viewer from different groups of droplets.”

To take science to a different level, let us suggest the rainbow is a symbolic reflection of humanity. It is a unique and rare fusion of different colors and (curved) stripes living together in harmony, reflecting the warmth and shining light of the Master of the World who is responsible for all of our being on this earth.

One of the beautiful marks of our Jewish experience is that we are not one race, have never been one race, and will never be only one race. Like the rainbow, we come in all different colors and stripes. Not only do we come from all kinds of different backgrounds, but anyone who sincerely wants to join the Jewish family and is committed to living a Jewish lifestyle as defined by Jewish law and tradition is welcome to join our ranks.

When we live in peace and harmony amongst ourselves, we are a sight as beautiful to behold as the serenity of a rainbow.