The Great Flood (known as the mabul in Hebrew) was sent by G‑d in the year 1656 of Creation (2105 BCE), to cleanse the earth of mankind’s corrupt ways. The only survivors were Noah, his family, and representatives of every living species, who found refuge in a specially designed ark.
The Pre-Flood World
The world preceding the Flood was marked by abundance, health, and prosperity. The average human lifespan lasted many hundreds of years, and the climate across the globe was temperate and pleasant.
Unfortunately, mankind took advantage of this blissful lifestyle, and corruption became rampant. With the exception of a few select individuals, society indulged in theft, idolatry, and incest.
This all came to a head in the year 1536 of Creation (2225 BCE), when G‑d first foretold the events that would come to pass.
Noah Builds the Ark
Scripture tells us that Noah, a ninth-generation descendant of Adam and Eve, was a righteous and upright man.
G‑d informed Noah of his plans to eradicate mankind due to their evil ways, and instructed him to build an ark, in which he and his family were to take refuge.
Joining them in the ark would be a select few creatures of every species (other than fish, that survived the Flood unscathed): two from every non-kosher animal, and seven (or fourteen) of every kosher animal.
G‑d gave exact instructions how the ark was to be built. It was to be crafted of gopher wood and sealed from both within and without with pitch. It was to comprise three stories: the top for Noah and his family; the middle for the animals; and the bottom for refuse.
It was to measure 300 cubits in length, 50 cubits in width, and 30 in height. The ark was illuminated by a tzohar, which waseither a window through which light shone from the outside, or a radiant precious stone.
The ark took Noah no less than 120 years to build, allowing plenty of time for onlookers to query his actions, be told of the impending calamity, and change their ways. Unfortunately, such repentance never came to pass.
Finally, in the year 1656 (2105 BCE), the day arrived when everything would change.
Envision a deluge over all the earth, hellish waves pounding back and forth, crushing every structure, carrying away every living being, until no dry land remains, no life endures.
This is the world into which you were thrown. The waves are the stress and anxiety of indecision, not knowing which way to turn, on what to rely.
Up and down, hot and cold—constantly churning back and forth, sucking the life out of you.
The secret you must know is that these are truly peaceful waters. They are called 「the waters of Noah」—because their energy can be harnessed to achieve true serenity.
Do as Noah did and build an ark. Ark in Hebrew is teivah—which also means 「a word.」 Your ark shall be the words of Torah and of prayer, of mitzvahs and of kind deeds.
When the waves rage—whether from outside or from within your own heart—direct their power into those harmonious words.
Rather than drown you with everything else, let that raw energy of the mighty waters carry you upward—into a serene world you could never reach without them.
The Flood
On the seventeenth day of the Hebrew month of Cheshvan, rain began to fall. In addition, jets of steaming water shot forth from the depths of the earth.
The downpour continued for forty days and forty nights, until the face of the earth was entirely submerged, covering the summits of the highest mountains with water 15 cubits deep.
Finally, the rain subsided, but the waters continued to churn for an additional 150 days. After this period of time, the water level slowly began to recede, until the ark rested on the mountains of Ararat.
To determine the extent of the water’s retreat, Noah sent out a raven, but the bird did not fly that far and merely circled the ark. Next, Noah sent out a dove for a total of three missions.
The first time the dove left the ark, it returned without any results. The second time, it returned with an olive leaf in its beak, indicating that new growth had begun to sprout.
Finally, on the first day of the Hebrew month of Tishrei of the year 1657 (2104 BCE), the water completely subsided. Close to two months later, on the twenty-seventh of Cheshvan, the ground fully dried, allowing Noah and the rest of the ark’s inhabitants to emerge.
The total time Noah spent in the ark was 365 days (one solar year; one year and 11 days on the lunar calendar).
The Flood: A Timeline
The following is a chronology of the Flood, as indicated by the dates and time periods given in the Torah’s account and calculated by Rashi:
Cheshvan 17 (mid-fall): Noah enters ark; rains begin.
Kislev 27 (early winter): Forty days of rain end; beginning of 150 days of water’s swelling and churning.
Sivan 1 (early summer): Water calms and begins to subside at the rate of one cubit every four days.
Sivan 17: The bottom of the ark, submerged 11 cubits beneath the surface, touches down on the top of the mountains of Ararat.
Av 1 (summer): The mountain peaks break the water’s surface.
Elul 10 (late summer): Forty days after the mountain peaks become visible, Noah opens the ark’s window and dispatches a raven.
Elul 17: Noah sends the dove for the first time.
Elul 23: The dove is sent a second time, and returns with an olive leaf in its beak.
Tishrei 1 (early fall): Dove’s third mission. Water completely drained.
Cheshvan 27: Ground fully dried. Noah exits ark.
Why Build a Too-Small Ark?
At the heart of the movement for inclusion is a simple claim: Every human being is created in G‑d’s image; we each possess a soul of infinite worth; and differences in our bodies, minds and abilities are therefore external and should not define our interactions with one another.
While the assertion that every one of us is created equal is not likely to turn many heads, the implementation of that idea still encounters some resistance.
And it’s not an insensitive resistance. It is the perception that inclusion asks too much—that it is a logically sound but quixotic endeavor.
In conversation with peers, lay people and community leaders, one finds that the subject of inclusion often leads to a response that, yes, every member of our community should feel welcome and at home in our synagogues, programs and schools.
But wholesale reform is costly and difficult for most average-sized communities, and the task seems too vast for any single action to be meaningful.
Can the construction of every 20-year-old synagogue be revamped? Can every congregation afford an ASL interpreter? We assume that inclusion means an overhaul of our institutions, an all-or-nothing quest.
If we cannot provide cutting-edge accommodation, we might as well leave it for others who are in a position to make real change.
Some 120 years before the impending submersion of Earth and its inhabitants, Noah is commanded to construct an ark with very specific dimensions: 300 cubits in length, 50 in width and 30 in height.
This corresponds to approximately 470 feet in length, 78 in width and 47 in height.
For antediluvian man to construct a box of that size is certainly an architectural achievement—and an arduous assignment.
And yet, for all its capaciousness, it is wholly inadequate for its designed use—to provide shelter for a representation of every living beast, bird, reptile and insect in the land.
It is absurd to think that an ark the length of a football field-and-a-half can house the nearly million species of animals that roam the Earth. Factor in storage space for a year’s worth of food, and the ark is useless as the salvation of the world’s animal kingdom.
So how did the ark contain the multitude of Creation? Nachmanides offers that it was a miracle. 「The small space contained a large volume.」
But Nachmanides doubles back: If G‑d intended to defy the constraints of space and miraculously accommodate all living things, then why did Noah and his family need to exhaust themselves in the construction of the ark?
Let it be a modest yacht, a floating shoebox, a sailboat—it doesn’t matter if G‑d is making the arrangements.
And here the commentator arrives at a resonant conclusion. G‑d will tend to His creations, regardless of whether it squares with the laws of physics or not. But He prefers human innovation over Divine intervention. Miracles come on the heel of human effort; they do not replace it.
G‑d looks to humanity for an overture—an attitude of preparedness that says that we are committed to doing what we can to shelter G‑d’s handiwork.
Spend 120 years chopping trees, gathering wood, cutting planks and assembling a boat that provokes the disbelief of those who see it. Astonish Me and the world with what you are capable of.
Then you』ll find that even your limited structures can miraculously hold much more than seemed possible.
This, perhaps, is a response to the reluctance well-meaning communities sometimes feel about creating more inclusive environments. The ark that will encompass every living thing may not be within our hands to build.
We may not be endowed with the resources or the clout to re-engineer our facilities and neighborhoods.
But we can certainly change our attitude, being conscious of how we speak to others, being attuned to the different needs of people with different abilities, and yes, make incremental changes to our brick-and-mortar structures to allow an increasing number of fellow Jews to participate in Jewish life.
When a purposeful effort is made—when we build what we can with the materials we are given—then even if the physical space falls short it becomes clear that this is a community that cares for all its members.
If we broadcast that we are striving to invite every Jewish body and soul, we will see our communities expand and our congregations enriched, strengthened and beautified by the welcoming presence of Noah’s miraculous, yet human-made ark.
Life in the Ark
Life in the ark was no picnic. The Midrash relates that throughout their year-long sojourn in the ark, Noah and his sons barely slept, as they were completely preoccupied with feeding the animals and birds.
Each animal needed to be given its specific nourishment at an exact time during the day.
The tremendous workload and pressure caused Noah to cough up blood. What’s more, Noah was once late in bringing food to the lion, and the angry cat bit Noah.
How did the ark manage to contain hundreds of thousands of species of animal life, not to mention the food necessary to feed them for a full year? According to one approach, the ark was miraculous in nature, allowing for a shipload far beyond the ark’s dimensions.
This also explains how carnivorous animals were able to coexist with their prey. Chassidic teachings explain that Noah’s ark evoked the time of the future Redemption, when 「the wolf will dwell with the lamb, and the leopard shall crouch with the kid.」
What Is the Significance of a Rainbow in Judaism?
It is a beautiful and colorful aspect of G‑d’s world, but it’s also a reminder of tragedy. We are taught not to stare at it, but we do make a special blessing when it appears in the sky.
Let’s see what the Torah has to say about the rainbow.
The Covenant
As a result of the moral decay of the generation, 1,656 years after the world was created, G‑d flooded the world and destroyed it. The only survivors of the Flood were Noah, his family and the animals that were on the ark with them.
After a year, when they were finally able to leave the ark. Noah built an altar and brought sacrifices to G‑d. What happened next is recounted in the Torah portion of Noah:
G‑d smelled the good smell [of Noah’s sacrifices] and He said to Himself: I will no longer curse the land because of man, since man’s inclination is evil from the time of his youth. I will never again destroy all living things, as I』ve just done…
And G‑d said to Noah and his sons: I will keep my covenant with you and your descendants…and never again will a flood destroy all life, and there will not be another flood destroying the earth….
This is the sign I am making, testifying to the covenant between Me and you and all living souls, forever:
I have put my rainbow in the clouds, and it will be the sign of the covenant between Myself and the world.
When I send clouds over the earth, the rainbow will be seen in the clouds, and I will remember the covenant between Myself and yourselves and all living souls, and there will never again be a flood to destroy all life.
The rainbow will be in the clouds and I will see it and remember the eternal covenant between G‑d and all the living souls on earth.
After the Flood, the Creator promised that—in spite of how man might sin—He would never again make a flood that would destroy the world. He created the rainbow as a sign, a reminder of this covenant He made with the world.
What Blessing Do We Say When Seeing a Rainbow?
When a rainbow appears in the sky, it is considered a sign that we have sinned, but G‑d has remembered His covenant.
Therefore, when seeing a rainbow, it is appropriate to thank G‑d for not making another flood. We thank G‑d by making a special blessing.
The sages of the Talmud disagree about the blessing that should be said. One opinion is that we should say, 「Blessed are You…
who remembers the covenant,」 while another opinion prefers, 「Blessed are You…Who is faithful to His covenant and stands by His word.」
The final decision melds the two opinions into the following blessing:
「Blessed are You, G‑d, Ruler of the world, who remembers the covenant, who is faithful to His covenant, and who stands by His word.」
A Generation Without a Rainbow
Since the rainbow is a sign that mankind is sinning, a generation that never sees a rainbow is on an especially high level of spirituality and righteous conduct.
The Midrash tells of several generations in which there were such righteous people that no rainbow was seen in their lifetimes: the generation of King Chizkiyahu, the era of the Men of the Great Assembly, the generation of Rabbi Shimon bar Yochai and the generation of Rabbi Yehoshua ben Levi.
When no rainbow appeared in the heavens, it was the ultimate sign that there lived a person so righteous that he was a foundation-stone of the world.
The Talmud tells about a meeting between Rabbi Yehoshua ben Levi and Rabbi Shimon bar Yochai in Gan Eden (Heaven).
Rabbi Shimon asked Rabbi Yehoshua if the rainbow had been seen in his lifetime. When Rabbi Yehoshua modestly hid his greatness by saying that it had, Rabbi Shimon said, 「Then you’re not ben Levi!」
Natural Phenomenon or New Creation?
A rainbow is a natural phenomenon with a simple scientific explanation.
Since one can assume that the mechanics for rainbows came into being during the six days of creation, the question arises: what exactly happened after the Flood, when the Creator announced that the rainbow would be a sign of the covenant that He』d established with Noah and his sons?
Several explanations have been given.
Nachmanides posits that the rainbow existed long before the Flood, but after the Flood, the Creator decided to make it a sign that mankind was sinning.
Rabbi Avraham ibn Ezra and Abarbanel say that, with the Flood, there were physical changes in the world that allowed the rainbow to become visible. According to Ibn Ezra, sunlight became stronger. According to Abarbanel, the atmosphere became thinner.
The Lubavitcher Rebbe explains in the light of Chassidic teachings: Even though the Flood brought destruction to the world, there was also an aspect of it that was a blessing.
The Flood purified the world in the sense that it gave man the ability to refine the material. The clouds, which are formed from the mist that rises from the ground, represent this transformation of the material into something ethereal.
After the Flood, the clouds were thinner (allowing rainbows to form), symbolizing the ability for human endeavor to purify the material world.
Kli Yakar has another explanation: He says that the rainbow was always visible, but in righteous generations, there was less sin, and the populace was so confident that nothing would happen to them that they didn’t bother to look at the rainbow and worry about it being a harbinger of evil.
The Beauty of the Divine Presence
A rainbow isn’t only a sign of sinning; it can also signify divine revelation. The prophet Ezekiel described a vision in which he had seen the divine presence 「like a rainbow in the clouds on a rainy day, with a corona around it; this was how the glory of G‑d appeared, and I saw it and fell on my face and heard a voice speaking….」
Because of this vision, there was a Talmudic sage who said that when a person sees a rainbow, he should bow down, prostrating himself in front of G‑d.
Others, however, said it was forbidden to do so because it would look like one was worshipping the rainbow.
However, since the rainbow represents the beauty of the divine presence and the glory of the Creator, the Talmud teaches that it’s not proper to stare at a rainbow.
However, it is permitted to look at a rainbow for the sake of making the special blessing on it.
A Sign of the Coming of the Messiah
The Zohar says that before the Messiah comes, an especially bright and colorful rainbow will appear.
May we merit seeing it soon, and in our lifetimes.
Judaism and Vegetarianism
The kosher dietary rules do rule out shrimp, lard, cheeseburgers, and lobster, but plain old beef is not on the Torah’s 「don’t」 list—if prepared following certain guidelines. For better or for worse, meat is an undeniable favorite on the kosher menu.
The History
Upon his creation, Adam, the first man, is taught by G‑d the ways of the world: 「Behold, I have given you every seed-bearing herb which is upon the surface of the entire earth, and every tree that has seed-bearing fruit; it will be yours for food.」 Seed, herb, tree, and fruit—yes; anything else—no.
Several chapters (and over 1600 years) later, upon surviving the devastation of the great flood, Noah leaves the ark and is told by the Almighty, 「Every moving thing that lives shall be yours to eat; like the green vegetation, I have given you everything.」 His diet now includes meat as well.
It would seem that G‑d’s original (and ideal) plan was that we should not eat meat. One problem with this approach is that many statements in the Torah imply that meat-eating is ideal and encouraged, for example, to honor Shabbat and the holidays.
So what is the deal? Would G‑d rather we be vegetarians like Adam, or meat-eaters like Noah?
The Philosophical Approach—Distinction of Responsibility
The fifteenth-century philosopher Rabbi Yosef Albo, author of Sefer ha-Ikkarim (「The Book of Principles」), understands G‑d’s instructions to Adam as an implication that the original G‑dly plan was that man should refrain from killing and eating meat.
In his view, the killing of animals is a cruel and furious act, ingraining these negative traits in the human character; in addition, the meat of certain animals coarsens the heart and deadens its spiritual sensitivity.
The people of the first generations mistook this, however, to mean that human and animal were equal, with equal expectations and standards.
This led to the degeneration of society into violence and corruption—for if the human being is but another beast, then killing a man is the equivalent of killing an animal.
It was this attitude and behavior which prompted G‑d to cleanse the world with the great flood.
After the flood, G‑d laid down a new world order. People needed to recognize the moral obligations and divine purpose entrusted to humankind.
To make this clear, G‑d told Noah that humankind can—indeed, must—eat the flesh of animals.
Our dominion over animals highlights our superiority, and reminds us that we are charged with divine responsibility to perfect the world.
To minimize its negative effects on the human being, when the Torah was given, G‑d forbade the flesh of those animals that have a coarsening influence on the soul.
According to this approach, meat-eating is not good, but it does serve a very important function.
The Kabbalistic Approach—Cosmic Perfection
While some question the right of man to kill an animal to fill his belly, the great sixteenth-century mystic Rabbi Isaac Luria questions the right of man to consume any organism for his own self-preservation.
If everything in this word was created deliberately by G‑d, why is your blood redder than the purposeful existence of a tomato?
And he answers that . . . it’s not.
One who eats solely for his own selfish desires has swallowed the meaningful life of a vegetable with no excuse. 「It’s not fair!」 cries the helpless plant.
On the other hand, when we eat with the intention to use the energy to further our uniquely human service of G‑d, we have lifted the food up.
When a person performs a G‑dly deed—a deed which transcends his natural self—the food he eats is elevated along with him, and is reunited with its G‑dly source.
But there’s a difference between animal-based and vegetation-based foods. For starters, you can’t live without bread. If you』d eat bread only when you’re ready to elevate it, you might starve to death and never get a chance to try again.
So we can’t restrict bread-eating to the spiritual-minded. Moreover, when eating simple, necessary foods like bread, it is easier to maintain a purposeful perspective. But meat is a luxury.
And indulgence in this luxury makes one more materialistic than he was before eating.
Therefore, one should only eat meat if one will be able to accomplish more with the meat than he would be able to with vegetation. One way to make your meat-eating worthwhile is to elevate not only its physical components, but its pleasure factor as well.
Click here to read more about this. If you can do that, you have brought yourself and your lunch to greater spiritual heights and sensitivity than you can achieve by eating sprouts.
On the other hand, if you don’t, you drag yourself—and the animal—to a more materialistic plane.
Why is it that only the post-flood world can take the beef challenge?
The human race from Adam until Noah had the potential and charge to eat that which is indispensable to basic survival, with the intent to live a life of purpose; in this way, the man and food would have achieved their purpose.
But eating meat requires much more than this. Meat, with its pleasure-inducing properties, naturally draws one towards materialistic lust. Elevating meat requires the ability to rise above the natural order, to bring new and altruistic life into something which is naturally the embodiment of materialism and self-indulgence.
Pre-flood humanity and pre-flood meat didn’t allow for this.
Noah emerged from the ark to a changed world, a world where everything has the creative ability to go beyond its natural state of being and to assume a much greater identity.
A new era of earthly potential was born. The world was now a place where man could elevate the very nature of earth’s components to supernatural heights—and even elevate their power of enticement and pleasure as well.
Now man was given the ability to eat even meat and elevate its energy.
Even for us, rarefied by the flood, eating meat is no simple feat. Before you sink your teeth in to that pastrami burger, here are a couple of things to keep in mind.
The sages declared that an empty-minded person has no right to eat meat. They also taught never to eat meat out of hunger; first satisfy your hunger with bread.(On an empty stomach, it is very difficult to keep focus on anything other than stuffing your face.) Only when 「eating mindfully,」 focusing on our divine mission, are we doing more for the animal than the animal is doing for us.
According to this approach, it may be cruel to not eat meat, because doing so robs the animal of its chance to serve a higher purpose.
Don’t be scared off. Get your act together and focus; the completion of G‑d’s universal plan is at 「steak.」
Aftermath and Legacy
Upon leaving the ark, Noah erected an altar and sacrificed some of the kosher animals and birds to G‑d. Subsequently, G‑d promised to never again eradicate all of humanity.
To this end, G‑d established a covenant with Noah and his descendants, and he strengthened the covenant by means of a rainbow.
「Whenever humanity is unworthy,」 said G‑d to Noah, 「and potential thoughts of destruction rise before Me, I will cause a rainbow to appear among the clouds. This will remind Me of My covenant, and I will hold back these thoughts from materializing.」
Following the Flood, G‑d enjoined Noah and his children with the commandment of procreation.
Additionally, G‑d granted allowance to Noah and his descendants to partake of animal meat (as long as the animal was not alive at the time of consumption), which had been forbidden up until that point.
In the days following the Flood, Noah planted a vineyard and made wine from its produce. He then partook of the wine and became intoxicated, causing him to lie uncovered in his tent.
While Noah’s sons Shem and Japheth took pains to cover their father’s nakedness, their brother Ham and Ham’s son Canaan disrespected him.
This led Noah to curse Canaan, stating that he would be a slave to his brethren, and to bless Shem and Japheth.
The Flood was followed by a calamity of a different sort: the Dispersion. In the year 1996 of Creation (1764 BCE), a multitude of nations gathered in the valley of Babylon.
With the joint goal of challenging G‑d, they began building a city, overlooked by a tower—the Tower of Babel—that was to reach the heavens. When G‑d saw their plans, he limited each nation to speaking and understanding a unique language.
Unable to communicate, they disbanded their plans, and G‑d dispersed them over the face of the earth.
Why Noah Planted a Vineyard and Got Drunk
The Biblical Narrative
In the year 1657 (2104 BCE), immediately after the Great Flood and G‑d's promise not to flood the world again, Noah and his family, sole survivors of over 1,500 years of human history, exited the Ark with the task of regrouping, rebuilding and repopulating a desolate earth.
The Torah describes the first event to occur after G‑d promises never to flood the world again:
And Noah began to be a master of the soil, and he planted a vineyard. And he drank of the wine and became drunk, and he uncovered himself within his tent.
And Ham, the father of Canaan, saw his father's nakedness, and he told his two brothers outside. And Shem and Japheth took the garment, and they placed [it] on both of their shoulders, and they walked backwards, and they covered their father's nakedness, and their faces were turned backwards, so that they did not see their father's nakedness.
And Noah awoke from his wine, and he knew what his small son had done to him.
And he said, "Cursed be Canaan; he shall be a slave among slaves to his brethren." And he said, "Blessed be the L‑rd, the G‑d of Shem, and may Canaan be a slave to them. May G‑d expand Japheth, and may He dwell in the tents of Shem, and may Canaan be a slave to them."
Why Did He Do It?
Why was Noah drinking so heavily? A man chosen by G‑d to be the father of all mankind, someone who was, in the Torah’s words, "a righteous man" and "perfect,」 was taking to the bottle like some degenerate in a corner pub?
We're talking about a man G‑d communicated with directly. We're talking about a man G‑d selected as the most eligible of all his peers to save humanity.
A number of reasons are offered to justify Noah’s inebriation.
The Seder Hadorot writes that, as a young man, Noah had once watched a goat munch on some grapes and then become giddy and cheerful.
So perhaps Noah was looking for a little pick-me-up after bearing witness to the obliteration of civilization from the face of the earth.
Another explanation offered is that Noah was after the cognitive powers that could be harnessed through alcohol, wanting to broaden his horizons in the study of Torah.
Chassidic teachings take a different approach. Noah wasn't trying to imbibe spirits to lift his own. He also wasn't looking to drink in moderation to jump-start his brain.
Noah's plan from the beginning was to go all in, to get completely under-the-table, stripped-down-to-the-flesh plastered.
Having witnessed extreme depravity and immorality, and the destruction it left in its wake, Noah had come face to face with the consequences of sin.
Noah got drunk (and subsequently disrobed) as an ambitious attempt to return the world to the innocent time before sin. He was trying to undo and reverse the negative effects of Adam and Eve's sin in the Garden of Eden.
The World Before Sin
Before there was sin, the universe was at peace. Nature and its Creator were completely in sync and the unity of G‑d was manifest in all of creation. The only consciousness that existed was the consciousness of G‑d, and one couldn't help but view every aspect of the world as a component of that reality.
The only self-awareness that existed before sin was the awareness that one was an expression of the Divine. There was no possibility of viewing oneself as an independent, self-sufficient entity when G‑dliness was so revealed. One unifying consciousness fused all of creation together.
Then came sin. The effects were quick in coming and shattered the clarity that had existed previously. Confusion and friction became the dominant realities.
In place of the two innocent souls blissfully unaware of their own nakedness, two people stood with a newly acquired self-awareness that focused them in on their own existence and made them shrink away in shame. The harmony was gone.
The unity was gone. The transcendence was gone. What was left was a multitude of independent creatures lacking the guiding and uniting force they once took for granted.
Noah, in his attempt to fashion a society based on proper ideals, tried importing the pre-sin state of existence. By getting drunk, Noah thought he could get rid of the pervasive self-awareness and thereby resurrect a state of complete unity with the Divine.
Noah’s mistake was that he thought all oblivion was created equal. What he didn't realize was that lack of self-awareness that doesn't come from subjugation to a higher power, but rather from excessive alcohol consumption, is merely confusion, and isn't in fact an enlightened spiritual state.
One can't take shortcuts in achieving transcendence; it has to come from hard work and steady progress.
So Noah wasn't just looking for a good time, and it wasn't just a passing idea. His actions were part of a grand plan to fashion society on the foundations of spiritual enlightenment. It just didn't play out the way he imagined.
The Reaction
On finding out about their father's intoxication, Noah's three sons had three different reactions, ranging from pious to deplorable.
「And Ham, the father of Canaan, saw his father's nakedness, and he told his two brothers outside.」
Seems innocent enough. But as Rashi is quick to inform us, "saw his father's nakedness" means that he either sodomized him or castrated him. Neither of those being your average son's reaction to finding his father sprawled on his bed in a drunken stupor.
Ham lost no time in telling his brothers of their father's shameful state. Shem, the youngest of the three, sprang into action and grabbed a garment to cover their father. Japheth, following his younger brother's lead, also held onto the garment:
Shem and Japheth took the garment, and they placed [it] on both of their shoulders, and they walked backwards, and they covered their father's nakedness, and their faces were turned backwards, so that they did not see their father's nakedness.
Rashi explains that the seeming redundancy in the verse teaches us that Shem and Japheth made additional efforts to avoid seeing their father in a state of nakedness even for just a moment.
And Noah awoke from his wine, and he knew what his small son had done to him. And he said, "Cursed be Canaan; he shall be a slave among slaves to his brethren."
And he said, "Blessed be the L‑rd, the G‑d of Shem, and may Canaan be a slave to them. May G‑d expand Japheth, and may He dwell in the tents of Shem, and may Canaan be a slave to them."
There are a number of explanations offered as to why Canaan, Ham’s son, is the one to bear the brunt of Noah’s curse:
1) He was cursed because he was the one who initially informed his father, Ham, of the situation. (And not in the 「Oh my word!
Whatever are we to do about this?」 kind of way. More like in the 「Dad you gotta check out what I just found! You're gonna love this」 kind of way.)
2) Because Ham tried preventing Noah from having a fourth son, Noah cursed his fourth son.
3) Noah didn't think it was appropriate to curse his son after G‑d himself had blessed his children.
4) Ham actually learned his perverse ways from his son Canaan.
Our rabbis teach, that both Shem and Japheth were rewarded for their actions, but in different measures. Shem, because he initiated, was rewarded in both body and soul by meriting to have his descendants receive the special mitzvah of tzitzit.
Japheth, who merely went along with Shem’s actions, was rewarded in body by meriting the burial of his descendants during the war of Gog and Magog.
Ham, who not only didn't assist his father but added injury to insult, was punished through his descendants when they were stripped naked and disgraced in the war with the King of Assyria.
The Punishment Fits the Crime
What's interesting to note is that all the rewards and punishments dished out as a result of this event are related to clothing.
This is in keeping with the Torah’s general principle of "an eye for an eye," the idea that consequences are meted out measure for measure. If you're a good doctor, getting a taste of your own medicine isn't so bad. (But if you're a bad doctor...)
Mirror, Mirror
Chassidic teachings tell us that when one sees negativity in others, it's really a projection of the seer’s own negativity. However, is this true across the board? Is it not possible for a really good guy to happen upon a really bad guy?
Is it not possible for a completely selfless person to interact with selfish people? (It's okay if you're picturing yourself right now.) The answer is yes, it is possible. The key to knowing if the negativity you see is a reflection of you is in the kind of reaction it is.
When Ham saw his father's disgrace, the thought of helping him didn't cross his mind. Shem, on the other hand, saw the issue as one that needed to be rectified, and instantly got to work doing that.
One's reaction to negativity is very telling. If, when coming across it, you react like an amateur food critic and just say "that's bad" and move on your way, then something's wrong.
The negativity didn't bother you enough to attempt to get rid of it. It didn't rattle your proverbial cage. Negativity has to clash with everything you stand for.
It has to shake you to your very core until you have no choice but to correct it.
If it doesn't do that, then there's some of that negativity in you as well.
For Shem, there was no buffering time. The second he heard of his father's compromised situation, he got to work fixing it.
Finding out about the issue and finding a solution were one and the same for Shem. Because he was completely free of any of that negativity, he instantly rejected it and went about trying to change it.
So when you come across evil in the world, you have a decision to make: do you want to be a part of it, or do you want to be a part of bringing it down?
The Tower of Babel: What Was Up With lt?
The Tower of Babel in the Bible
After the Great Flood, man had again begun to multiply and fill the earth. They all spoke one language and understood one another well. They decided to build a tower which was to reach to heaven, to make them equal to G‑d, and at the same time, to make it possible for them to stay together.
This symbol of their divine strength, as they thought, was to be built in the valley of the Land of Shinear.
G‑d decided to destroy their arrogance by destroying their ability to understand one another. He, therefore, confused the people by splitting them up into seventy different nations and tribes, each with a language of its own, (hence the name Babel, meaning 「confusion」).
When this happened, the project of the Tower had to be given up. The various groups migrated in different directions and settled in all parts of the world.
The Tower of Babel Explained
There are a number of fascinating explanations on the subject to be found in the classic commentaries. Let's begin with the Talmud where we find three traditions:
In the School of Rabbi Shila it was taught that they built the tower with the intention of piercing the heavens with axes to drain all the water held therein, making it impossible for G‑d to bring another flood, should they vex Him again.
(Perhaps what's meant by this is that they had embraced their understanding of science and its workings to the extent that they felt they were now able to spar with G‑d on His turf—the heavens.)
Rabbi Yirmiya bar Elazar taught that there were actually three groups; each with its own plans for the tower: One group planned to climb the tower, safely out of harm's way, should another flood come.
A second camp wanted to use it as a shrine for idol worship. Yet a third group actually wanted to use it as a platform from which to battle G‑d.
Rabbi Natan, on the other hand, taught that all of them intended to serve idols.
The Targum Yerushalmi explains that the tower was to be crowned by the form of a man holding a sword in his hand—an act of defiance against the G‑d whom they hoped to overcome.
An interesting teaching in the Midrash is that they were afraid that the heavens would collapse regularly every 1656 years like it did during the flood, which took place in the year 1656 from Creation, and they therefore decided to build a scaffolding to support it.
The Maharal (Rabbi Yehuda Lowe, 16th century rabbi of Prague) explains the Midrash and the teachings of the School of Rabbi Shila to mean that they saw the Flood as a natural occurrence that took place as a result of the movements of the celestial spheres and their positioning in the sky at the time of the Flood.
The purpose of the tower was to somehow change what they perceived as the natural weather pattern.
Rabbi Obadiah Sforno (15th-16th Century) explains that their plan to place an idol on top of the tower was so that it would gain universal acclaim as the world's tallest shrine and greatest god, making it the center of worship for all—with the result that the one who ruled that city would rule all humankind.
Rabbeinu Bachya (13th-14th Century) gives a number of explanations. On an elementary level, he explains that their plan was to build a monument that would be seen from many miles around.
They wanted to settle together, and decided that they would all remain within view of the tower and never stray from it.
Anyone who strayed too far from the metropolis would have the tower to guide him back. This, however, was not G‑d's plan, since He created us to settle the world—all of it—and make it a better place.
He also suggests that they may have actually been creating the first lightning rod. They knew that G‑d had promised not to bring another flood, and feared that He would instead punish those who rebel with fire.
They hoped that the tower would serve to divert any electrical storms that G‑d would send their way. (Note that Bachya lived many centuries before Franklin.)
The Netziv (Rabbi Naphtali Tzvi Yehuda Berlin, the19th century Rosh Yeshiva of the famed Volozhin Yeshiva) has a fascinating and very instructive view on their plan.
He explains that they were the first social engineers—hoping to create a utopian society where all lived and thought as one. They feared that if some people would settle their own colonies and towns, they would develop their own cultures and unique modes of living.
They wanted everyone to live in one controlled environment where they would be able to make sure that all remain culturally homogenous.
The tower served as a base around which all people of their planned colony would settle—no one leaving its immediate environs.
The problem with their plan was that it was the first step toward a tyrannical state where no individual expression would be tolerated, and G‑d split them into separate nations.
The Lubavitcher Rebbe once explained the episode as follows: They planned a tower which would be a monument to inspire commitment to their common goal—survival.
They wanted to ""make for ourselves a name""—to ensure the continuity of the human race.
Where did they go wrong?
Precisely that was their error: they saw survival as an end in itself. Let us make a name for ourselves, they said; let us ensure that there will be future generations who will read of us in their history books.
To them, life itself was an ideal, survival itself a virtue.
This was the beginning of the end. Nature abhors a vacuum, and this is true of spiritual realities as well: unless a soul or cause is filled with positive content, corruption will ultimately seep in.
A hollow name and shrine soon becomes a tower of Babel.
Deluge of Purity
At first glance, the Flood appears to have been an act of cosmic wrath. But Kabbalah teaches that the foremost energy that guides the cosmos is that of chessed, goodness and compassion.
Wrath is incompatible with this spiritual posture. There is clearly something much more sublime in the account of the Flood.
Chassidic teachings describe the Flood as a cleansing process. The waters of the Flood are like the waters of a ritual bath—a mikvah—where the waters spiritually cleanse the one who enters it.
The world similarly received a spiritual cleansing, setting the course of history on a course of hope and purpose.
And just as a mikvah must contain 40 seah (an ancient measure of volume), so did the rains of the Flood last for forty days.
The Forty-Day Mikveh
A nation's stories reveal its national psyche. What distinguishes the ancient Jewish spiritual tradition is its complete negation of fiction. With the rare exception of a small section of the ethical literature and one branch of Hassidic literature, the story is not a story — it is a statement of reality, and truth is stranger than fiction.
Take the story of Noah and the global flood. A man hears a Divine instruction from Above and spends decades constructing a huge ferry that carries the species of the world across time into a new future.
A mere story? Some will say so. Yet it is a curious fact that the account of the flood is contained in so many of the ancient pathways.
But the mystics of the Torah never doubted the veracity of the story. There was indeed a huge tidal destruction of the inhabited world. Why? Was it an act of cosmic wrath?
Not really. Kabbalah teaches that the foremost energy that guides the cosmos is that of chessed — goodness and compassion.
Wrath is incompatible with this spiritual posture. There is clearly something much more sublime in the account of the flood.
Anyone who has been involved in renovating their house will recall those moments of self-doubt: I should have started right from scratch rather than tinkered with a bit here and bit there.
But starting from scratch also destroys the memories and the emotions that are the fabric of our context and consciousness.
What we would desire is the best of both worlds: a house with clean aesthetic lines and function, while retaining the warmth and hominess of its antecedent. We want to clean it up.
Something went wrong — not with creation, but with the "wild card" — the joker of the pack — the human being. The cosmic house had to be renovated. Noah was chosen as builder-foreman.
That is why the Chassidic master, Rabbi Shneur Zalmen of Liadi, describes the flood as a cleansing process. The waters of the flood are like the waters of a ritualarium — a mikveh — where the waters spiritually cleanse the dross that accumulates in the course of our life's endeavors.
The world received a spiritual cleansing, and this set the course of history on a course of hope and purpose.
Noah's is not a story. It is an account of spiritual redirection. Noah's very name reflects the positive nature of the events. The name "Noah" is etymologically connected to the word for inner peace and tranquility.
This describes the mind and heart of the world after the "clean-up" of the flood. Just as a mikveh has to have 40 seah (an ancient measure of volume) of "living" waters, so did the rains of the flood last for forty days.
In all seeming adversity there is both opportunity and positivity. It may not always be apparent — even if we look for it. But it is there. But that is only true of true stories.
The fiction that derives from a finite human mind cannot contain the code for eternal truths. Hence the bias against fiction.
MASTERY: Every moment and place has a doorway for our entry. But we may not have the agility to enter with ease or elegance. Our clothes may become soiled.
Our thoughts may become confused. Our feelings may be inappropriate. How many words do we say that later we would like to retract?
How many thoughts do we think that we would like to recant? Therefore be pure in the spiritual clothes you wear. Be spiritually agile. Move elegantly through the trappings of life.
MEDITATION: Sit silently and recall your last meaningful conversation. What door did this episode open? Replay your words in your mind and determine what legacy they left — both for you and the other.
What feelings did that conversation awaken in you? Are these optimal? Could they be spiritually refined, even now, long after the conversation has ended?
Every week, perhaps on Shabbat, enter your ark and rise above the turbulent waters of everyday affairs. Enter your spiritual spa and purify both body and soul.