Parashath Noah (Genesis VI,9-XI,32) 10/28/11

A.

Our parasha deals with the end of the first major period of human development and the beginning of the current period; the transition between the two is marked by the cataclysmic event called the Mabbul, described in our parasha, often very misleadingly translated into English as “The Flood.” Some inkling of its true character may be drawn from the derivation of the word mabbul from a root which means “confusion, chaos”; with the Mabbul, the physical laws were suspended and the entire universe reworked.

The central character in this awful drama is Noah, whom our parasha introduces as follows: אלה תולדת נח נח איש צדיק תמים הי' בדרתיו את האלקים התהלך נח (“These are the products of Noah; Noah was a perfectly righteous man [ish tzaddiq tamim] in his generations; Noah walked about with G-d”; VI, 9). This sounds like high praise indeed, and it appears to be echoed by G-d a bit later, when He personally tells Noah: כי אתך ראיתי צדיק לפני בדור הזה (“...for you do I see righteous [tzaddiq] before Me in this generation”; VII, 1).

Yet Hazal famously see ambiguity in the first statement, expressed as a mahloqeth, a dispute between Rabbi Yohanan and Reish Laqish, the former seeing in the word bë-dorothav, “in his generations”, that Noah was a tzaddiq only by the rather low and depraved standards of his time, but in other times should not have been so, whilst the latter sees praise in this word, too, learning that Noah was a tzaddiq despite his origin in the debased age immediately preceding the Mabbul (סנהדרין ק"ח.).

The sharp-eyed reader will have noted a couple of other nuances in comparing the two verses cited above:

1. Why does the first verse tell us that Noah was a tzaddiq tamim, whilst later G-d uses the word tzaddiq only, without the additional attribute?

2. Why should the first verse use the peculiar plural term bë-dorothav, when we would have expected simply bë-doro, “in his generation”, not least because G-d refers to him as living ba-dor ha-ze, “in this generation” (and not “in these generations”)?

B.

The third Ozherover Rebbe, Rabbi Arye Yëhuda Leibush ha-Lévi Epstein זצוק"ל, asks our questions in the Birkath Tov. To grasp his answers, a bit of background helps.

The great 20th century physicist Louis de Broglie demonstrated that behind every physical object or phenomenon lies an abstract mathematical wave-function, capturing the essence of the phenomenon in such features as the magnitude, amplitude, wave-length, and so on, of the wave.

The metaphysical reality which generates this wave-function in the physical realm, and thus produces all the phenomena of what we consider to be reality, lies in the tzirufei ha-othiyoth, the combinations and permutations of the letters of the words in the Holy Language which describe those phenomena, and the various means of calculating gimatria, the numerical values of those words and letters.

With this in mind, consider the Holy Alphabet. Of its 22 letters, five, known by the acronym מנצפ"ך, have two forms, one occurring initially and medially in a word, the other occurring only finally. In a sense, then, they increase the size of the Holy Alphabet by adding five additional characters to the set, for a total of 27. For this reason, Hazal tell us, these letters designate Ha-Shem’s gëvuroth, His acts of overwhelming power and judgment (זה"ק ק"א. בסתרי תורה וע"ע עץ חיים שער י"ח פ"ה ושער כ"ה דרוש ב').

If we now return to our parasha and read on a bit, we find Ha-Shem telling Noah: קץ כל בשר בא לפני וגו' (“The end [qétz] of all flesh comes before Me....”; VI,13). The sëfarim ha-qëdoshim note that the gimatriya of qétz (190), can also be expressed by the othiyoth ha-gëvura tzadi-pé-chaf (עיי' שער הכונות דרושי ר"ה סוף דרוש ז' ודרוש ט' ופרי עץ חיים שער השופר פ"א ); the Rebbe adds: וכאשר לא הי' המתקה באותיות אלו גרמו למבול לבא (“and when there was no amelioration of those letters forthcoming, they caused the Mabbul to come”).

The key lies in the Rebbe’s pregnant words. Noah the navi’ was allowed to see the gathering storm clouds, as it were, before they became self-evident in the dramatic astronomical phenomena which immediately preceded the event itself (עיי' ברכות נ"ט.) in order that he do something to head it off.

Indeed, he managed to delay the looming disaster for a time. Noah was engaged in the construction of the teiva for 120 years (cf. Rashi on VI, 14 and VII, 4). This, Ramban suggests, is the reason that Noah is called a tzaddiq tamim bë-dorothav, “his generations” because, were it not for Noah’s zëchuth, no-one born within that 120-year period would have come into existence.

The Rebbe goes on to note that the salient quality of a supreme tzaddiq is encoded in the very word, for if we rearrange the four consonants which make up the word slightly, we find that they spell qétz dai. The word dai indicates a sufficiency, a completeness, as Hazal suggest in their definition of the Divine Name Shad-dai as מי שאמר לעולמו די (“He Who said to His world, Enough! [Dai!]”; חגיגה י"ב.), thereby halting the universe’s expansion from the initial, central point which had come into existence and shattered, expanding with a speed beyond that of light until, as the Ramban writes, הזמן תפסו, “time seized it,” and the familiar laws of physics took hold, including the limiting speed with which electromagnetic energy propagates in a vacuum, 300,000 km/sec. Thus, for 120 years, Noah’s tzidqiyuth was the deciding factor holding the catastrophe at bay.

C.

But he found no response, no resonance from amongst his contemporaries; Hazal characterize all of the antediluvian generations as מכעיסין ובאין, progressively angering and provoking G-d (אבות פ"ה מ"ב). The continued depravity and debasement of those generations exerted such a profound, countervailing force, warping the fabric of the cosmos, that the zëchuth of Noah’s personal tzidqiyuth was overwhelmed by it.

The Rebbe summarizes the matter: ובזה אתי שפיר דברי הכתוב "נח איש צדיק תמים הי' בדורותיו" רוצה לומר באלו הדורות אשר חי, ואם כי היו רשעים אף על פי כן זכותו הגין עליהם והוא בחינת צדיק תמים דהוא בבחינת "קץ די", שאמר לקץ די, שלא יחריב העולם כו' ואך אחר כך כאשר בא המבול באותו הדור ולא יכול עוד זכותו להגין עליהם ולומר די, אזי אינו בבחינת תמים במדה שנקרא צדיק בבחינת "קץ די" (“And with this the words of Scripture fit well, ‘Noah was a perfect tzaddiq in his generations”, i.e., in those generations in which he lived; and even if they were rësha‘im, nonetheless his zëchuth protected them, and he was the exemplar of a perfect tzaddiq who is the exemplar of qétz dai, in that he said to the qétz “dai”, that it not destroy the universe... And only afterwards, when the Mabbul came in that [final] generation and his zëchuth was no longer able to protect them and say, "Dai," then he was not in the class of tamim, in the sense that a tzaddiq is called the exemplar of qétz dai”).

Hence, Noah was a tzaddiq tamim for 120 years, throughout those generations which could be called “his”, for he defended them and made them possible. It was only on reaching that final, fateful generation, when his tzidqiyuth no longer availed to save anyone but himself and his immediate family, that he was stripped of the attribute tamim, for the cataclysm overwhelmed him.

D.

Rashi characterizes the mahloqeth supra as a contrast between Noah’s generation with that of Avraham, recasting Rabbi Yohanan’s argument: לפי דורו הי' צדיק ואילו הי' בדורו של אברהם לא הי' נחשב לכלום (“according to his generation, he was a tzaddiq, and had he been in Avraham’s generation, he would not have been considered anything”).

The reference invites comparison, for Avraham’s generation, too, was filled with rësha‘im, as we are reminded, for instance, in the episode of Sëdom and ‘Amora. Avraham prayed desperately on their behalf but, unable to find 10 decent inhabitants of the cities whose names have since become a synonym for depravity, his zëchuth, too, was only sufficient to save his relative Lot.

The point of contrast, I believe, can be discerned by comparing the language of our verse – צדיק תמים כו' את האלקים התהלך נח – with what G-d later says to Avraham: אני א-ל שד-י התהלך לפני והי' תמים (“I am É-l Shad-dai, walk about before Me [hithhalléch lë-fanai] and be tamim”; Genesis XVII, 1). The language is so strikingly similar that our attention is immediately drawn to the subtle difference between walking “with” (eth) G-d and walking “before” (li-fnei) Him.

In comments on Numbers XXII, 12 and 20, the Ha‘améq Davar notes the two words in the Holy Language translatable “with,” eth and ‘im, explaining that the first is a purely comitative expression of accompaniment – “I went with you to town” – whilst the second signifies whole-hearted unity of purpose – “I’m with you”.

Noah certainly worked diligently to build and stock the teiva; as Rashi explains: למה הטריחו בבנין זה כדי שיראוהו אנשי דור המבול עוסק בה ק"כ שנה ושואלין אותו מה זאת לך והוא אומר להם עתיד הקב"ה להביא מבול לעולם אולי ישובו (“Why did He bother him with this construc-tion? So that people of the Mabbul generation would see him occupied with it 120 years, asking him, What is this to you?, and he would tell them, The Holy One, Blessed is He is going to bring Mabbul to the world; perhaps they would repent”). They had to come to Noah.

Now watch Avraham at work. When the mal’achim left his tent to overturn Sëdom and ‘Amora, Avraham accompanied them, aware of their mission, ועודנו עמד לפני ד', “still standing li-fnei Ha-Shem” (XVIII, 22), remonstrating with them: Will tzaddiqim suffer with rësha‘im? What if there are 50, 45, 40, 30, 20 tzaddiqim.... Only when it became clear that there was no-one worth saving but Lot did he stop.

That is the difference between the rather passive hithhalléch eth ha-Eloqim, and the active, dynamic hithhalléch lë-fanai which G-d clearly considers the prerequisite for establishing and maintaining the tzaddiq tamim, and with it the power to say dai. This was what G-d really wanted from Noah (as the Rebbe implied above), not the mere passive announcement that the Mabbul was coming, “perhaps they would repent.” Like everything else in this world, without constant attention and input, tzidqiyuth falls prey to entropy, withers, and dies.

Through Noah’s tziddqiyuth, exemplary in so debased an age, the final antediluvian generations were “his,” his “products” or “offspring (both possible translations of the word tolëdoth in the first verse. But through his passivity, the quality of his tzidqiyuth gradually decayed, so that the rish‘uth and consequent fate of those generations were also, in some measure, his tolëdoth.

Parshath Noah (Genesis VI,9-XI,32) 10/8/10

A.

אלה תלדת נח נח איש צדיק תמים הי' בדרתיו את האלקים התהלך נח:(“These are the outcomes of Noah; Noah was a perfect, righteous man [ish tzaddiq tamim]; Noah went about with G-d”). Thus begins our parasha, with what appears to be a ringing endorsement of Noah’s sterling qualities.
Yet, on careful reading, one is struck by a certain ambiguity in the inclusion of the word bë-dorothav, “in his generations,” an ambiguity which has sparked a millennia-long debate whose terms are encapsulated in the Talmud: רבי יוחנן אמר בדורותיו ולא בדורות אחרים וריש לקיש אמר בדורותיו וכל שכן בדורות אחרים (“Rabbi Yohanan said, 'In his generations [he was a tzaddiq], but not in other generations'; and Réysh Laqish said, 'In his generations, and how much more so in other generations'”; סנהדרין ק"ח.). In other words, the question is whether Noah qualified as a tzaddiq by some absolute standard, despite the depraved time in which he lived, or was he a tzaddiq only in relation to those times and the immoral behavior which characterized them?

Subsequent to the Torah’s apparent endorsement of Noah’s tzidqiyuth, whilst G-d is informing him of the advent of the Mabbul and the imminent end of the world, G-d explains that Noah and his family would be spared כי אתך ראיתי צדיק לפני בדור הזה (“...For you have I seen [to be a] tzaddiq in this generation”; VII, 1). It certainly appears as though the Torah comes down on the side of Rabbi Yohanan in the debate above. Nonetheless, there is a way to read the passage that is still in accord with Réysh Laqish, as we find in the opinion of Rabbi Yirmëya ben El‘azar elsewhere in the Talmud: מלמד שמקצת שבחו של אדם אומרים וכולו שלא בפניו (“[It] teaches that one should say part of a man’s praise before him, and all of it [only] not in his presence”; עירובין י"ח:), i.e., G-d has left the word tamim, “perfect,” out of his characterization of Noah to his face, but told us that he was a tzaddiq tamim elsewhere.

So, the controversy remains open.

B.

The third rebbe in the dynasty of Ozherov, Rabbi Yëhuda Leibush ha-Lévi Epstein, offers a fascinating insight into the matter in his Birkath Tov, but in order to appreciate it fully, some background is necessary.

We begin by recalling from the Creation account in last week’s parasha that every stage of the bëri’a, yëtzira, and ‘asiya (“creation, formation, and making”) of our physical universe is marked by a Divine amira, a “saying” or “pronouncement.” The word compels the notion of the use of language, and, as Hazal tell us, the Torah preëxisted the world, and was the “blueprint,” as it were, according to which Creation unfolded in all its stages: קודב"ה אסתכל באורייתא וברא עלמא (“The Holy One, Blessed is He, looked into the Torah and created the world”; זוה"ק ח"ב קס"א: וע"ע בראשית רבה פ"א סי' ב'). The Torah, of course, is composed of words formed with the twenty-two letters of the Holy Language (twenty-seven, if we count the special forms with which five of the letters are written at the ends of words). These letters and their sequencing within the words of the Holy Language encode all of the metaphysical information underlying the mathematical wave functions which describe every object and phenomenon in the cosmos.

It is this encoding of physical reality and its administration to which King David alludes when he sings לעולם ד' דברך נצב בשמים (“For the world [Lë-‘olam], Ha-Shem, is Your word established in the heavens”; Psalms CXIX, 89).

Next, it is necessary to appreciate that the Mabbul was a far more cosmic and cataclysmic event than is implied in the bland English word “flood.” As the Talmud makes clear, it was a wrenching resetting of the entire cosmos, one which began with, and incorporated, fearful, awe-inspiring celestial events (עיי' ברכות נ"ח-נ"ט,, ראש השנה י"א., ירושלמי תענית פ"א ה"ג,מדרש הגדול נח י"א, ירושלמי פסחים פ"א ה"א, ילקוט שמעוני בראשית רמז נ"ז, בראשית רבה פכ"ה סי' ב' וסנהדרין ק"ח:, הגהות ריעב"ץ שם, בין השאר). The very word is derived from a root meaning “confusion, chaos,” as is clear from that root’s employment near the end of our parasha to express G-d’s confounding of human language, a root which underlies the name by which Mesopotamia has ever more been known in the Holy Language, Bavel (XI, 7-9).

C.

With this in mind, the rebbe begins by pointing out that, when G-d begins to describe the Mabbul to Noah, He says: קץ כל בשר בא לפני (“[The] end [qétz] of all flesh has come before Me...”; VI,13). In other words, He calls the Mabbul a qétz. The rebbe then notes that Hazal inform us that the five letters with final forms are reserved for gëvuroth, “mighty” or “powerful” acts, such as are even described in English as “acts of G-d,” (עיי' זוה"ק ח"א ק"א. בסתרי תורה וע"ע עץ חיים שער י"ח פרק ה' ושער כ"ה דרוש ב'), and that several sources indicate that three of those letters, צפ"ך, have the gimatriya, the numerical value, of qétz, that is, 190 (עיי' שער הכוונות דרושי ר"ה דרוש ז' [בסוף] וט' ופרי עץ חיים שער השופר פ"א).

So, we see that qétz refers to the Mabbul, with the full, cosmic, “act of G-d” implications of the event. This, says the rebbe, explains Noah’s role as a tzaddiq, for the four letters of the word tzaddiq in the Holy Language also spell the words qétz dai, “the end is enough,” שהצדיק נותן לאלו האותיות והשמות קץ שיהי' די, שיהי' במדה ובמשקל שלא יחריבו העולם וכמו"ש ש-די, שאמר לעולמו די. וכמו כן נקרא צדיק שאומר לבחינת קץ שיהי' די (“for the tzaddiq gives to these letters and words a qétz, that it be enough, that it be in a measure and weight such that the world will not be utterly destroyed, as Hazal said, ‘[The Divine name] Shad-dai [signifies] that He said to His world, "Enough!"’ [חגיגה י"ב.], and similarly [Noah] is called a tzaddiq because he says to the categorical qétz that it be enough”).

The rebbe then focuses on a different aspect of our two verses, the contrast between the terms bë-dorothav, “in his generations,” in the first verse, and ba-dor ha-ze, “in this generation,” in the second. Why should the first verse refers to Noah’s “generations,” in the plural, where we would expect to find instead , “in his generation”?

Ramban writes, in commenting on VI, 9, that this is in refers to the fact that Noah lived a long time, and hence saw several generations, each one worse than the last. The Torah notes (VII, 11) that Noah was 600 years old at the onset of the Mabbul; Rashi, commenting on VI, 14, tells us that G-d instructed Noah on all the details of building the téva, the vast box of gofer wood, כדי שיראוהו אנשי דור המבול עוסק בה ק"כ שנה ושואלין אותו מה זאת לך והוא אומר להם עתיד הקב"ה להביא מבול לעולם אולי ישובו (“in order the the people of the generation of the Mabbul would see him involved in it for 120 years and ask him, 'What is this to you?' And he would tell them, 'The Holy One, Blessed is He, is destined to bring a Mabbul to the world'; perhaps they would repent”).

Noah must have been 480 years old when he received the order to begin building the téva. At that point he had already seen many generations, שכל הדורות היו מכעיסין ובאין עד שהביא עליהם מי המבול (“for al the generations were increasingly angering [G-d] until He brought upon them the waters of the Mabbul”; אבות פ"ה מ"ב).

Throughout all those generations הי' יכול נח הצדיק להגן בעדם בזכותו ואך כאשר גברו מאד אזי לא יכול זכותו עוד להגן בעדם (“Noah the tzaddiq was able to protect them with his merit, and only when [the evil deeds of the others] became very overwhelming, then his merit was no longer able to protect them”). ואם כי היו רשעים אף על פי כן זכותו הגין עליהם (“And even though they were rësha‘im, even so his merit protected them”), ואך אחר כך כאשר בא המבול באותו הדור ולא יכול עוד זכותו להגן עליהם ולומר די כו' שבדור הזה אשר לא יכול עוד לעכב הפורעניות אזי לא יכול להקרא צדיק תמים וגו' (“And only afterwards when the Mabbul came in that generation and his merit was no longer able to protect them and say, ‘Enough!’... For in this generation when he could no longer prevent the disaster, then he could no longer be called a tzaddiq tamim....”). Noah was stripped of his title, as it were, and became a common, garden variety tzaddiq, still a rare enough commodity in that debased age.

‘Ad kan the Birkath Tov. We find this same concept of the “ripening” or “maturation” of iniquity elsewhere in the Torah. For instance, in Genesis XV, 16, Avraham learns that his descendants would not return to the Holy Land from Egyptian exile until the fourth generation, כי לא שלם עון האמרי עד הנה (“for the iniquity of the Emori is not complete until then”), and Rashi adds: להיות משתלח מארצו עד אותו זמן שאין הקב"ה נפרע מאומה עד שתתמלא סאתה שנאמר "וסאסאה בשלחה תריבנה" (“to be driven out of his land, for the Holy One, Blessed is He, is not avenged upon a nation until its measure is filled, as it is said [Isaiah XXVII, 8], ‘In full measure you contend [with] her by sending her away’”).

What indicated mëlo’ ‘avonam, the “fullness of their iniquity”? Rashi provides a clue in his comment toVII, 4, when G-d warns Noah כי בימים עוד שבעה אנכי ממטיר על הארץ (“For in another seven days I [shall be] raining on the earth”): It seems that there had also been another tzaddiq: אלו ז' ימי אבלו של מתושלח הצדיק שחס הקב"ה על כבודו ועכב את הפורענות וגו' (“These were the seven days of mourning for the tzaddiq Mëthushelah, for the Holy One, Blessed is He, was concerned for his honor and delayed the disaster....”). It was the combined tzidqiyuth of Noah and Mëthushelah which held the Mabbul at bay despite the rising depravity of the day.

Mëthushelah’s death was the last warning to the dor ha-Mabbul to repent; perhaps they would recognize their loss, and mourn for him. Instead, they threw a party, and the disaster was on....

D.

We see from this how precious every tzaddiq is to us, in every generation. Hazal assure us that there are 36 such tzaddiqim in every generation (סוכה מ"ה.), but it is in the nature of such a tzaddiq that he carry out the prophet’s injunction of הצנע לכת עם אלקיך (“Walk modestly with your G-d”; Micha VI, 8), and so we do not know who they are. For this reason, the death of every tzaddiq, of every great Torah scholar, should fill us with concern and foreboding, lest the generation’s iniquity “ripen,” and we lose our last defense against impending disaster.

This parasha offers a glimpse behind the curtain, and a timely reminder that G-d’s sense of timing is not ours, that His assessment of tzidqiyuth and greatness can have very far-reaching consequences indeed.

Parshath Noach (Genesis VI,9-XII,32) 10/23/09

A.

G-d informs Noach of His intent to wipe the earth’s surface clean of life and start over again. The only survivors are to be Noach, his family, and the animals which they manage to preserve.
To this end, He instructs Noach to built a téva, a great box of gofer wood, in which to ride out the events. In the course of specifying the téva, G-d orders: צהר תעשה לתבה ואל אמה תכלנה למעלה ופתח התבה בצדה תשים תחתים שנים ושלשים תעשה: (“A tzohar shall you make for the téva, and to an amma shall you complete it above, and the door of the téva shall you place in its side; second and third lower decks shall you make”; VI, 16).

The question arises as to what, precisely, a tzohar is. As Onqelos translates it into Aramaic nahor, “light,” one might be justified in calling it a window. Indeed, Rashi tells us: יש אומרים חלון ויש אומרים אבן טובה המאירה להם (“There are those who say [it is a] window, and there are those who say [it is a] precious stone which gave off light for them”); his source is the midrash (בראשית רבה פל"א סי' י"ב ).

But if a window (challon, as Rashi writes) is intended, the obvious question is why this perfectly good Biblical word is not used in the verse. Furthermore, if a window is intended, the specifications are very vague: There is no mention of its size or position on the téva, just a statement that it is to be one amma “up”, which seems insufficiently clear for a window meant to admit light.

To this can be added the objection that, since the Mabbul began with a massive cloudburst, flooding the earth, it seems unlikely there would be much natural light to be had through the lowering clouds (indeed, the Talmud tells us that the sun and the moon were not in service during the Mabbul; whatever the precise meaning of that statement, it would seem to imply that they were not illuminating the earth’s surface (עיי' סנהדרין ק"ח:, הגהות יעב"ץ שם ).

All of which seems to conduce towards the second explanation, the even tova or precious stone.

B.

The Torah Tëmima offers another suggestion as to why a tzohar is probably not a window. He first calls our attention to the fact that, in addition to the midrash, the Talmud also comments on this passage: א"ר יוחנן א"ל הקב"ה לנח קבע בה אבנים טובות ומרגליות כדי שיהיו מאירין לכם כצהריים (“Said Rabbi Yochanan, 'Said the Holy One, Blessed is He to Noach, "Establish in [the téva] precious stones and pearls, so that they will shine for you like noon [ka-tzohorayim]"'”; סנהדרין שם). The etymological relationship between tzohar and tzohorayim seems clear enough.

He then points to the beginning of our parasha, where we learn that Noach איש צדיק תמים הי' בדורותיו (“Noach was a perfectly righteous man in his generations”), on which the Talmud also comments, a page earlier: א"ר יוחנן בדורותיו ולא בדורות אברהם (“Said Rabbi Yochanan, 'In his gene-rations, and not in Avraham’s generations'”). Rabbi Yochanan, in other words, understood that Noach was a tzaddiq only relative to his uniquely evil and depraved contemporaries; had he lived in Avraham’s time, he would have been nothing special.

With this in mind, the Torah Tëmima cites another midrash, this one commenting on Genesis XIX, 17, in which the mal’ach sent to rescue Lot from Sdom tells him אל תבט אחריך (“Do not look back”) and the midrash explains that the mal’ach meant: שאינך כדאי להנצל ולראות במפלתן של רשעים (“for you are not fit to be saved and witness the evil-doers’ downfall”). Thanks to Avraham, Lot was rescued, but was not to witness the comeuppance of the rësha‘im amongst whom he had been living.

Rabbi Yochanan, he says, thought much the same of Noach: A window both lets in light, and also allows the occupants to see what is going on outside. Noach had sufficient merit, as the most righteous member of a depraved generation, to be rescued, but to witness the end of his erstwhile neighbours in the maelström which led off the Mabbul. Hence, there was no window.

The dërasha seems apt, but is marred, it seems to me, by one inconvenient circumstance: If we read on a bit farther in our parasha, we learn, VIII, 6, that the téva indeed had a window, and the verse calls it a challon.

So it appears that we must dig a little deeper to resolve the mystery of the tzohar.

C.

The Maharal mi-Prag is also bothered by this question, raising the objections to defining tzohar as a synonym for challon we have above. He offers another, deeper explanation for Rabbi Yochanan’s vision of precious stones and pearls (note the gëmara’s plurals): ויראה לי שהתורה עשתה בנין התיבה על דרך החכמה שיהי' דומה לגמרי לכלל העולם ולפיכך הי' לה תחתיים שניים ושלישים כמו שיש לכלל העולם שלשה עולמות וכדי שלא יהי' חסר מאור קבע בה אבן המאירה להם כו' והי' קבוע בה אבנים דומים לשמש ולירח ולכוכבי השמים וגו' (“and it appears to me that the Torah made the structure of the téva scientifically to be completely similar to the general universe, and therefore it had second and third lower decks, just as the universe has three [constituent] worlds; and so that it should not lack a luminary, he fixed in it a luminous gem for them... and there were fixed in it stones resembling the sun and the moon and the stars of the heavens....”; גור ארי' עה"פ). As the chachmei ha-emeth inform us, the universe consists of three realms, those of bëri’a, yëtzira, and ‘asiya. The téva was designed to emulate the cosmos as a whole (עיי' למשל לשם שבו ואחלמה שער ג' פ"א).

Why should that be? One must remember that the Mabbul was no mere flood, and to call it that is misleading in the extreme. The root from which the word mabbul is derived actually means “disarray, disorder, chaos, confusion.” Human beings were created as the pinnacle of Creation, the ultimate purpose for which the universe had come into being. If each stage of Creation was tov, “good,” it was only with the advent of the creature for whose sake the whole show came into existence that it was termed tov më’od, “very good.”

And now, the majestic adam had so abused and misused his abilities, so tarnished the bright potential with which he had been endowed, that there was no longer any point to that show. The only universe left, then, was that which housed the survivors, the seeds, as it were, of the second chance and the brave new world.

That is why the téva was made to emulate the cosmos, and therefore why these uniquely lumini-ferous precious stones were used to illuminate its interior, in imitation of the celestial bodies.

D.

The Birkath Tov also weighs in on the matter of the meaning of the tzohar, and finds in the word a fundamental quality and characteristic built into our universe. That it is possible by means of tëfilla to effect change in our circumstances.

At first blush, this seems very difficult to comprehend, given that Rambam categorically informs us that one of the things inherent in Divine is that He does not change, since any change would imply either that something was lacking earlier which has now been perfected, or that a previous state of perfection has now been downgraded (הל' יסודי התורה פ"א הלי"'א).

The Birkath Tov quotes the Ba‘al Shem Tov as explaining that “change” of the sort which can be effected by tëfilla is inherent in the warp and woof of the cosmos. This can be discerned from the Ba‘al Shem’s view of a verse in Tëhillim, לעולם ד' דברך נצב בשמים, which can be read: “For the sake of the universe (‘olam), Ha-Shem, Your word is established in the heavens”; Psalms CXIX, 89; וע"ע מדרש שוחר טוב עה"פ). The universe came into being, we learnt last week, through Divine utterances, “And G-d said....” The words of those utterances, in the letters of the Holy Language, sustain every object, eventuality, and phenomenon in the cosmos. Those letters themselves, the product of the Divine utterance, cannot be changed, as Rambam writes. But they can be re-arranged, and our parasha and the word tzohar tell us how.

Note, says the Birkath Tov, that the word tzohar, as we have already observed, means great brightness and clarity, sharply delineating the fine distinctions of din. But when the need is for even greater mercy in the world, remember that Noach was instructed to make “second and third” decks.

Tzohar is spelt tzadi-hé-réysh. From the identical letters is formed the word tzara, “trouble, woe”; in the Mabbul there was that aplenty. But if we can make צירופים תחתיים, “substitute combinations,” then moving the third letter to the front of the word yields ha-tzar, suggesting that the first stage to resolving the issue at hand was to obey the mitzva to shelter from the general destruction in a small, constrained place, a maqom tzar, that is, the téva itself.
If we then move the second letter to the fore, we obtain the word ratza, a verb expressing desire or will (ratzon), that our prayers and actions be acceptable, and the outcome be as we hope.
This, then, is the tzohar, the brilliant, bright insight provided by the Mabbul, of how it is that Divine Mercy comes to temper Divine Judgment, within the constraints of the halacha, and how we, too, should respond to the crises we face.

Parshath Noach (Genesis VI,9-XI,32) 10/12/07

A.

At the end of last week’s parasha we were introduced to Noach ben Lemech, the protagonist of this week’s parasha. נח איש צדיק תמים הי' בדרתיו, the Torah tells us: “Noach was a righteous, perfect man in his generations.” (VI, 9)

The Talmud (סנהדרין ק"ט.) picks up on that tell-tale phrase “in his generations,” and records a controversy which has come down through the centuries. As Rashi summarises it: יש מרבותינו דורשים אותו לשבח, כל שכן, שאילו הי' בדור צדיקים הי' צדיק יותר, ויש שדורשים אותו לגנאי, לפי דורו הי' צדיק ואילו הי' בדורו של אברהם לא הי' נחשב לכלום (“There are some of our rabbis who interpret this as praise, so much so that had he lived in a generation of tzaddiqim he would have been even more righteous; and there are those who interpret it as shame: In his generation he was a tzaddiq, but had he lived in the generation of Avraham he would not have been considered anything”).

The Midrash Tanchuma appears to come down on the latter side of this issue, telling us: תמים הי' בדור המבול ובדור הפלגה, שאילו הי' בדורו של אברהם אבינו לא מצא ידיו ורגליו (“He was perfect in the generation of the Mabbul and the Dispersion, but had he been in the generation of Avraham our father, he would not have found his hands and feet;" פרשת נח סי' ה').

The usage of the midrash is curious; in Talmudic usage, “he would not find his hands and feet” implies helpless confusion (עיי' למשל גיטין מ"ח. ויבמות ע"ז:). Yet, our midrash does not seem to say that Noach would have been confused, but that he would have been a lesser tzaddiq than Avraham. So what does the peculiar wording mean?

B.

To begin our search for understanding, we turn elsewhere in the Tanchuma, where we find: אשריכם ישראל שבכל אבר ואבר שבכם נתן מצוה (“Happy are you, Israel, for apposite each and every limb in you [G-d] has given a mitzva;” פרשת שמיני סי' ח').

Indeed, as Chazal understand human anatomy there are 248 “limbs” (évarim) in the human body, one for each of the 248 מצות עשה (“positive mitzvoth”). As he goes through his daily life, performing mitzvoth as they come to him, the observant Jew can truly sing, along with King David כל עצמותי תאמרנה ד' מי כמוך (“All my bones say: Ha-Shem, who is like You?”; Psalms XXXV, 10).

Very well, but which mitzvoth apply to which évar? Do we have any idea how that assignment was decided?

Next week’s parasha tells us, amongst other things, of the War of the Five Kings. The kings of five Canaanite cities, amongst them Sdom and Amora, had been tributary to Kedorlaomer, king of Elam. They raised the flag of revolt, and Kedorlaomer launched a punitive expedition into Canaan against them, in alliance with three other powerful states. The invading allies won the initial engagements, sacking the cities of Sdom and Amora. Among the captives taken was Avraham’s nephew, Lot.

When Avraham learnt that his nephew was a prisoner, he mounted a rescue operation. Catching the invading army in camp at night, he routed them, and they fled in panic northwards out of the country, abandoning their booty and captives. The king of Sdom tried to reward Avraham for his actions by offering him the booty, but Avraham refused, saying: אם מחוט ועד שרוך נעל ואם אקח מכל אשר לך ולא תאמר אני העשרתי אברם (“Not a thread or a shoe-strap will I take of yours, and you will not say, I enriched Avram;” XIV, 23).

To understand Avraham’s refusal, remember that Sdom and Amora were cities with deservedly bad reputations for cruelty and rapacity, so much so that subsequently, when the “outcry” of Sdom and Amora had “reached G-d” (Genesis XVIII, 20-21) and Avraham learnt of the Divine intent to destroy these evil places (which Avraham had shunned since coming into the Holy Land), he was unable to find ten decent people amongst their citizens (ibid., 32ff.).

Avraham therefore wanted nothing of the plundered wealth of Sdom, much of which itself had been looted or plundered by one means or another from others. He preferred to rely upon the providence of Ha-Shem. Accordingly, the midrash tells us: בשכר שאמר אברהם אם מחוט ועד שרוך נעל זכו בניו לשתי מצות (“As a reward for Avraham’s saying ‘not a thread or shoe-strap’, his sons merited two mitzvoth”). The midrash goes on to discuss what the two mitzvoth were, concluding רצועה של תפילין ומצות חליצה (“the strap of t'fillin and the mitzva of chalitza”; ילקוט שמעוני רמז ע"ו).

T’fillin are of course the leather boxes bearing verses from the Torah referred to in Deuteronomy VI, 4: וקשרתם לאות על ידך והיו לטטפות בין עיניך (“And you will bind them as a sign on your hand and they will become frontlets between your eyes”; cf. also Exodus XIII, 16) with leather straps. Chalitza, the ceremony through which the widow of a man who has died childless and the man’s brother are freed from the obligations of yibbum (“levirate marriage”; cf. Deuteronomy XXV, 9-10) is performed with a shoe.

Returning now to our original quotation from the Midrash Tanchuma, one may, it seems to me, legitimately say that through his refusal to accept even the hint of ill-gotten gain, Avraham had found his “hands” (t’fillin) and his “feet” (chalitza).

But why should the midrash imply that Noach might not have?

C.

Noach lived during the last few centuries of the “heroic period” of human history, before the Mabbul, a period remembered by all the peoples of antiquity whose records have come down to us, however dimly, in inchoate and disjointed legends, as a time of immense cruelty, rapacity, and chronic warfare.

The Torah affords us two glimpses of what this time was like: In Genesis VI, 4 we find a laconic reference to גבורים אשר מעולם אנשי השם (“heroes who were of old, men of hashém”). Rashi explains the last term as referring to אנשי שממון ששממו את העולם (“men of destruction, who laid waste the world”). The second is in our parasha, where we read ותמלא הארץ חמס (“and the earth was filled with chamas”; VI, 11), a word which Rashi renders gezel, i.e., forcible expropriation, in support of which interpretation he adduces Jonah III, 8, in which the king of Assyria, bloodiest conquerors of the ancient Middle East, adjures each of his subjects to desist מדרכו הרעה ומן החמס שר בכפיהם (“from his evil ways, and from the chamas which [was] in their hands;” ע"ע אבן עזרא עה"פ שבפרשתנו).

In such a time, judged Chazal, Noach was a tzaddiq. He did not participate in the chronic conflict and associated looting which characterised the age in which he had been born and raised.
Certainly to be uncompromised in a debased age was no small thing. But Avraham also lived in a depraved era: One reason adduced by the midrash that Avraham was known as Avraham ha-Îvri (XIV,13) is that, morally and ethically, כל העולם כולו מעבר אחד ו מעבר אחד (“the entire world was on one side [éver] and he on the other”; ב"ר פמ"ב סי' י"ג ).

Chazal judged that Noach may have lacked the insight and vision to eschew the much more subtle moral compromise implicit in the Sdomi king’s offer to Avraham, insofar as it was “legally” offered by the sacked town’s sovereign in gratitude for his intervention. Our midrash seems to say that, had Noach been in Avraham’s shoes, he might have become confused, missed this opportunity for qiddush Ha-Shem, and as a consequence two mitzvoth would have gone missing from the Torah.

Why these two?

D.

The imagery and symbolism of t’fillin seem clear enough. By binding G-d’s word to his hand and forehead as one of the first actions of each morning, the Jew dedicates hand, heart, and mind to holy purposes. The metaphysical mind is nonetheless subject to physical influence, through sensory perceptions, etc., in this world. Therefore, the hand leads the way; binding physical actions to Divine service, subordinates the physical body to spiritual imperatives. It becomes the servant of the mind in sanctity, not the reverse.

Chalitza is more subtle. A reading of the passage in Deuteronomy cited supra clearly shows an intent of the ceremony to humiliate a recalcitrant yavam who refuses to carry out his duty to help his deceased brother complete the establishment of the household which he had started to build (cf. Sforno ad loc.).

Yet, as the Torah Tmima asks, that makes sense only if the yavam has a choice. In our day, for various reasons, chalitza is mandated. Even if the yavam yearns to fulfill the duty of yibbum with all his heart, béyth din prevents him; chalitza is his only option. Why, then, should he be humiliated?

The Torah Tmima notes that the Yerushalmi Yevamoth XII, 6 compares Deuteronomy XXV, 10 (ונקרא שמו בישראל בית חלוץ הנעל, “And his name shall be called in Israel the house of the one whose show was removed”) with Genesis XLVIII, 16 (ויקרא בהם שמי, “and they shall be called by my name”), and comments: בזה"ז מצוה בחליצה יותר מיבום כו' שבח הוא לו שציית דינא וחולץ במקום שרוצה לייבם (“at this time, chalitza is more of a mitzva than yibbum... It is praiseworthy that he obey the ruling and do chalitza when he wishes to do yibbum”). There is no longer any embarrassment or humiliation in chalitza.

Yet it still cries out for a deeper explanation, and some Rishonim offer one. The reason for yibbum may be found in Chazal’s pronouncement אין מיתה בלא חטא, “There is no death without sin.” There was some Divine calculus which brought about the untimely death without offspring of the one brother. By siring a son who will bear the deceased’s name, the yavam is enabling the gilgul (“reincarnation”) of the deceased’s neshama, providing him a second chance to make it in this world, and keeping it “in the family” (עיי' למשל פי' רבינו בחיי עה"ת וכתבי הרמב"ן שמארןכןם שם בזה).

Chalitza releases the right to provide a second chance for the neshama ha-mithgalgeleth so that anyone in Israel can marry the young widow and provide it. All of Klal Yisra’él become thereby one family, as it were, collectively responsible all the nishmoth Yisra’él.

Gezel constitutes a transgression which harms individuals and harms the society as a whole. By being so fastidious as to avoid even the merest shadow of impropriety, the midrash tells, Avraham was m’zakkeh Klal Yisra’él in the mitzva of personal dedication to Divine service (t’fillin) and also in the mitzva of the klal, our collective responsibility for us all; כל ושראל ערבים זה לזה (“All Israel are responsible for one another”).

Which Noach might not have merited to do.