Shabbat Noah
Written by David Mitchell Tuesday, 01 November 2005
D’VAR TORAH PARSHAT NOAH
Student Rabbi David Mitchell
This week we are biblically speaking, in somewhat of a turmoil; no sooner is our world created and the newly formed humans sent out to till the soil, than we are faced with sibling murder, the corruption of humanity and the destruction of creation through chaotic surges of water.
I suppose, reading Parshat Noah seems particularly poignant this year because of the way that humans around the world have been decimated by the might of water – both the Tsunami and Hurricanes Katrina & Rita have brought vast areas of the globe to a standstill causing immense loss of life, not to mention irrevocable physical, financial and emotional damage. The pictures of a giant tidal wave and the floods in New Orleans are just too much for us to fully comprehend. The horror I felt seeing the images captured on personal camcorders will always stick in my mind. Although it has certainly been overwhelming to witness the compassion with which much of the world has rallied around those in need, I can’t help but feel humbled by a force of nature that can indiscriminately wash away our homes and our lives.
This bumpy journey from Eden to the Ark makes us question the very purpose of human existence and the fragile relationship that we maintain between ourselves and our environment, and that is before we even start to consider the possibility of God’s role in these events.
Now if you were to look through the profound and miraculous account of creation found in Genesis chapter 1 – you will see that every day of Creation is described as either GOOD or VERY GOOD, except, that is Day 2, the day of creation when the waters are separated into those above and those below with an expanse or firmament dividing and containing them.
Most biblical commentators ask why only the acts of creation on the 2nd day are not referred to as GOOD. Rashi, suggests that something incomplete can never be good. He asserts that all acts of creation on the second day were not, in and of themselves complete, because they were only part of the creation of land and sea and this was not finished until the third day. Rashi points out that accordingly on the third day 2 things are separately referred to as GOOD; firstly the creation of sea and land and later the establishment of vegetation.
As an alternative to this Ramban, suggests that by separating the waters, God formed a rift; an act of destruction rather than an act of creation. Acts of destruction can never be described as purely GOOD.
However none of these speak to me. Looking through Midrash Rabbah, I came across an idea that ‘water’ the source of life is also the cause of real problems in the Torah. God’s chosen leader, Moses, commits his act of ultimate defiance when he hits a rock rather than coaxing it to offer forth its water. The very same water that divides to save the Children of Israel as they cross the Red Sea, comes crashing down with awesome power to annihilate the Egyptian army. Similarly the waters that carry to safety humanity’s future in Noah’s tiny ark are also decimating the world.
What I find terrifying is the suggestion that God created this space in the full knowledge that it could be removed to destroy the world. In fact if you look through the account of Noah’s flood, you will see in Genesis chapter 7 that the fountains of the great deep burst apart and the floodgates of the sky break open. In order to destroy the world God had to first reverse the creation of the firmament, thereby reuniting all the waters in an event of cataclysmic proportions.
Of all the elements and marvels of creation, water is the one with the most power to bring life, and the most power to take it away. Water sustains life, providing liquid to drink, fluids for sanitation, landmarks to define boundaries, fast moving seas and rivers for transport, and rain for our agriculture. At the same time, water can be an immense power of destruction reeking havoc through floods, devastatingly wiping out crops and livestock with drought, wrecking ships, swamping villages, surging into mammoth tidal waves of destruction that consume everything in their path.
At the time of the Tsunami I was a little taken-aback to see the front page of many newspapers with a large picture of the tidal wave together with the headline AN ACT OF GOD? I suppose it made me question my own theology - Why had this happened? Where was God? If God put God’s self into creation then how could this horrendous natural disaster be in any way related to a God of love and mercy? How could Creation be good? These questions have plagued me all year. What I do know is that following Hurricane Katrina, I was appalled by those supposedly religious leaders who described the devastation of New Orleans as an Act of divine retribution against a den of iniquity. That was not my God and those poor people were not sinners, not for one second.
Big events, that humble us, and shake the foundations of our society, by reminding us how fragile our Earth is, and how precarious our life is upon the terrain, can’t help but throw questions at those of us who endeavour to engage in a meaningful relationship with God.
One of the ways that I try to recognise God is by seeing her presence in the world around us. God who causes the sun to rise, who takes the fertilised egg and nine months later delivers an incredible baby. God who can be seen when looking up into the wondrous awe-inspiring heights of the mountains, or who is present in a breathtaking panorama. It would not be right to view this aspect of God as only being attached to that which we see as good and beautiful in nature. God is seen in a tiger, devastatingly beautiful but also a killer for pleasure. As William Blake so eloquently puts it:
“TIGER, tiger, burning bright
In the forests of the night,
What immortal hand or eye
Could frame thy fearful symmetry?”
God is in the earthquakes, the tidal waves and the droughts as much as God is in the rainbows and the sunsets. It is us who misinterpret that aspect of God as benevolent or malevolent – it is what it is – complex, somehow balanced, and powerful, beyond us and beyond our comprehension.
As a Geographer, I was trained to see the forces of nature as balanced – a process called dynamic equilibrium. If you built a sea wall on one part of a coast to protect a landmark or prevent a town flooding, then somewhere further up the coast the landscape will begin to erode or flood, thereby possibly requiring a sea wall of its own.
Now I am not for one minute suggesting that we shouldn’t try and control our environments and that we should just take natural disaster lying down – after all aren’t we told to CHOOSE LIFE, to live within our environment and somehow survive. I totally understand why the humans in Bable would choose to build a high tower following the flood. The problem with the tower of Bable is that humans seek to conquer God, to determine their own futures and to dominate their environments without considering the consequences of their actions.
Ultimately, what we can take from the beautiful story of creation is that the world is amazing, complex, hard and full of mystery.
What we can take from the flood is that nature can be dangerous, that life is precarious and that we exist alongside forces far bigger than ourselves.
What we get when we put the two together is an appreciation of our world, a glimpse of how easily it is destroyed and an insight into the complexity of determining what in our lives is Good, Very Good or Bad.
