A righteous man, blameless was Noah in his generation
Study presented after the Morning Minian at ARI
on-line via Zoom, October 27th, 2022
Opened on Saadiyat Island in Abu Dhabi on February 4, 12019, the Abrahamic Family House is a structure designed by architect David Adaye and consists of a mosque, a synagogue and a church united by unique foundations surrounding a garden
Genesis is pure poetry. It is to be read countless times and, with each reading, a new layer, a new meaning, is revealed. The density of the book of Genesis is a challenge to matter and physics. As liberal Jews, we extract from the text that takes us beyond what is written there. We take off from literality and take the flight of comprehension and understanding with contemporary times as a backdrop.
Parasha Noah is full of important matrices that have both inspired Hollywood epics and are indispensable symbols in our contemporary world. Everything happens in Noah: the regenerating flood on an Earth given over to injustice and corruption; the ruin of the Tower of Babel that generates confusion and misunderstanding; the mention of Abram and Sarai even before they became the patriarch Abraham and the matriarch Sarah; the dove with the olive branch – symbol of Peace on Earth and, since the arrival of Apollo 11 on the moon, Peace in the Universe; the rainbow as a representation of God’s covenant with all His creatures, without exception! This unconditional alliance led the rainbow to be a symbol of diversity, initially sexual and then gender, and, today, of political ideology and thought. Those who roam the Earth today were saved from the flood and thus graced with the unbreakable covenant with God – we all dance under the colors of the rainbow.
This alliance is universal! The rainbow appears in the sky equally for everyone. As universal as the rainbow are the seven laws of Noah, extracted from the verses of this parasha. Unlike the Ten Commandments, we do not choose to receive these laws. Noah’s laws are for all human beings who were saved from the flood. They are also the basic laws of the Abrahamic peoples.
In Noah, God sees “a righteous man in his generation” (Genesis 6:9). In Noah, God identifies hope in humanity and entrusts him with the task of being his partner in reestablishing a renewed, just and dignified world.
It is in this character, it is in Noah that the deputies of the Knesset in the modern State of Israel in 1953 were inspired to create one of the most significant Jewish honors and, I dare say, in the world. Those non-Jews who saved at least one Jewish life from the Holocaust receive the title of Righteous Among the Nations. These honored citizens were just, they walked with God, just as Noah did.
Even though we are reading the particularities of the constitution of the Israeli people in the Torah, this parasha forces us to expand our view of humanity.
God threatens the existence of the world as he had created it and extinguishes it, with the exception of the righteous man and his family and the species that are collected in the ark. God’s order was not to gather gold and silver, precious things or wealth. At that moment, the Creator essentially saved His creatures. I believe that God had no doubts about the human capacity for regeneration and overcoming – after all, we were created in His image and likeness, we are His partners, we are co-responsible for the world He gave us.
Because in the flood the physical and spiritual integrity of human beings was saved. The destructive waters of the flood are also regenerative. They open a window of opportunity for a fresh start, with adjustments, improvements, news. The flood manifests itself allegorically in our personal lives, in community life, and in nations.
“The future world, whose conquest is costing all peoples such a high price in lives, will not be worth the sacrifices made to achieve it if there is no better understanding among men.” With this statement, Rabbi Dr. Henrique Lemle z ‘l opens his 1944 book ‘O Drama Judaico’ (The Jewish Drama), published in Rio de Janeiro.
Dr. Lemle highlights an important aspect of Jewish identity when he says that “the Jewish religion is the crystal-clear mirror of the destiny of [the people of] Israel; its ceremonies and festivals recall and reconstruct the most important events of its tormented existence. Such memories and reconstructions of remote events of all kinds have always pointed out to the Israelites the essential factors of the reason for living.”
In the preface to his 1944 book, still in the middle of the Second World War, this next excerpt challenges us for its topicality: “The terrifying fire that in our days devours a large part of humanity has been fueled by error, prejudice, hatred. To avoid the repetition of these catastrophes in the future, it will be necessary for every human being to see each other as a brother.”
Dr. Lemle wrote like this not only because he was convinced of this, but also because he dedicated his studies and his work to the establishment of religious tolerance.
Religious tolerance was the subject of Dr. Lemle’s doctoral work at the University of Würzburg, in 1931, entitled “Mendelssohn and tolerance”, based on the work of the philosopher Moses Meldelssohn, who died in Berlin in 1786 and considered the father of the Jewish Enlightenment – the Hazkalah. In this work, Dr. Lemle discusses religious tolerance, based on the law of Natural Law, postulated by Mendelssohn, and dedicates a chapter to the equal rights of all confessions that, in his world, were restricted to the three Abrahamic religions and that today can, due to its humanistic and universal character, be undoubtedly extended to all confessions that we know and may come to know.
Memory transforms identity into something flexible and permeable, yet robust and indissoluble
Religious tolerance requires validation, respect, and a generous approach between religions and, essentially, among their followers. Tolerance is frailly supported by well-constructed identities. Especially within the Jewish community, the exercise of remembering and reliving events, in the uninterrupted rhythm of time, condenses one’s identity, without rigidifying it. Memory transforms identity into something flexible and permeable, yet robust and indissoluble.
The ark was metaphorically the divine tool for the salvation of humanity. The Abrahamic Accords signed in recent years between Israel and Bahrain, between Israel and the United Arab Emirates, between Israel and the Kingdom of Morocco and between Israel and Sudan are also a human construction with a view to establishing a world of understanding and tolerance, which Its symbol is our familiar dove with the olive branch.
In its text, the Treaty states: “We, the undersigned, recognize the importance of maintaining and strengthening peace in the Middle East and around the world based on mutual understanding and coexistence, as well as respect for human dignity and freedom, including religious freedom. We encourage efforts to promote interfaith and intercultural dialogue to advance a culture of peace among the three Abrahamic religions and all humanity.
We believe that the best way to address challenges is through cooperation and dialogue and that developing friendly relations among States advances the interests of lasting peace in the Middle East and around the world.
We seek tolerance and respect for every person in order to make this world a place where all can enjoy a life of dignity and hope, no matter their race, faith or ethnicity.”
To me, this is the most audacious expression of a post-flood world, of the message of the story of Noah: a righteous, blameless man was Noah in his generation, with God Noah walked.