Noah has perhaps the most unexpectedly complex image of any Biblical figure. From the perspective of the Written Torah, Noah is a pure and holy righteous man: “a tzaddik, perfect (tamim) in his generation”; one who “walked with God,” found favor in God’s eyes, and “a tzaddikin front of [God] in this generation” (Genesis 6:8–9; 7:1).
However, once one is exposed to the Oral Torah, one finds the Rabbis reversing the picture, so that any praise of Noah is mitigated or eliminated. Most well-known in this vein is the Talmudic passage that is cited by Rashi, containing a dispute over the word “b’dorotav,” signifying that Noah was a righteous man in “his generation”—suggesting, at least according to one view, that he was only righteous in comparison to his corrupt contemporaries, but in a righteous generation his stature would be less grand (Rashi to Genesis 6:9, citing Sanhedrin 108a; Bereishit Rabbah30:9). Perhaps more strikingly, we are told that Noah actually deserved to die with the rest of his generation, but, as the Torah states earlier, he “found favor” (Bereishit Rabbah 29:5–6 on chein; cf. 30:9). Even the Torah’s declaration that Noah “walked with God” is taken as a negative; implying, with different formulations offered in the Midrash, that Noah was like a child or an unfortunate who needs assistance in walking, and is thus escorted while others walk independently (Bereishit Rabbah 30:10; contrast Genesis 6:9 “walked with God” and 17:1 “walk before Me,” with Rashi ad loc.).
The haftarah for Parashat Noah contains the one clue from the Written Torah that there was room to criticize Noah: “For like the waters of Noah shall this be to Me: As I have sworn never again to pass the waters of Noah over the earth, so have I sworn not to be wrathful with you or to rebuke you” (Isaiah 54:9). The reference to the flood, on the surface, is the primary link to the parashah. However, its identification is surprising: Mei Noah, the “waters of Noah.” It would seem that a more appropriate name would be “The Waters of Everyone But Noah.” Noah, together with his family, were the lone survivors of the flood, the only ones deemed worthy of evading the destruction. It would seem odd, therefore, that the flood is named after him.
It is thus often assumed that the navi is indicating to us that Noah’s being selected to survive the flood notwithstanding, Noah, on some level, bore responsibility for it. While this idea is framed in different ways, a prominent version is found in the Zohar, which criticizes Noah for accepting God’s plan to destroy the rest of humanity and failing to pray on their behalf (Zohar I:67b–69a). In this, he is contrasted negatively with Abraham, who prayed and argued on behalf of the people of Sodom, and even more so with Moses, who prayed on behalf of the Jewish people after the sin of the golden calf, and offered up his legacy as well (Genesis 18; Exodus 32; Berakhot32a).
The portrayal of Noah as uninvolved with others is seemingly tempered by the rabbinic assertion that he did make an effort to influence his contemporaries, by preaching to them when they asked about his construction project (Bereishit Rabbah 30:7; Tanchuma, Noah 5–6, on the years of ark-building as rebuke). However, even this effort is invoked to his discredit. His lack of success in inspiring repentance is considered a reflection of his limited influence in general. Thus, the language of one Midrash emphasizes that criticism of Noah is due to his lacking the “power” to save his generation (Bereishit Rabbah 30:9–10). Whether this is a function of low spiritual standing, or reduced influence among his peers due to limited relationships, or other factors, is open to interpretation.
Perhaps it can be suggested that the ambiguity in assessing Noah’s stature comes from a single ambiguous trait. The Torah tells us that Noah found favor, chein, in the eyes of God, but does not tell us why that was so—what special quality Noah possessed that endeared him to God (Genesis 6:8; Rashi ad loc.; Bereishit Rabbah 30:3). While a number of theories are offered, many have suggested that the prized attribute he possessed is hinted at in his name, Noah, which suggested calmness. In other words, he was in control of his temperament, and did not give himself to anger. Indeed, the Talmud identifies one who doesn’t anger as one of three whom God loves (Pesachim 113b), and Noah is described (in the mussaf prayer on Rosh HaShannah) as one beloved by God.
(This theory, that Noah was prized for his avoidance of anger, is cited in the work Erekh Apayyim from the Sefer Charedim (9:42, mitzvot aseh min haTorah ha-teluyot ba-lev); see R. Avraham Ya’akov Pam, Atarah L’Melekh, pp. 9-10; Ohel Moshe, pp. 113-114; and R. Gedaliah Rabinowitz, Tiv HaTorah, p. 98; and note also Da’at Zekeinim and Ba’al HaTurim to “Eileh toledot Noach”, and Rashi, Avodah Zarah 6a, s.v.tamim. and Ritva to Avodah Zarah.)
However, the quality of not angering is itself an ambiguous one, a double-edged non-sword, so to speak. On the one hand, it is generally considered laudable to avoid anger which may even be an actual prohibition (See Sefer Charedim , ibid, and 21:17, and the discussion in R. Asi HaLevi Even Yuli, Shulchan Arukh HaMiddot, pp. 177-178), and Maimonides asserts that this is one area in which the “golden mean” is inapplicable—rather, one should avoid this trait completely (Hilkhot De’ot 2:3). On the other hand, a failure to anger can sometimes reflect a failure to respond to, or even to notice, injustice and immoral behavior in one’s orbit. Accordingly, the source of Noah’s chein may equally have been the source of his criticized passivity.
Striking the proper balance in this area is a practical challenge and a conceptual one as well, particularly in light of Maimonides’ advocacy of complete abjuring of the trait of anger. Apparently, the balance is not found in moderation of degree, but in identifying different stages in the anger process. For example, the Talmud states (Ta’anit 4a) that a Torah scholar who becomes angry is doing so because of the Torah (orayta hu d’ka mirtach lei), and is nonetheless instructed to conduct himself calmly. The implication seems to be that the initial instinct to anger is understandable and perhaps laudable; as Rashi indicates, it is the result of the enhanced sensitivity of the Torah scholar that he notices the moral deviations and injustices that disturb him. Nonetheless, the impact of this instinctive anger on behavior must be retrained and controlled; the justifiably angered Torah scholar is told to calm down.
Perhaps another element of this balance might be derived from looking to Noah, and noting yet another critical statement made of him in the rabbinic literature. Rashi, commenting on the Torah’s description of Noah’s entry into the ark (only) after the flooding started—mipnei ha-mabul—states that “even Noah was from those of inferior faith (mi-k’tanei emunah)” (Rashi to Genesis 7:7, citing Bereishit Rabbah 32:6; Tanchuma, Noah 5). In the original midrashic source the language is stronger: Noah is mimechusarei emunah, from those deficient of faith (Bereishit Rabbah 32:6; Tanchuma, Noah 5. An interesting perspective on the difference between the two terms can be found in Dei Ba’er, pp. 79-82).
While this seems to refer specifically to Noah lacking faith in God to follow up on the promised flood, there are grounds to extrapolate to a broader faith question relevant to the issue at hand. There are two types of faith that impact on one’s ability to maintain equilibrium in the face of provocation—neither losing oneself to uncontrolled rage nor losing one’s initiative in an apathetic passivity.
In order to react proactively to injustice, one must first have faith in their own ability to make a difference. A lack of such faith can result in the perception that all reaction is futile, and not worth the effort. There are indications that Noah had this mentality; for example, that the negative judgements who restricted Noah’s stature to his own generation were conveying that he perceived himself as limited and ineffective, “great” only by relative standards (Bereishit Rabbah 30:9). It would seem that this is the attitude that God was countering when, in connection with informing Noah of the flood, He simultaneously told him, “for it is you that I have seen to be righteous before Me in this generation” (Genesis 7:1). Indeed, the Zohar implies that after the flood, God expressed displeasure with Noah for not picking up on this “hint” (Zohar I:68a).
At the other extreme of anger imbalance is the issue that Noah is not accused of—the losing of oneself in rage. Interestingly, a comparison is drawn between anger and idolatry. The Talmud makes this parallel regarding one who breaks items while in a rage, and Maimonides more generally applies the comparison to anyone who “angers” (ha-ko’es) (Shabbat 105b; Hilkhot De’ot 2:3). Later authorities have argued that this comparison cannot be taken literally (See Resp. Binyan Tziyon, 171:3 and Resp. Torah L’Shmah,420). However, that would refer to its scope of application; no one would say, for example, that one who loses his temper is punished in the same way that an idolater is. The comparison, though, does reflect directly on the act of submitting to rage. Some have noted that the loss of control—or, put differently, the ceding of control to an alien force—is comparable to the worship of idols.
However, an additional aspect can be ascertained in the attitude of one who gives himself over to rage. The statement that is being made, however unconsciously, is that all is hopeless and infuriating. If one truly recognizes that God is controlling and directing the path of events, one is able to instead state that “all is for the best” and maintain equanimity.
Noah was at one extreme of a spectrum—not driven to anger, and praiseworthy for that; but also not moved to act, for a lack of belief that he was up to the task. The mishnah (Avot 2:21) teaches: “You are not expected to complete the task, nor are you permitted to withdraw from it”. It can be said that finding the right point on the “anger equilibrium” is correlated to dual components of faith: the faith in oneself that he can make a difference, and the faith in God that he does not need to make the difference by himself.
Rabbi Feldman
