Parashat Noach
October 18, 2023
Annie Watman, Chief Advancement Officer
The past two weeks have been absolutely horrific. Despite the fear, sadness, and anger we have all felt since October 7, I still want to believe that there are no coincidences in life, and that everything is divine providence. Reading this week’s parashah bolstered this view, as we see hamas, translated as violent lawlessness, discussed in the first few pesukim (verses). In a week where I’ve never said the word “Hamas” more, this parashah seemed particularly relevant to our current reality.
Because the word tzohar is not used anywhere else in Tanakh, there is uncertainty about its meaning. Rashi quotes a midrash where two rabbis are arguing about the definition of this word. One thinks a tzohar is a window, while the other insists that it’s a precious stone that miraculously emanates light from within itself. Lord Rabbi Jonathan Sacks z”l explains that the difference in interpretation can be traced to the etymological understanding of the word. Assuming the source of the word refers to tzahorayim, or afternoon, it follows that a tzohar would be a window which allows in the midday sun. Alternatively, tzohar could be related to zohar, the Hebrew word for radiance, which suggests that the tzohar is a stone that radiates its own light.
Hashem promised to never again destroy humanity (Bereshit 8:21), so humanity should never have to build this type of ark again. So, Rabbi Sacks asks, why did Rashi and the Rabbis of the midrash spend so much time debating the meaning of tzohar? Rabbi Sacks shares that the focus on the meaning of this word is because the Rabbis were arguing about the nature of Torah itself. Does Torah get its holiness from external forces – from humanity and nature and mankind – or does it have its own intrinsic light that illuminates all who encounter it?
Rabbi Sacks cites the Chizkuni who said that Noah had a radiant stone during the dark times, and a window during the light times. Right now, we are in a very dark time. I don’t yet know how to be optimistic. I am relying on that radiant stone of Torah and that video of the smiley singing soldier telling me to not be afraid. I draw light from the unprecedented acts of chesed and tzedakah: yeshiva and seminary students in Jerusalem running camps for orphaned children from Be’eri and Nahal Oz, my friends in Tel Aviv digging graves last Friday morning in order to bury our dead before Shabbat , and diasporic communities around the world sending more supplies to Israel than can even be processed through customs. I draw strength from the beautiful acts and words from our Leffell kehilah. But just like for Noah, the world will one day be bright again, and I hope we can open up our windows to be inspired by the outside world once more.
וַתִּשָּׁחֵ֥ת הָאָ֖רֶץ לִפְנֵ֣י הָֽאֱלֹהִ֑ים וַתִּמָּלֵ֥א הָאָ֖רֶץ חָמָֽס
The earth became corrupt before God; the earth was filled with violent lawlessness
The earth became corrupt before God; the earth was filled with violent lawlessness
I’m scared of so many things right now. I’m scared for my friends in the IDF. I’m scared for the over 200 Israelis held in captivity in Gaza. For the young orphans growing up without their parents and for the young parents growing up without their children. I’m scared for the thousands of Palestinian civilians who will die in this tragic war. I’m scared for the safety of my communities in New York and Connecticut. But what I’m truly petrified of is that this horrific war will expand and extend beyond Israel’s narrow borders — that it will fill the whole earth with corrupt lawlessness, just as it did in the days of Noah. The pasuk that follows doesn’t quell my fears: Hashem proceeds to tell Noah that the entire world will be destroyed because of this hamas – this violent lawlessness.
Hashem instructs Noah to build a teva, the ark through which Noah’s family will survive this destructive flood. Among many other instructions, Noah is commanded to make a tzohar for the ark – צֹ֣הַר תַּעֲשֶׂ֣ה לַתֵּבָ֗ה
Because the word tzohar is not used anywhere else in Tanakh, there is uncertainty about its meaning. Rashi quotes a midrash where two rabbis are arguing about the definition of this word. One thinks a tzohar is a window, while the other insists that it’s a precious stone that miraculously emanates light from within itself. Lord Rabbi Jonathan Sacks z”l explains that the difference in interpretation can be traced to the etymological understanding of the word. Assuming the source of the word refers to tzahorayim, or afternoon, it follows that a tzohar would be a window which allows in the midday sun. Alternatively, tzohar could be related to zohar, the Hebrew word for radiance, which suggests that the tzohar is a stone that radiates its own light.
Hashem promised to never again destroy humanity (Bereshit 8:21), so humanity should never have to build this type of ark again. So, Rabbi Sacks asks, why did Rashi and the Rabbis of the midrash spend so much time debating the meaning of tzohar? Rabbi Sacks shares that the focus on the meaning of this word is because the Rabbis were arguing about the nature of Torah itself. Does Torah get its holiness from external forces – from humanity and nature and mankind – or does it have its own intrinsic light that illuminates all who encounter it?
Living through the past two weeks leads me to take that conversation one step further. As I witness the care radiating from Jewish communities as they extend a hand to Israelis during these dark days, I wonder: are we a people with an inherent radiance imbued with a mission to brighten the world? Or are we motivated by external forces: because of thousands of years of persecution, and because we know all too well that in each generation they’ve arisen against us, and but for the grace of God, we are a people that dwells alone?
Rabbi Sacks cites the Chizkuni who said that Noah had a radiant stone during the dark times, and a window during the light times. Right now, we are in a very dark time. I don’t yet know how to be optimistic. I am relying on that radiant stone of Torah and that video of the smiley singing soldier telling me to not be afraid. I draw light from the unprecedented acts of chesed and tzedakah: yeshiva and seminary students in Jerusalem running camps for orphaned children from Be’eri and Nahal Oz, my friends in Tel Aviv digging graves last Friday morning in order to bury our dead before Shabbat , and diasporic communities around the world sending more supplies to Israel than can even be processed through customs. I draw strength from the beautiful acts and words from our Leffell kehilah. But just like for Noah, the world will one day be bright again, and I hope we can open up our windows to be inspired by the outside world once more.
At this moment, each of us is drawing inspiration and light from the collective good deeds of our people. It’s clear that Am Yisrael is the radiant tzohar, emanating its own miraculous light. Now, we look to God to do his part: Hashem oz l’amo yitein, Hashem yevarech et amo ba’shalom. God, give your nation strength, and bless us with peace.