Noach
Can our practice be an ark amidst this storm?
Reflection by Rabbi Dr. James Jacobson-Maisels, Founder of Or HaLev
"This last Shabbat we read parshat Bereshit, the story of creation. The Torah tells us that creation begins with chaos. With darkness covering the abyss (Gen 1:2). Nowhere to turn to. No ground on which to stand. Nothing can be made sense of. So too it can feel for us today. That we are adrift in chaos and darkness, hovering over an abyss of violence and destruction.
The work of creation is creating light, stability (dry land), sustenance (plants), support (all the conditions to support life), and life, and culminates in the creation of human beings who are created in the image of God. The peak of creation is recognizing that we are all made in God’s image. The deep nature of destruction, of undoing the work of creation, is to deny this truth.
Despite the beauty of creation, and God’s continued affirmation that it is good, by the end of the parsha, God declares that humans do nothing but evil, regrets creating humanity, and resolves to destroy them (Gen 6:5-6). This week’s parsha, Noah, begins with this resolve to destroy the earth (not just humanity), for the world is corrupt and filled with lawlessness (Gen 6:11-12).
Yet the righteousness of one individual, Noah, touches God, and God resolves to allow humanity to endure. After the flood, in explaining to Noah how to rebuild a more just world, God tells Noah something essential that, until this point, God had not communicated to any person: that we are made in God’s image (9:6). We might not know this if God hadn’t told us. Much like the eternal covenant of the rainbow, we are asked to never forget that this is our essential nature. Only thus can humanity endure.
We are in a terrible time of violence and cruelty, where there is little recognition that we are all made in the image of God. It can feel like we are falling back into chaos, that it would have been better had the world not been created. We respond out of trauma with anger and hate. At the same time, every time we recognize the divine image in another, we participate in creation. We create the conditions for life to flourish; we make the world possible.
This week, we had a problem with the door to our bomb shelter. We called up Fadi, a repairman for such doors, who lives in the neighboring town of Kefar Manda, an Arab village. He came and quickly fixed the door so that we could all be safe in the midst of the missile attacks from the Gaza strip. He refused to accept payment, saying that in a time like this he did this work for free, and we could tell any of our friends who had any problem with their bomb shelter doors, and he would come and fix them for free. Across Israel, there has been an extraordinary outpouring of support and care, countless volunteers offering myriad forms of support. Seeing the generosity and care reminds me that there is still a deep commitment to see each other as in the divine image. Receiving the care and love of so many people from outside of Israel lets me know that people are seeing our humanity and divinity.
Our practice is to see the divine image in everyone. To create a world where the horrors we have witnessed are not possible. Our practice can be an ark amidst this storm. It can help us stay afloat and come to dry land, ready to build anew, rooted in the conviction of the divinity of all life. May we practice for the divinity of life.
May we all be safe."