Weekly D'var

PARASHAT NOACH
Izzy Gutstein

LOOKING CLOSELY AT THE FIRST COVENANT

In fourth grade, I chose Noach for my Bar Mitzvah because of the animals, and the dove, and the rainbow and the happy story that you learn when you’re little. 

When I really started preparing, what caught my attention was different: drunkenness, curses, favoritism and a lack of humility that ends up with humanity being dispersed to the corners of the earth. This parsha reads like a series of unfortunate events. 

As I delved into the text and commentary about this dark side of Noach, I kept coming back to the fact that this all happens AFTER God makes a covenant with the people. So under this same covenant, along with the good parts of Noach the dark side exists. This I found curious, and digging into it led me to wonder about the meaning of this covenant. 

This parsha is where we get the first mention of covenant, or BRIT, a word we use regularly in Jewish life, Brit Milah, Luchot Habrit. We even call our group agreements at camp a brit. 

So brit means some kind of contract, some sacred promise that God made to us. But what does that word really mean here, in its first iteration? How can we go from rainbows and the dove to drunkenness and eternal curses all under this Brit?

Looking closely at the details of the language of this first mention of brit can help us understand what it means and how both the rainbows and the curses are all part of God’s covenant. 

First, let's take a look at the grammar of the first mention of the word brit, because it’s weirdly phrased and it changes in the parsha. 

In the first aliyah - Chapter 6, verse 18 - we get the first “brit” 
18. But I will establish My covenant with you. You and your family must enter the ark, you together with your sons, and your wife with your sons’ wives.
:יח וַֽהֲקִֽמֹתִ֥י אֶת־בְּרִיתִ֖י אִתָּ֑ךְ וּבָאתָ֙ אֶל־הַתֵּ֔בָה אַתָּ֕ה וּבָנֶי֛ךָ וְאִשְׁתְּךָ֥ וּנְשֵֽׁי־בָנֶי֖ךָ אִתָּֽךְ

The Hebrew phrasing is strange. You might have missed it. My mom missed it. Even when I asked Gilad, our resident native Hebrew speaker to read this pasuk, even he read that God was making the covenant with Noach as eetcha - you, masculine singular. But in the text, God makes the covenant with Noach as you-singular feminine, etach- and then atah - singular masculine, and then again as etach at the end. What’s going on here?

The Rabbis basically ignored this, Rashi doesn’t even mention it, Ibn Ezra notes Hebrew sometimes interchanges masculine and feminine. But I really noticed this. After all, every word in the Torah has a purpose. The Zohar, a book of medieval, mystical teachings, offers an interesting explanation. 

The Zohar highlights the use of both the masculine and the feminine in the same pasuk to show that God’s new covenant with Noach is about connection and unity with all aspects of humanity. Noach is a man, but when God addresses him in the feminine, this points to his connection with the Shechinah, the presence of God that is grammatically feminine. 

If all humanity is going to be renewed through Noach, then the covenant must be inclusive of all aspects of humanity, both masculine and feminine. 

God also emphasizes the inclusive nature of this brit by changing who he makes it with, or with whom, as my grandfather would like me to say. Before the flood comes, the covenant is to be made eetach and atah female and male in the singular, just referring to Noach. But after the flood, in the fifth aliyah, the grammar changes to the plural. The word brit occurs 7 times in this aliyah, and it is always made eetchem - with you plural. Nothing repeats seven times in one parsha that’s not important. Previously, the wicked people who walked the earth in Noach’s generation were not included in God’s covenant, only Noach was.

This time God makes a covenant “with you and your offspring to come and with every living thing that is with you—birds, cattle, and every wild beast as well—all that have come out of the ark, every living thing on earth.” 
וְאֵ֨ת כָּל־נֶ֤פֶשׁ הַֽחַיָּה֙ אֲשֶׁ֣ר אִתְּכֶ֔ם בָּע֧וֹף בַּבְּהֵמָ֛ה וּבְכָל־חַיַּ֥ת הָאָ֖רֶץ אִתְּכֶ֑ם מִכֹּל֙ יֹֽצְאֵ֣י הַתֵּבָ֔ה לְכֹ֖ל חַיַּ֥ת הָאָֽרֶץ:

Rashi notes that by mentioning all of beasts, those that walk with you, chayat ha aretz eetchem, and those that do not, just Chayat ha aretz, God meant for the covenant to be radically inclusive, with the harmless and harmful animals, unlike before, when the wicked people were not included in the covenant.

With these words, even though they’re about animals, we’re getting an important preview of who is part of the covenant: Everyone.

So, the change of who the covenant is with, from Noach to everyone shows the radically inclusive nature of the covenant, and the fact that it changes shows how flexible it is.

But why? And again, why can the covenant go from rainbows and doves to curses and dispersing all the people of the earth?

Let's consider the language God uses to say WHY he’s making this covenant, because it’s also a little strange.

In Chapter 8, verse 21, after the flood, God says, 
“Never again will I doom the earth because of humankind, since the devisings of the human mind are evil from youth; nor will I ever again destroy every living being, as I have done.” 

Rabbi Shai Held (father of the one and only Lev Held) points out that this is the same language God used to justify ending the world in last week’s parsha, 
וַיַּ֣רְא יְהֹוָ֔ה כִּ֥י רַבָּ֛ה רָעַ֥ת הָאָדָ֖ם בָּאָ֑רֶץ וְכׇל־יֵ֙צֶר֙ מַחְשְׁבֹ֣ת לִבּ֔וֹ רַ֥ק רַ֖ע כׇּל־הַיּֽוֹם׃
יהוה saw how great was human wickedness on earth—how every plan devised by the human mind was nothing but evil all the time.

It’s odd right, that the language is similar. God ended the world because of human evil. And then, God resolved never to end the world again and establish an everlasting covenant because humans are naturally evil. 

Sforno, an Italian commentator of the 16th century, saw this repetition to mean that God chose mercy as the basis of his covenant. 

Rabbi Yitz Greenberg writes (Covenant): 
“In the covenant, there is full allowance for human weakness.”

So the language of the covenant, both masculine and feminine, singular and plural, with an understanding of human evil and based in mercy means God acknowledges that we’re going to mess up. 

Rabbi Held finds even more meaning in this repetition of the language. He writes, 
“The crucial lesson is that the same attribute that we see as cause for reproach can often serve as a basis for forgiveness as well; this seems to be what God learns after the flood, and, as we shall see, it is something we should learn as well.”

The first thing that happens after the covenant is made is Noach makes some questionable choices. He gets drunk, and curses the descendants of Canaan, his grandson. Then at the end of the parsha, the people build the Tower of Bavel to reach heaven, also not a good choice, and become dispersed throughout the Earth. People sin. God shows mercy while dealing out consequences. The covenant endures, the covenant protects.

But what does all this about the covenant teach us? What does it mean?

God’s covenant with the people still stands, God will not wipe out all of humanity again, even when we sin again, and again. As Rabbi Held notes, when we judge others or ourselves, we need to look at that judgment and find compassion. This means when we mess up, and judge ourselves, we also have to give ourselves some grace. Everyone makes mistakes, and we must acknowledge that we will keep on making mistakes. However, it doesn’t stop there. As I’ve learned through many mistakes, you have to learn from them. And there is always something to learn, whether that is how not to make the same mistake again, or learning what kind of person you want to be. I mess up a lot, especially when I get distracted, but I have to forgive myself. We have to fix our mistakes as best as we can, learn from them, and as my dad says, “keep it moving.”

Humanity makes mistakes, and we have to keep finding the energy and concern to work to make it better. Recently, I’ve gotten involved with the Forest Preserve of Cook County Volunteer team and spent time cutting back invasive Tall Goldenrod in a local forest. After several hours of hacking away with my scythe, and with the other volunteers cutting and pruning around me, we made a real difference. We could see the amazing variety of wild grasses and flowers that had been looking for light and had been crowded out by the Goldenrod. I felt accomplished, and it made me want to come again, to work again and clear a little more space. 

And that brings me back to the rainbow and the dove. Parshat Noach is about mistakes, and compassion. We’re all going to keep making mistakes, but we have a covenant, and it was sealed with a special refraction of light, and that’s where we can stay focused. What we have to do is be compassionate and merciful, fix the mistakes, move on, and focus on the light, our light.

Thank you to everyone who has helped me find the light and get to this milestone. 

To my teachers at CJDS: Thank you for seeing me and knowing there was a lot of good in me. Thank you for instilling in me skills that I will continue to use throughout my adult life.

To my friends: Thank you for always being there for me and just making life more exciting. Whether it's joking during passing periods or outside of school, we can always have fun.

To my friends from Ramah Rockies: You are always the people I can rely on to be back every summer and be the highlight of camp every time. I look forward to seeing you all year and whether it’s on a raft, in a tent or a trail, you guys do not disappoint.

To my friends and family that came from everywhere, from California to Cleveland to Boston to DC, Portland, Philadelphia, New York, New Jersey, and Connecticut: Thank you for staying awake during this long speech, and it means a lot to me that you came to support me today.

To my Elm Street shul family: You have made this incredible place something I continue to look forward to every week. I love that you want to teach me new melodies, hug me like I’m part of your family, and that you notice every week that I somehow must have grown another 2 inches!

To Gilad: Who is always there to play frisbee, or teach me one of the many things he is a master of, and for helping me if I ever do have Hebrew homework.

To my brother Teddy: For finding the old recordings of Kenny Barrish’s Musaf to help me over the hard parts and for always being my best friend, especially one that I can let beat me in everything. And by the way, I think your phone is under the third couch cushion on the left, you’re welcome.

To my dad: For teaching me my Torah Reading and being my role model throughout life. You are always there to go on a new adventure with me, whether that be a long bike ride, building an art installation, or going on frequent trips to Ace to fix things.

To my mom: For helping me with this speech and teaching me my Haftarah, you are my ultimate teacher. You are the reason this entire event can happen at all, and you brought me into this world, so thanks!

Shabbat Shalom.