Looking Up- Noah 5785

There are few parshayot like parshat Noah, whose events are so well-known throughout the whole of the Jewish community. It’s the opposite, in some ways, of parshat Bereishit which we read last week. That parsha began with so much hope and potential, with existence moving quickly from tohu va’vohu– unformed emptiness- into a place where vegetation, animals, and humans all coexisted in a divine hierarchy. Now, we read of the destruction of that first iteration of the world, a process which G-d undertakes out of sorrow due to the ever-present human inclination to evil. 

When I was reviewing the parsha this past week, I noticed a curiosity about the architecture of the ark itself. The blueprints are right there in the text: the ark is made of gopher wood, and measures 300 cubits in length by 50 cubits in width, with a height of 30 cubits. But apart from its physical dimensions, we learn about the architecture of the inside of the ark as well. The Torah teaches in chapter 6 verse 16:

צֹ֣הַר ׀ תַּעֲשֶׂ֣ה לַתֵּבָ֗ה וְאֶל־אַמָּה֙ תְּכַלֶּ֣נָּה מִלְמַ֔עְלָה וּפֶ֥תַח הַתֵּבָ֖ה בְּצִדָּ֣הּ תָּשִׂ֑ים תַּחְתִּיִּ֛ם שְׁנִיִּ֥ם וּשְׁלִשִׁ֖ים תַּֽעֲשֶֽׂהָ׃

“Make an opening for daylight in the ark, and terminate it within a cubit of the top. Put the entrance to the ark on its side; make it with bottom, second, and third decks.”

It’s curious to consider that the ark, which will be used as shelter from the most destructive storm in history, has a skylight. We read last week in parshat Bereishit, in the third verse of the Torah: Vayomer Elokim yehi or, va’yehi or. “And G-d said ‘Let there be light’, and there was light.” Light, being the very first thing created in the world, is to be an ever-present sign of divinity despite the destruction of all the other signs of life on earth. 

What exactly is this tzohar, this thing that allows light into the ark? Rashi, the great biblical commentator, posits two possibilities. According to him, this is either a true skylight, like a window to peer out from, or- another interesting possibility- it was actually a precious stone that gave light to everybody inside the ark. 

The Midrash, in Bereishit Rabbah, takes this explanation a step further. The Midrash teaches:

“Rabbi Pinḥas said in the name of Rabbi Levi: All twelve months that Noah was in the ark, he needed neither the light of the sun during the day nor the light of the moon at night; rather, he had a precious stone that he had suspended. When it was dim he knew that it was day, and when it shined brightly he knew that it was night.”

Whether it was specifically a window to see outside, or a precious stone, it’s clear that the orientation of the ark is facing “up”. The tzohar, then, acts like a gyroscope, letting Noah and his family know- literally- which way is up, so that they retain some degree of orientation in the midst of the ark rolling along on the water.

This isn’t the only instance in our parsha where the human gaze is directed upwards. After the ark comes to rest on Mount Ararat, Noah sends out the raven and the dove to see if the floodwaters have subsided. The raven goes “to and fro” until the waters dry, and the dove, seeing that it can’t land anywhere, returns to Noah in the ark when he puts out his hand. You can picture Noah peeking out of that skylight, gazing upward to see what the birds are doing. Finally, when the dove brings back an olive leaf, Noah knows the land is dry. He waits another seven days then sends the dove out one final time, never to return.

In one of my favorite passages of the Torah, G-d shows Noah a sign above that the world will never again be destroyed. The rainbow, a beautiful manifestation of that divine light created in the Torah’s first chapter, serves as a sign of the covenant between G-d and Noah which one must look “up” in order to see and fully appreciate. 

As an aside, the blessing upon seeing a rainbow is one of my favorite brachot and directly harkens back to our parsha. It reads in English: “Blessed are You, Lord our G‑d, sovereign of the universe, who remembers the covenant, and is faithful to their covenant, and keeps their promise.”

There is an understanding conveyed in the text that G-d’s abode is truly “above”, made ever clearer towards the end of our parsha with the story of the Tower of Babel. The people, situated in a valley in Shinar, decide to build a tower with its top in the sky “to make a name for ourselves” (Gen. 11:4). In the very next verse we read:

וַיֵּ֣רֶד יְהֹוָ֔ה לִרְאֹ֥ת אֶת־הָעִ֖יר וְאֶת־הַמִּגְדָּ֑ל אֲשֶׁ֥ר בָּנ֖וּ בְּנֵ֥י הָאָדָֽם׃

“G-d came down to look at the city and tower that humanity had built-”

The people, by their pursuit of fame (or infamy), have seemingly encroached upon G-d’s abode by building their mighty tower. As a result, G-d confounds their speech so that they’re unable to understand each other and complete their task. 

Returning to the tzohar, the skylight in the ark, one could ask the question what exact purpose it was to serve during the flood itself. For forty days and forty nights, there was rain as there never was before or since. One can ask the question: Nu, what was there to see? To me, the tzohar represents comfort, the idea that despite the terrible confusion and calamity of the moment, we should always be looking “up” for a sign of consolation.

As I’ve said previously in other remarks, there is a lot of uncertainty in our world right now. There is an ongoing war in Israel, where innocent lives are being cut far too short. This Tuesday is Election Day in our communities across the country, and the outcome is anything but certain. Connected to our parsha, there is uncertainty and foreboding with regards to climate change and the way humans treat one another. It’s unknown if humans can meet this moment with the knowledge and collaboration that this challenge demands of us. But, we can keep looking up. If both our physical and moral compasses are properly attuned and calibrated, then we can at least map a way forward.

In commanding that the ark itself contain an opening through which daylight may appear, G-d perhaps assures Noah even before the flood that the devastating rains will eventually conclude and that he, his family, and the wonderful menagerie of creatures in the ark will indeed have a happy end. 

The ending for Noah, sadly, is rather unbecoming. The Torah teaches that after the episode of the flood, Noah became the first person to plant a vineyard, which subsequently leads to his unveiling his nakedness in his tent and having to be covered up by his sons. He lived another 350 years after the flood, and then died at age 950 (Gen. 28-29). 

In contrast, Noah’s sons mark the start of another ten generations which culminate in the birth of Abraham, who G-d commands at one point to LOOK UP at the stars and try to count them, for that will be the number of his descendants. In looking up, Noah and his descendants search for a sign of hope and the divine presence, which does indeed reside not solely above but all around.

On this Shabbat, I pray that we all keep looking up, knowing that despite any uncertainty or unease we may be feeling, our current mental state is not the “end all, be all”. By encouraging each other to look up, and looking up ourselves to regain our bearings and hope, we in turn lift each other up and lift up our communities. Let’s engage in the practice of looking up and lifting up ourselves, our communities, and all those who are downtrodden. By doing that, we stand in stark contrast to the generation of the flood, honor our yetzer hatov– the inclination towards good- and help to bring out the best in ourselves and each other.