The Simchat Torah Pogrom and The Floodwaters of Noach

When the floodwaters subside, Noach is alone. Just mere weeks before, human civilization was robust and populous, though it had fallen prey to greed, lust and thievery. As the world flooded with crime and injustice, Noach received the order to build an ark with room for no more than eight human passengers, and now they remained the last remnant of the humanity that was, and the forebears of the society yet to come.

Yet Noach, in his careful observance of the instruction he had received, never once considered building another cabin onboard, or handing out life jackets in the town square, and he certainly did nothing to combat the crime wave and moral turpitude that had overtaken the society in which he lived. He followed the rules, kept his head down, and waited it out.

In this week’s Haftara, Yeshayahu seems to point a finger at Noach for his actions. He calls the flood mei Noach, the floodwaters of Noach. It is as though Noach bears a degree of responsibility for the obliteration of society, as the tzadik biSdom, the righteous individual in a morally bankrupt society, who maintains personal integrity but fails to have any impact on the surrounding community.

What happened on Shabbat Simchat Torah was nothing less than a pogrom, the largest massacre of Jews in Israel since the Second Temple period and larger than the pogroms of Ukraine (1919) or of Kishinev (1903) – among the largest single events of massacre in all of Jewish history.

In the face of such evil, we will not bear the sin of Noach. We are not staying in our safe rooms, we are not running away from Israel to wait out the storm. Just the opposite – thousands have spared no expense to return home to fight! Elchanan Kalmanson z”l, an OTS alumnus, his brother and brother-in-law didn’t wait for a conscription call; as soon as the news broke of the massacre on Kibbutz Beeri they ran down south, saving dozens of people.

Our students, spouses, children, and grandchildren are not Noach. We are the children of Avraham, who fought a war in order to free hostages, protect what is good in the world, and eradicate evil. This war is a continuation of the way of Avraham. We are certainly not paralyzed, but mobilized and emboldened to protect ourselves and restore the balance of justice. We are the children of Avraham!

Avraham’s war to rescue Lot was not a geopolitical opportunity nor was it an expression of hatred of others. Avraham, throughout his lifetime, extends his hands in peace and cooperation to those around him. He cared deeply for the people of Sodom and developed relationships and partnerships with Ephron and Elimelech. Similarly, as the students of Avraham, we wish to believe in the good of the other. But there is a time for peace, and a time for war, and we insist on ensuring our security, ridding society of a modern Amalek, and defending our people and our homeland.

At the funeral of his son, Roey – another alumnus of ours who was killed after saving many of his comrades in a battle against Hamas terrorists – Yami Weiser noted that his son did not fall in battle, but rather was elevated in battle. His heroic acts and those of all of our soldiers are expressions of valor and commitment to our highest moral ideals.

The floodwaters of Noach are upon us when we allow ourselves to be witness to evil, without doing our part to bring about a change. As Elie Wiesel once stated: “Indifference is the epitome of evil. We must take sides. Neutrality helps the oppressor, never the victim. Silence encourages the tormentor, never the tormented.”  It is our obligation to not build arks, but rather, in the spirit of Avraham, to fight evil and to be lighthouses that will guide our world towards a better tomorrow.