Larry Levin, Publisher/CEO 
St. Louis Jewish Light

Parashat Noah
Presentation at BSKI
Oct 24, 2009

There are several inherent stress points within Parshah Noach.  One of them that I would like to address today is about what it means to be a Jewish environmentalist.

For ages, the rabbis have differed on what is meant in the parshah about Noah being a righteous man who walked with God and was perfect in his generations. Some have perceived this as an absolute statement, in other words, that in any generation, at any time in history, Noah would have been deemed at the top of the moral and ethical heap. Others have taken the phrase “perfect in his generations” as a qualifier, that he was only considered a beacon of moral hope because the rest of the world was so overtaken with robbery and vice.

Whatever your interpretation, there’s no question that Noah follows God’s orders to construct an ark, and to prepare for the ensuing flood by bringing animals that can mate and repopulate the Earth after the recession of the waters.  But there is something missing here, that has stymied some who wonder what righteousness truly means. At no point during his preparations does Noah speak up and question God about the pending destruction of virtually all human and animal life.

We know why God is acting, because of the amount of vice that has occurred in the world.  But why is Noah failing to assert himself?

We can derive from Noah’s quietude before God that he is righteous in a restrictive sense...in other words, he is guiltless, has done no one thing to allow himself to be punished or to be considered immoral or unethical.  But is this what we consider righteousness today?

Imagine if you went through your entire life doing nothing wrong. You never broke rules, you always attended shul, you held a decent job, let’s say you even gave money to charitable causes because that’s what you were told you were supposed to do. So you basically colored inside the lines your whole life.  Is this a form of righteousness? Well, from a legalistic and limited perspective, it could be...you have done nothing to offend, disobeyed no laws, shed no embarrassment on your household and complied with the commands of God and the law.

But there’s another notion of righteousness, isn’t there, a much broader one, The notion that if you see injustice you should speak up; that if you believe that others are being wronged, you should support them. If you can provide a voice for those that have none, you should do it. And if you believe the world is being harmed, you should work to prevent or undo the damage.

This view of righteousness of course requires us to utilize the blessing of free will that was afforded us by God.  But put yourself in Noah’s shoes for a moment—free will had gotten people into a whole lot of trouble, hadn’t it? The reason that God cites for turning on the spigot and starting over is because humankind used its free will to act badly and inflict pain and suffering on the world.

So now you’re Noah and God says, build this ark and go gather species. In the context of what’s been going on, maybe you’re not feeling so eager to raise your hand and say, “Uh, excuse me God, but there’s a little problem with destroying everyone and everything..  could we maybe take this to the peace table and have a little mediation exercise?”

Let’s give Noah credit where credit is due. He certainly doesn’t run away, like Jonah.

He doesn’t complain, like Job.  He isn’t asked to affirmatively destroy the world as Abraham is told to sacrifice his own son.
He’s simply allowing God to move forward with his own plan and does not question it. And God does indeed provide a new world lush with vegetation and repopulation, and provides the covenant, and speaks of the proliferation of Noah’s descendants. How bad can that be?

Well, that depends on your life outlook and why you think we have free will.
This to me is one of the essential issues raised in this parshah, and it also makes me somewhat skeptical of the use of Noah as the underpinning of modern environmentalism.
I believe that our obligation is not simply to comply with God’s specific words, but to act expansively and carry out the intent of tikkun olam in a broad, self-enabled manner.

Here’s why this is important.  Today we know that there are many evil people, who commit millions of transgressions against each other and against our Earth. We’ve heard some voices from several religions suggesting that if our planet and our population is headed for disaster or extinction, then this is simply God’s way of punishing us for our transgressions. In other words, a prolonged version of the Noah story—perhaps God intends to wipe the slate clean once again and start over.

So what are we to do? If you believe that a downward spiral represents God’s vision, if you see yourself sitting in Noah’s shoes, perhaps the response is to do nothing---after all, you haven’t been given an express order by God to be personally responsible to save mankind. If things go badly, it wasn’t your fault. Shoot, in Noah’s case, maybe he was thinking, “Gee, that’s too bad about the world, but my family’s taken care of, so what, me worry?” We just don’t know if there was at least partially a selfish component to Noah’s compliance.

Fortunately, most in Judaism do not share this passive, fatalistic or selfish view of humanity. Or even if we do, we hold out hope that we can improve the human condition and restore the world. In the case of the environment, if you  see your personal obligation as being proactive to prevent disaster, to present extinction, then you will do your share to help whether you believe you’ve been personally requested by God or not. You’ll use the beauty of the will God has given you to say, this world, this creation is beautiful and a gift and precious and must not be wasted. And you will assert yourself in favor of this protective cause.

 Of course, we don’t have to rely solely on the story of Noah. We know there’s plenty of direction in the Tanach about the environment.  About avoiding tachlisch, or waste.  Admonitions to not cutting down fruiting trees, even in wartime. The Psalms referring to mountains singing and rivers clapping. Nature has supported and sustained us and we’ve thanked God for it through our festivals. Tu b’Shevat, Sukkot, Lag b’Omer.

Environmentalism lies at the heart of righteousness with a capital R. Or Tzedek, with a capital T, take your choice. This is the kind of righteousness that lights a fire in our belly when we see the need to help, to heal, to restore, to cherish. An appreciation of all things good and beautiful.

Noah may or may not have been expansive of heart. That we will never know. But the story is an excellent shoving off point for searching our own hearts and asking ourselves the questions: Will we speak up before the world is destroyed? Will we take action on our own? Is this an essential part of our Jewishness? If you answer those three questions in the affirmative, then you know that you are a righteous person no matter what the definition. And you know that you are an environmentalist as well.