One might expect, right after the dramatic opening of “In the Beginning,” to encounter somewhat of a lighter material this week. Indeed, what could stand on the heels of creating of the entire known universe, all of nature, mankind, and the Garden of Eden – to name just a few of last week’s highlights? Well, to the extent you were waiting for a “light” portion – no such luck. The second portion is a “universe” all unto itself: The first righteous person, architecture and water-proofing, global warming, biology and evolution, urban planning, eternal covenant between God and all people – are just some of the many issues explored in this week’s portion. And yes, lest we forget – the second indecent exposure. [You may recall that last week’s portion dedicated a large segment to Adam and Eve’s realization that they were naked. This time, we have a father – righteous, but drunk (which goes to show that the two are not necessarily mutually exclusive) – who is lying naked in a tent. What’s a son to do in that situation? (Hint: try Gen. 9:23 for an answer)].
Indeed, the second portion more than earns its esteemed “real-estate location”—right after Genesis. Today I’d like to dedicate a few words to each of the great two stories that, not unrelated, consist of today’s potion: The Flood, and the Tower of Babylon. But more than that, I would like to examine just how “human” God's image is – or how humanly it is being depicted – in this week’s portion.
I. The Flood and God’s Heart
Whenever I think about the flood, I can’t escape thinking of the miraculous survival story of the first mariner, the first biologist, the first weatherman – a man truly above and beyond not only his generation, but all generations of his time (as the text clearly informs us in the opening verse of our portion, Gen. 6:9; but see Gen. 7:1, where God tells No’ach that he is only righteous in his generation). Indeed, Noa’ch (not “Noa”) has well earned the title of being the first person to ever “walk with God.” (Id.) But is the flood story really about No’ach?
Let us turn for a moment to the few verses preceding this week’s portion, where the story actually begins. There, God is said to realize – somewhat to His surprise – “that the man’s evil is aplenty, and that all man’s desires and thoughts of his heart are evil all day long.” (Gen. 6:5). Then the text goes on to describe – not for the first time – God’s internal thought-process while He ponders His next steps:
Gen. 6:6-8: And the Lord regretted that He had made man on earth, and His heart was saddened. The Lord said, “I will eliminate from the earth the man whom I created – from man to beasts to creeping things, and birds of the sky; for I regret I made them. And the Lord was pleased with No’ach.”(Note: the GWT translation receives a brownie point here for daring to reverse the linguistic order of the last verse, which begins in Hebrew with the words “And No’ach …”; that opening seems to skew all other nine translations I reviewed; see http://bible.cc/genesis/6-8.htm.)
Before I get to God’s “heart,” I want to present a few questions about this very interesting – but often neglected – passage, which comes at the tail-end the greatest portion of all. First, when the text reports on the Lord’s regret of mankind, it uses the lesser form of “made” to describe man’s first appearance on earth (“the Lord regretted that He made man”). In contrast, when God actually “speaks” of the punishment, he uses the higher descriptive verb, “created” (which in Hebrew, as I explained last week, has even a higher connotation, suggesting creation ex-nihilo, out of nothing) – “I will eliminate … the man whom I created.” What could be the reason for such distinction? Second, while God only regrets the creation of mankind, He decides to eliminate all living things, not only humans. What is the reason for that? Were the animals, too, devising “bad” all day long? Third, what does No’ach have to do with all that? Recall that God just decided, without too much (reported) hesitation, to wipe out the better part of His entire creation in six days, including the “crest of the creation,” mankind itself. Why is it important, then, to mention that God was really “pleased” with one person, of which we know nothing at this point?
Let us turn back now to God’s “heart,” which is mentioned here for the first time. Once His “heart” is saddened, God decides to bring an end to mankind, a plan he executes with meticulous detail in next chapter – the story of the Flood. (Recall, however, that the story does have a relatively happy ending: No’ach and his family are saved, and thus become the sole representatives of all the animals.)
So does God really have a “heart”? Can He (or His heart) really be saddened? We’ll come back to that in a minute.
II. The Tower of Babel and God’s "Eyesight"
The second, but not less interesting, story of this week’s potion begins with the dramatic statement that “And the whole earth was of one language, and of one speech.” (Gen. 11:1 KJV trns.) Yeshayahu Leibowitz, for one, fiercely argues that this original state, far from being ideal, actually depicts tyranny and unity of thought. Accordingly, he is of the opinion that the so-called “punishment” of creating many languages and dispersing mankind to all four corners of the earth was not a punishment at all; rather, it was a blessing that has brought us the plurality of languages, opinions (including dissenting opinions), and viewpoints – in short, it brought us the famous “different views of the cathedral.” (Y. Leibowitz, Notes on the Weekly Torah Reading, 14-15 (1988) (Hebrew)).
What is worth noting, again, is the “humanization” of God in the story.
Gen. 11:5: And the Lord has descended to see the city and the tower which the sons of man have built.
Why would God need to “descend” in order to “see” the city? Can’t He simply see it from the heavens (or, assuming He is everywhere, from any point He chooses)? Does the text suggest that God is near-sighted, and needs to come closer to actually see? More broadly, how does God’s “vision” work at all?
III. One Possible Answer: Maimonides’ “Negative Theology”
Throughout history, many a commentator tried to explain this “human” treatment of God by the biblical text. Does God really have eyes? Heart? Other organs? Does he “descend” in order to “see” things? Does he “feel sorry” for things?
The most comprehensive attempt to reason this attitude was made by the most important Jewish thinker of all times, the Rambam (acronym for Rabi Moshe Ben Mimon; also known here as Maimonides). The Rambam, who was an Aristotelian philosopher in addition to being an accomplished physician, begins his analysis from the premise that we can only express and comprehend content through the limited medium of language. Even God’s act of creation ex-nihilo, with all its heavenly glory, can only be related to us through words – and nothing more. Thus, while it is clear that we cannot really understand or comprehend everything God does, the text has to relay to us, in one way or another, that God in fact operated in some way. Accordingly, the text may only provide us with no more than a glimpse unto God’s glory and actions through the extremely limited medium of words. [The Rambam then went on to develop his theory Negative Theology, but I’ll stop here.]
In short, the Rambam explained that God doesn’t really have a “heart” that is “saddened,” nor was He required to “descend” in order to “see” what was happening in Babel. Rather, these are linguistic tools, used by the text to try and convey to us, in very human terms, what God was about to do.
Still, despite the Rambam’s very elaborate theory, many today see God – and not only in Judaism – as a good grandpa with a white bird, who has a heart (which is sadden sometimes by the deeds of men), and is required to “descend” in order to see things up close. Would you prefer such a God?
Shabat Shalom,
Doron
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