There is an
old argument over which verse of Torah provides the most profound lesson. One authority offers what might be called the
‘obvious’ answer: Leviticus 19:18. This pasuk contains the dictum that
everyone should recognise: ve’ahavta
lereyeicha kamocha; Love thy neighbour as thyself. It is difficult to argue that this verse
contains a most profound lesson.
But the argument has nonetheless been offered that it isn’t the most
profound lesson. One dissenting opinion
is that Genesis 6:9, which opens this week’s Torah portion, has an even more
profound lesson. The verse in question
proclaims: eyleh toldot Noach; these
are the generations of Noah.
What’s so profound about this statement? It precedes the naming of Noah’s three
sons. And it sets the scene for the
account of the flood, in which all humanity was destroyed except for Noah, his
wife, their three sons, and their wives.
The point being that, in the aftermath of the flood, the world would be
re-peopled by the offspring of one man.
Which means that all humanity – even today, with seven-point-two billion
people in the world – is blood-related.
Without this understanding, love your neighbour – the Hebrew
actually means more precisely ‘love your kinsman’ – doesn’t seem quite
as profound.
In reality, the two verses don’t ‘compete’ with one another but rather
compliment one another to create the most profound principle: all humanity are one kin, and one should love
one’s kinsman as oneself.
Despite this, we Jews are as likely as others to divide the world into ‘us’
and ‘them.’ We do it with regards to the
Jewish and non-Jewish world. But we also
do it within the Jewish world, creating categories of innies and outies. That we do this is the ‘dirty secret’ of
Jewish communal life. Because we are
Israel, the people called by G-d’s very Name, the fact that we do it is
a chillul Hashem – a desecration G-d’s Name. We sometimes argue that our history of
persecution and exclusion makes this tendency understandable. But to say it is understandable that those
who have experienced exclusion would exclude, makes no sense. If anything, we should be sensitive and work
to overcome it in ourselves because of our history. And in truth, Jews generally try very hard to
see the other’s viewpoint, honour his humanity, and treat him well because of
our history. But conspicuously, not all Jews. In particular, when Jews gather in a
religious congregation, it should be a given that they work to overcome the
tendency to exclude and separate. But
our record is less than stellar.
So the point of recognizing humanity’s common lineage through Noah, is
to recognise that we are all one kin.
But if so, why do we Jews not proselytise? If we believe that Torah is life-giving, then
why don’t we try harder to win over our neighbours to Torah and Judaism, just
as they sometimes try to win us over to their religious
viewpoint? If we truly do consider
all of humanity to be ‘family,’ why would we not want the rest of our family to
know the truth that we have recognised?
The logical answer would be that we want it absolutely.
But the answer is too complex to be entirely logical. It includes elements of sociology,
psychology, and historical fear. These
are beyond the scope of tonight’s presentation.
The one element I will focus on, is the theological.
Jewish luminaries since antiquity have recognised that one need not be a
Jew in order to serve G-d. The Jewish
religion, centred on the Written and Oral Torahs, is the unique calling of the
Jewish people. It is a part of our being
singled out as ‘a national of priests…a light unto the nations.’ But ‘the nations’ not only are not
required to adopt the Jewish religion, but according to some authorities they
are to be discouraged. Rather,
they should be encouraged to follow a code found in the Torah. Rabbinic wisdom holds that all humanity must
integrate it as a pathway to G-d. And
that code is called the ‘Noahide Code.’
A gentile who lives according to it, is often referred to as a ‘Noahide.’
It
is so called, because whilst six elements of the Code are presented in the
opening chapter of Genesis, the seventh is found in with the ninth chapter, in
this week’s reading. There, in the
aftermath of the flood, G-d instructs Noah:
Every moving thing that lives shall be to you as food. As with plant vegetation, I have given you
everything. But you may not eat flesh of
a creature that is still alive. Of the
blood of your own lives will I demand an account. I will demand such an account from the hand
of every wild beast. From the hand of
man – even from the hand of a man’s own brother – I will demand an account of
every human life. He who spills man’s
blood shall have his own blood spilled by man, for G-d made man with his own
image.’
The prohibition on murder is already stated in the fourth chapter of
Genesis when G-d reacts to Cain’s slaying his brother Abel. So the dictum you may not eat flesh of a
creature that is still alive is considered the seventh of the Noahide laws.
Actually, the Hebrew is unclear and has been translated in various ways. But its message is clear: do not cause undue suffering to animals,
even when you use them for food as I have given you licence to do.
So, from the first nine chapters of the Book of Genesis, one derives
Seven Laws, here presented in the simplest terms possible: (1) establish courts of justice; (2) no
idolatry; (3) no blasphemy; (4) no murder or injury; (5) no forbidden sexual
relationships; (6) no theft; (7) no meat from a live animal.
I like to refer to them as Seven Principles, as they are not quite so
simple as they seem on the surface and should engender extensive study
and discussion as to their deepest meanings.
But most importantly they are universal. They are incumbent upon all
humanity. This, according to the Rabbis.
I chose to speak of the Noahide Code at length this evening, because it
is clear that the phenomenon of gentiles embracing the code and calling
themselves ‘Noahides’ is becoming ever more noticeable. For example, a few weeks ago I dropped in on
Rabbi Serebryansky for the Shabbat morning service and lunch. After the service, I found a group of people
waiting in the lounge of the rabbi’s home who had not been present in the
worship service. They self-identified as
‘Noahides.’ They seek instruction from the
rabbi, and attend his table, but do not attend his services. This is one manifestation of Noahidism, but
not the only one. During the course of
my rabbinate, I have encountered a number of individuals, not Jewish, self-identified
as Noahides. I wouldn’t be surprised if
there were such an individual, or two, in the room tonight.
I have been studying Noahidism since my seminary days. Knowing then that I was called to the military
chaplaincy, I knew that I would wrestle more than some of my colleagues with
the notion of a universal code for humanity.
I knew that I could use it as a tool to deal with the fractiousness of
the world religions scene. When humanity
practices so many different religions, how does one arrive at a universal
ethic? The Noahide Code provides the
key.
Chabad-Lubavich has embraced Noahidism; just as I met a number of
self-proclaimed Noahides at the Serebryanskys’, one can often find them
gravitating to their local Chabad representative. Chabad encourages those who come to their
doors enquiring about conversion to Judaism, to become a Noahide and leave it
at that.
But to other Noahides, the status is a stepping-stone toward full
conversion to Judaism. The Seven Laws are
a starting point in adopting the Jewish tradition. Since the Noahide Code is articulated in a
source of Judaism – the Babylonian Talmud, Tractate Sanhedrin – accepting the
Noahide Code means de facto acceptance of the authority of the Jewish Tradition.
Finally, there are those who do not believe that the Noahide Code demands
that the Noahide abandon his existing religious loyalties. In other words, any religion is ‘good’ if it
teaches and inspires its adherents to live by the Noahide Code. If not all a religion’s adherents do
live by the Noahide Code, that does not constitute an indictment of that
religion. After all, do all Jews live
by these Seven Laws, not to mention Judism’s more extensive list of 613
commandments? No, of course not; there
are Jews – even Jews who are outwardly quite religious – who are quite
challenged to live by the Seven Laws. So
the point is not whether a particular religion’s members are Noahides. Rather, that the religion in question teaches
a spiritual ethic that embraces the Seven Laws.
We Jews
often get nervous when we see others adopt the rituals of our religion as
trappings of their own faith. For
example, when Christians perform and attend Passover Seders, because they
believe the Last Supper of Jesus was a Passover Seder. Some Jews find that off-putting. Probably because it blurs boundaries that we
find comforting. So, some of us may find
a non-Jew attending Jewish services and events and telling us that he is a
Noahide, vaguely discomforting. But we
need not feel that way. As novel as the
Noahide phenomenon may be to some of us, it is something that has been around
since antiquity. And it is a singularly
ethical expression of the individual’s desire to live a life that is pleasing
to G-d.
So don’t fear the Noahide. Embrace
the notion that someone can find that Torah resonates with him, and yet he is
not called to be a Jew. Celebrate that,
when the rabbis formulated what it is that makes humanity worthy, they created
a formula that would endure thousands of years. That despite all the humiliation and
persecution that Jews have been subjected to in the last 2,000 years, so many
individuals believe the Rabbis got it right. Celebrate the richness and truth inherent in
your tradition. That it would be attractive
enough that individuals raised in another tradition would leave that behind and
join the Jewish way through conversion. And that others, unconvinced that Judaism is
for them, would embrace an important element of the Jewish worldview by self-identifying,
and working to live, as a Noahide. Shabbat
shalom.
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