This is not a political Dvar Torah. Parashat Noaḥ 5785.

There are topics that rabbis are allowed to talk about from the bimah and issues that are not. Politics is one of them. Not because I think rabbis shouldn’t have an opinion on politics, but because it can be interpreted as a power abuse. I’m here speaking to you, using this space to deliver a message. If I’m the only one doing that, it is not fair to others who don’t have the opportunity to do so, especially when it comes to politics and elections, because that would influence and affect your vote and could eventually change the course of things. After all, words matter.

But don’t worry, I won’t tell you who to vote for or who not to vote for. I personally believe that as citizens, we have more power than any leader, and things depend much more on us than on our prime minister, president, or rabbi.

Parashat Noaḥ tells us about two different punishments for humankind: one at the beginning and one at the end, where the first is more severe than the second. At the beginning of the Parashah, we learn about the Great Flood that was inflicted on the world and how Noaḥ, after being chosen by God, saved himself and his family from this. At the end of the Parashah, we read about another punishment: the mix-up or confusion of languages in Babylon.

What’s the difference between these two cases?

Well, as in every castigation or retribution, the punishment depends on the act committed. The actions that led to the Great Flood were not the same acts for which humankind was punished in Babylon during the time of the “Dor Hapalagah,” the Secession Generation.

Already by the end of the previous Parashah, the Torah suggests that things were not going well and that the situation was dangerous. God saw all the evil done by human beings:

“Hashem saw how great was human wickedness on earth—how every plan devised by the human mind was nothing but evil all the time.”

(Bereshit / Genesis 6:5)

Immediately after, it seems that God regrets his creation, creating man, and decides to impose a heavy penalty on humankind, the Great Flood.

Ok, I got it. People were not behaving well, and Hakadosh Barukh Hu decided to do what he did, but why? What was people’s sin? What was this wickedness?

The same thing happens at the end of the Parashah when the Torah describes the story of the Tower of Babel. That happened when “everyone on earth had the same language and the same words” (ibid. 11:1). God didn’t like that idea, as it’s written: “and God said, “If, as one people with one language for all, this is how they have begun to act, then nothing that they may propose to do will be out of their reach.’” (ibid. verse 6). But hold on a second; what is so terrible about “same language and same words?” What is the crime here? The willingness to climb and reach high?

In the first case, the “Dor HaMabul,” the generation of the Great Flood, the Talmud explains:

“That generation Rabbi Yoḥanan says: Come and see how great is the power of robbery, as the generation of the flood violated every precept, but their sentence to be destroyed was not sealed until they extended their hands and engaged in robbery.”

(Sanhedrin 108a)

This means that they were evil in every way, but no punishment was inflicted on them until they robbed one another. God could forgive any other sin or transgression, but he couldn’t handle it if they hurt one another. The generation of the flood was punished because they couldn’t work it out together; their relationship deteriorated to the point that they robbed and hurt each other.

On the other hand, the “Dor Hapalaga,” the generation of Sesession, the builders of the Tower of Babel, were actually united; they consolidated and worked together. One of their goals was to reach the top—literally! To build the highest tower possible, to be famous, and to let their name spread all over the world. Moreover, some people say that building this tower was an attempt to establish a gate for God to come to the world. (That’s why the name of the place in Hebrew is Babel, or in Arabic, BAB-EL, God’s Gate.) That generation wasn’t punished only because of their strong will to build a high tower that reaches the skies, but also because they tried to tell God where and when He would enter the world He created. They also sinned by speaking “the same language and the same words.”

The generation of the Flood paid for their lack of unity, and the Generation of Babylon paid for their absence of vision. The generation of the Flood hurt each other and forgot that it is not possible to build a society or allow humanity to flourish when no one considers his partners.

Babylon's generation didn’t understand that being together doesn’t mean everyone needs to think the same way or believe in the same values and ideas.

This is the last Shabbat before the elections. We should bless this Shabbat as we blessed the one before the beginning of the month.

People must find a balance, trying to work together and be together without hurting each other. At the same time, they must understand that unity does not mean uniformity.

Different opinions should always be welcomed and accepted, mainly when they differ from our views. That is the real challenge, to challenge ourselves.

The Generation of the Flood sinned long before the flood came, but they crossed the line when they hurt others and were unable to internalize the message of working together.

The Generation of Babylon worked together, united, but that same group of people thought that they, and only they, were the owners of truth, speaking the same language, thinking in the same rods.

We are required to build this balance of unity, but not for the purpose of being together or reaching the sky. We are required to spread the light over the earth.

Shabbat Shalom

Ḥodesh Tov.