The story of the flood raises an obvious question: what was the nature of the wickedness of the generation of the flood, that prompted such a catastrophic punishment? Rashi, in the opening verses of our chapter, gives two separate answers:

“And the earth was corrupted before God, and the land was filled with violence”

(Gen 6:11).

Rashi: This is language of sexual licentiousness and idolatry (Sanhedrin 57a; 108a), as in the verse “lest you be corrupted” (Deut 4:16).

And a little later we read:

“For the earth was filled with violence” (v. 14).

Rashi: Their sentence was not sealed except for theft (Sanhedrin 108a)

The picture portrayed here is of a society that has lost all sense of decency or basic morality, of respect of one human being for his neighbor or of any kind of norms or rules that are agreed. (Yet another midrash, quoted by Rashi in verse 12, sees this anarchy carried over into the animal kingdom: even the beasts and fowl, who normally instinctively followed certain sexual boundaries, violated these to cohabit with members of other species.) It is no coincidence that the first two of these correspond to two of three “cardinal sins” of Judaism, which a person must die rather than violate (see Sanhedrin 74a ff.); and, in the version of their sins given in the Midrash (Bereshit Rabbah 31.6), the term hamas is seen as referring to all three: sexual licentiousness, idolatry, and bloodshed. Taking the two versions together, one also finds here four of the seven Noahide laws: specifically, those concerned with the morality of the individual in society.

At the risk of overstretching my homiletic license, I would also suggest a certain parallel between these sins and the Garden of Eden story and its sequel. Certain potentialities for human behavior were first discovered in the Garden and in its aftermath. Firstly, hubris and arrogance, the belief in the unlimited and unrestricted potentiality of the human being, closely related to idolatry. Second, although sexuality as such is not perceived as sinful in Judaism, there was a discovery the power and attraction of sexuality, as well as the possibilities for its misuse—i.e., violence and oppression of the other through sex. Third, immediately following the expulsion from the Garden, we have the discovery of violence with the first murder, an act of fratricide.

These three areas are still very much with us in the contemporary world, and indeed relate to the greatest dangers facing humankind. Violence and warfare have always lurked just beneath the civilized façade of the human beast, but in modern times, with nuclear weapons and other diabolical tools of mass destruction, they carry an utterly different significance, making the resolution of conflicts in peaceful way—which seems an utterly quixotic idea, particularly in our region—an urgent imperative. The very real threats to the ecology of the planet earth have their roots in hubris: in the belief that we humans are little gods and can exploit and abuse our environment without consequence. Finally, regarding sexuality: it seems to me that the sexual mores that have emerged in Western countries over the past half-century have weakened the structure of the family—the most basic social unit of all—in ways that may yet have grave and unforeseen social repercussions.

A second question raised by this passage: why is theft, specifically, mentioned as the crowning note? What is meant by “Their sentence was only sealed because of theft”?

In examining the various sins mentioned, we find that bloodshed involves the greatest violation of another person—destroying his very life. Sex, whether consensual or not , is also concerned with intimate penetration of the boundaries of the other’s body. By contrast, gezel, theft, has to do with a person’s property—a certain extension of the person’s identity to certain objects around him, reserved for his use. In a certain sense, then, it seems more tangential and arbitrary than the violations of person.

Indeed, there are many forward-minded people who would celebrate the ethos of Robin Hood: “to rob from the rich to give to the poor.” Many socialists would see the root of all social evils in the notion of private property. Yet Judaism cannot accept such a radical position. The respect for private property, even its sacrosanct character, in some sense relates to respect for the person himself. Whatever quasi-socialist ethos the Torah may advocate in passages such as Leviticus 25 is based on an underlying concept of private property, in which certain categories of property are made public by dint of specific rules and legislation—hefker of produce of the sabbatical year, the corners of the field and other portions being reserved for the poor, release of debts in the seventh year, restoration of property to its original owners in the jubilee year, etc. It never suggests abolishing the category of private property per se.

At this point in history, it is clear that the Soviet experiment in state communism was an abysmal failure (which does not mean that we need to recite Hallel Hagadol over neo-liberal capitalism). Similarly, the kibbutzim have to a large extent reinstated the concept of private property. There is sharing, equality, a sense of mutual responsibility for the collective realm, but they have rediscovered the importance of a certain private sphere that belongs to the individual and/or nuclear family unit. Even if, e.g., the “means of production” are collectively owned, there is still a realm of personal property that remains inviolate.

Finally, a speculation: it occurs to me that, in a certain, semi-technical sense, the sin of eating the fruit of the tree might be described as gezel, as theft. The Garden belonged to God; He gave permission to Adam and Eve to eat everything therein except for the fruit of the one tree; hence, by picking it and eating it they in a certain sense committed an act of theft. Imagine that you invite a guest for dinner. You place food on the table, which he is clearly welcome to eat; but later on you find him, without asking your leave, rummaging through your refrigerator and helping himself to whatever he fancies. You feel a sense of violation: perhaps you were planning to serve this item the next day, or perhaps he consumed the last fruit of the season which you were planning to eat. This sense of violation may be trivial, but it is nevertheless there; the act itself is one of gezel.

Recent Articles by Rabbi Jonathan Chipman

• Re'e: Human Rights and Spiritual Revival from Within. - August 28th, 2008
• Vayhi: The End was Hidden from Him - December 21st, 2007
• Ki Tisa: Love, Justice and Righteousness - March 9th, 2007
• Mishpatim: Jury and Beit Din - February 16th, 2007
• Chanukah: Protecting and restoring religious values - December 22nd, 2006
• Noah: The Nature of Evil - October 27th, 2006

Categories: Bereshit / Genesis, Noah
Tags: Bo, ease, human rights, ISM, palestinians, peace, peaceful, rest, settlers