Measuring for Moral Leaders
Measuring for Moral Leaders
From the desk of Rabbi David Lyon
We have tools to measure our weight and our height. We have tools to measure our shoe size. But what tools do we have to measure the heart and soul of a person? The moral character of a person is not a relative matter. We need a reliable tool and durable models. This week’s Torah portion, Noah, begins with the words, “Noah was a righteous person; he was blameless in his age” (Genesis 6:9). From this we learn two reliable lessons.
First, the rabbis asked if Noah was righteous in his generation because it was a lawless generation (chamas, חמס)? Perhaps he stood above others due to their low moral character. Perhaps Noah wouldn’t have been considered righteous if he had lived in the generation of Abraham. Alternatively, the rabbis considered that Noah would have been righteous in any generation. Though some might still argue to make a point, for our purposes Noah stands out as a moral person in any generation.
Second, Sforno reveals that the Torah praises Noah without immediately mentioning the names of his children. It’s as we read in Proverbs 10:7, “The (mere) mention of the righteous shall be for a blessing.” From this we learn that the progeny of the righteous are their good deeds.
We could look at other biblical figures and call them our role models. But there’s a difference between Noah and other candidates. Even Abraham, our patriarch, was taken to task when he bound his son, Isaac, on Mt. Moriah. What’s more, the Midrash tells us that the event shocked his wife, Sarah, terribly and she died. Even Moses, of all biblical heroes, didn’t uphold God’s holiness in the eyes of the people and he was denied access to the Promised Land. Miriam, too, while celebrated for her leadership, maligned her brother, Moses, and was stricken with a skin affliction until her brother prayed for her recovery, which God granted. Heroes, even biblical heroes, are human. They’re naturally flawed. Their feats of courage paired with their humanness inspire us to feel aspirational about our deeds. What child didn’t feel like he or she could be a hero one day, too?
Only Noah didn’t fail to rise to the occasion and did what God commanded him. Noah, for all the grief that history and storytelling have heaped on him, continues to stand out as a man who listened without question to what God needed him to do. The world was a mess, a chaotic stew, and Noah was called to save God’s creations for what we would likely call a redo. It wasn’t just his acquiescence that was notable; it was also his duty to adhere to a task that, while inexplicable at the time, reflected what the world required in its time of crisis and potential. Ancient flood stories like ours in Torah are familiar in the ancient Near East. They place into proximity the power of the universe to destroy what was created and the power of the universe to be refashioned into something much greater and more useful. In our times, we see crisis and destruction all around us, too. We can’t imagine a catastrophic flood to end the world as we know it, but the metaphor applies when we feel desperate for a proverbial redo and hope in the face of disaster, natural or man-made.
Who do we follow? Who do we call upon? In Judaism, we bow to and worship only Adonai, but we rely on human figures to interpret our highest moral obligations into public policy and political goodwill. Currently, it’s difficult to identify anyone who embodies the highest moral values we cherish or who has demonstrated consistent moral judgment in these tumultuous times. I’m not a fatalist and these aren’t antediluvian times, but now, more than ever, we need a reliable measure to judge human behavior in ourselves and others.
Noah might serve us as a model, if not a starting point, to begin a conversation about the moral commitment required of a person in our times and for all times. And, like Noah, that person would be known for his or her deeds. It’s as the rabbis teach in Pirkei Avot (3:17), “If one’s deeds exceeds one’s wisdom, then one’s wisdom will endure. If one’s wisdom exceeds one’s deeds, then one’s wisdom will not endure. It’s all about one’s deeds.”
L’Shalom,
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Rabbi David Lyon