Rosh Hodesh Welcoming Heshvan
Rosh Hodesh Heshvan is traditionally associated with the story of Noah and the flood, which we read from the Torah around this period each year, as we will this coming Shabbat. This year in particular it feels appropriate to read a story of peril and transformation as much around us feels uncertain. The joy of seeing the hostages home with their families sits uneasily with the fragility of ceasefire and danger of the potential for renewed fighting in Israel. There is a midrash in Genesis Rabbah about Noah which speaks powerfully to this moment of deep chaos and uncertainty.
The midrash names five biblical figures, Noah foremost among them, who were remarkable in their capacity “to see a new world,” a better world, even when this world looked most bleak. Noah witnessed catastrophic destruction, and the midrash teaches that even when he saw the worst of the flooding he believed that the world would regenerate. The midrash says that Mordecai was going to be killed by Haman but even at the moment of his despair, he saw the possibility of a new world where there would be justice for his people. The midrash speaks to the core of Jewish life: we are a people of hope despite any dark circumstances.
The possibility of a new world is cultivated by sustaining others.
This midrash is well known precisely because of its articulation of hope. But what is often missed by interpreters of the midrash is the second part of the text which says that these same five biblical figures (Noah, Mordecai, Moses, Job and Joseph) who all “saw a new world” despite their despairing circumstances, were all people who fed and sustained others in need. Noah fed the animals on the ark; Joseph “provided for his fathers and brothers;” and the midrash says that Mordecai miraculously breastfed and sustained Esther [sic – unpacking that statement would be a whole other message.]
The midrash links the ability to envision a new world, to hold on to hope so dearly, with the impulse to provide material care. Having faith the world will change for the better and actively feeding and caring for others are intimately connected.
It is easy enough to despair that the dynamics of chaos and polarization which are present here and in Israel may be inexorable. But this midrash not only encourages us to see the possibility of a new world, it suggests that the way to hopefulness is in the practice of feeding the hungry. The possibility of a new world is cultivated by sustaining others.
The deep message here is that durable hope is the product of moral action. It is one thing to know that we should always have hope for a better future, but this midrash reminds us that we must embody that hope in regular and ongoing ways.
Rabbi Dan Judson, PhD is the Provost of Hebrew College in Newton, MA. Previously he served as Dean of the College’s Rabbinical School.