Discussing Torah matters because the Torah matters

Some Thoughts about Noah

In our Christian Bibles, we have chapters and verses, but in Jewish Bibles, there are no such chapters. Instead there are portions called parshas. These parshas, or portions, are much longer than the chapters we’re familiar with. For example, the Bible’s first parsha spans six chapters! Gen. 1:1 - Gen. 6:8 is the Torah’s opening act in a Hebrew Bible. It begins with creation and runs continuously until Genesis 6:8, when Noah finds grace in the eyes of the LORD. That’s quite a lot for the first act! But there it is, all in one portion without pause: the beauty of the Garden to the fall of man, the murder of a brother to the corruption of all humankind. I like to imagine God in the audience, watching this act unfold and shaking His head in disgust. He wants to leave, but wait!––right at the last second, right before the curtain drops––Noah finds grace in the eyes of the LORD! The stage goes to black, the curtains close, and God turns to His angels and says, “Let’s stay for the next act!”

Indeed, “Noah found grace in the eyes of the LORD” ...the line that saved the play! It is even better in Hebrew, too, due to the word play. The word “grace” is “Noah” spelled backward:

Noah: נח (letters: nun, chet
Grace: חן (letters: chet, nun)
*The letter nun stands up if at the end of a word

Who is this Noah who found grace in the eyes of the LORD? Well, we’re first introduced to him when he receives his name. He is named “Noah” because, as his father Lamech says in Genesis 5:28-29, “[Noah] will comfort us in the labor and painful toil of our hands caused by the ground the Lord has cursed.” The word translated as “comfort” is the word nacham in Hebrew, and nacham (נחם) is Noah (נח) with one extra letter at the end (ם). The words are closely related. Suffice to say, nacham is the word Lamech was thinking about when he named his son Noah.  

Here’s something intriguing: this word nacham makes its next appearance in Genesis 6:6-7. We see it twice as we read, “The LORD regretted (nacham) that He had made human beings on the earth, and His heart was deeply troubled. So the LORD said, ‘I will wipe from the face of the earth the human race I have created––and with them the animals, the birds and the creatures that move along the ground––for I regret (nacham) that I have made them.” And then comes the line that closes the act: “But Noah found grace in the eyes of the LORD.” 

I find it intriguing that the word Noah’s dad was thinking of when he named his son Noah is the same word that God was thinking of when He looked at His creation and Noah came to mind. I am puzzled by this, but it just goes to show the depth of what we’re reading, and also the poetry of the Hebrew language––how one word can encompass so much meaning. 

Here’s the word nacham in Hebrew:


You can see it’s Noah’s name plus the letter mem at the end. 


In Jewish thought, mem is the letter of water. (This is a common association, well known to any Hebrew speaker.) The letter mem also has a numerical value of 40. Interestingly, the sky will rain water for 40 days and 40 nights after Noah climbs abroad the ark.  

If I write nacham vertically, it looks like this:


See what we’ve done? We’ve just set Noah on the water. We’ve just lifted him with 40. In this way, the word nacham tells the story of Noah and the flood.

I will include one last note of interest as it has to do with the word nacham. We see nacham show up again in Exodus 32:14. Now this is fascinating––stay with me as I give you the context of the chapter. Moses has been talking to God atop Mount Sinai for 40 days. But back at the camp, the Israelites have meanwhile constructed a golden calf and they are eating and drinking and indulging in revelry. God says to Moses, “Go down, because your people have become corrupt. They have been quick to turn away from what I commanded them . . . I have seen these people,” the Lord said to Moses, “and they are a stiff-necked people. Now leave me alone so that my anger may burn against them and that I may destroy them...” (Exodus 32:7-10, shortened for our purposes). Do you see the parallels stacking up between this and the story of Noah? 

But wait, it goes on! Picking up in verse 11: But Moses sought the favor of the LORD his God. “Lord,” Moses says, “why should your anger burn against your people? . . . Why should the Egyptians say, ‘It was with evil intent that he brought them out, to kill them in the mountains and to wipe them off the face of the earth’? Turn from your fierce anger; relent (nacham) and do not bring disaster on your people. Remember your servants Abraham, Isaac and Israel...” . . . Then the Lord relented (nacham) and did not bring on his people the disaster he had threatened. (Exodus 32:12-14)

Moses then goes down the mountain, carrying with him the two tablets with the ten commandments. “The tablets were the work of God” (Exodus 32:15). “When Moses approached the camp and saw the calf and the dancing, his anger burned and he threw the tablets out of his hands, breaking them to pieces at the foot of the mountain. And he took the calf the people had made and burned it in the fire; then he ground it to powder, scattered it on the water and made the Israelites drink it.” (Exodus 32:19-20)

Let’s compare the story of the flood and the story of the golden calf. In one story, Noah has to deal with corruption. In the other story, Moses has to deal with corruption. We will see numerous symmetries:


What is the Higher Law?

Lights flashing and sirens blazing, an ambulance speeds down the road toward a home that has just called 911. The speed limit is 45mph, but the ambulance is traveling at 65mph. Is the ambulance violating the law? 

Well, even though the speed limit is violated, a higher law comes into play. You can think of it this way: in the big scheme of things, what is the law designed to protect? Life! It’s purpose is to protect life. The speed limit, as you know, is put in place to protect life. But in emergency situations, an ambulance transcends the speed limit because the protection of life calls for it. Thus, in a greater sense, the law is never actually broken, because again, the law is established for the protection of life. An ambulance speeding down this road at 65mph is a fulfillment of the law’s ultimate purpose.

A similar dynamic applies to God’s law. This is very important to understand when we move to become “doers of the word and not hearers only” (James 1:22, written at a time when there was no New Testament). If we understand its purpose, we can begin to discern what Jesus calls “the weightier matters of the law.” Understanding the law’s purpose is paramount because, if we don’t, we can actually offend the purpose of the law with our efforts to keep the law. This requires some explanation.

As we strive to keep the commandments to the best of our ability (Romans 3:31), occasionally situations arise in which two commandments come into conflict with one another. In such situations, we must weigh the two commandments and determine which one is greater. The greater one we keep; the lesser one we forgo. But how do we know which is which? Well, I hope some examples will clarify the matter.

The Torah says the seventh day is a day of rest. On that day no one in your household may do any work (Exodus 20:8-10 NLT). However, the Torah also says, “If you see that your neighbor’s donkey or ox has collapsed on the road, do not look the other way. Go and help your neighbor get it back on its feet!” (Deuteronomy 22:4 NLT). Question: what do you do if your neighbor’s donkey gets stuck in a ditch on the Sabbath day?

You say to your neighbor, “I am sorry, but today is the Sabbath. Helping you would require work, and God doesn’t want me to work on this day. You’re on your own, buddy.” Of course you don’t say this! Such a response misses the point and fails to fulfill the purpose of the law. In this situation, God wants you to set aside your rest and help your neighbor get his donkey to its feet. Assisting your neighbor is the higher law and it must take precedent.  

Think back to 1 Samuel 21, when David and his men have fled from King Saul and they find themselves in desperate need of food. The priest––seeing that no ordinary bread is on hand––removes the consecrated bread from before the Lord and gives it to David. Even though the consecrated bread is supposed to be eaten by the priests alone (Leviticus 24:9), the priest is right to give the bread to David because David’s men would starve without it. The priest discerns the higher law and acts accordingly. Is he violating a commandment? Yes, Leviticus 24:9 is violated. But is he violating the Torah? No! The priest is actually fulfilling the Torah’s purpose and keeping with the law’s original intent. We know this is true because Jesus taught it. 

Let’s read Matthew 12:1-5 ESV:
At that time Jesus went through the grain fields on the Sabbath. His disciples were hungry, and they began to pluck heads of grain and to eat. But when the Pharisees saw it, they said to him, “Look, your disciples are doing what is not lawful to do on the Sabbath.” He said to them, “Have you not read what David did when he was hungry, and those who were with him: how he entered the house of God and ate the bread of the Presence, which it was not lawful for him to eat nor for those who were with him, but only for the priests? Or have you not read in the Law how on the Sabbath the priests in the temple profane the Sabbath and are guiltless? ...”

The priests profane the Sabbath? Here Jesus is making a point. He is pointing out that the Sabbath is a work day for the priests attending to the Tabernacle/Temple. There are special activities the priests have to do on the Sabbath day specifically (see Numbers 28:9-10 for example). So we have the Sabbath day in which we are to do no work, and yet the Torah says that certain works are to be done on the Sabbath. Which is it? Are we to keep the Sabbath and do no work? Yes. But then God comes along and says, “But you priests, there is some special work I want you to do on the Sabbath.” And so that, then, becomes the greater commandment––performing their duties in the Tabernacle/Temple. 

Having read Matthew 12:1-5, look at His response to the Pharisees as a whole and note: Jesus is a brilliant Master Rabbi. When He speaks to the Pharisees, it’s like a battle of wits between high-level lawyers. Jesus’ argument is one of transitive relation: “If A is greater than B, and B is greater than C, then A is greater than C.” Referencing 1 Samuel 21, here’s what Jesus is saying: A. Human need trumps the Temple service (taking care of hunger is more important than the priests’ exclusive rights to the holy bread). B. The Temple service trumps the Sabbath (priests have to do work in the Temple on the Sabbath day). If human need trumps the temple service, and if temple service trumps the Sabbath, then C. Human need therefore trumps the Sabbath. Because if A is greater than B, and B is greater than C, A is therefore greater than C. Logically and Biblically, it stacks up.

His hungry disciples plucking grain and eating it resolved a human need. So when the Pharisees saw only a violation of Sabbath, Jesus was like, “Guys! What’s the Torah’s purpose? To give and protect life! Okay––then, keeping in line with the Torah’s purpose, what is the higher law in this situation? What gives and protects life the most: to rest as you define it? Or to eat when we’re hungry? Don’t lose sight of the big picture.” The key thing is that Jesus is not undermining the Torah. On the contrary, He’s restoring balance. He’s expressing the law’s original intent. He’s challenging them to discern the higher law. The Pharisees got it, too. He had bested them using their own book. (They failed to realize He was the author.)  

Let’s look at another example where two laws come into conflict, and how Jesus expects us to hold to the higher law. In Leviticus 21:1, the Torah says to the priests, “No one shall defile himself for a dead person among his people.” (Ezekiel reiterates this later, saying, “A priest must not defile himself by going near a dead person.”) With that in mind, Jesus tells the parable of the good Samaritan. It is centered around a man who fell among robbers. These robbers “stripped him and beat him and departed, leaving him half dead.” So get the picture: the man is lying there and he appears to be dead. Jesus continues, “Now by chance a priest was going down that road. [The priest] saw him and passed by on the other side.” The priest here is merely keeping the law, right? He does not want to defile himself with this man who looks to be dead. But the priest falls short of the higher law: to be a good neighbor and check on the man. Instead, it is a Samaritan who checks on the man and realizes that the man is not dead at all! The Samaritan then helps the man along. The irony of the story is that the Samaritan keeps the law better than the priest does, in that he upholds the higher law and the priest does not. 

In Judaism, there is a rule of thumb that says if two laws come into conflict and you can’t keep both of them, choose to keep the positive one. A positive commandment outweighs a negative commandment. So for example, God’s law commands us not to work on the Sabbath day. The law also says on the eighth day a baby boy is to be circumcised. Circumcision is considered “work” because cutting is one of the 39 Melachot. What happens, then, if the eighth day of the baby’s life coincides with the Sabbath? Which law do we keep? Here’s where the rule of thumb comes into play: if the eighth day falls on a Sabbath, we circumcise nevertheless. The positive commandment trumps the negative commandment. 

If I may offer two examples from my own experience, times in which “You shall love your neighbor...” (a positive commandment) trumped a “You shall not...” (a negative commandment). 

A number of years ago, my wife and I decided to start eating kosher. If you know anything about eating kosher, then you know that pork is one of those “You shall nots. Well, on numerous occasions since our making that decision, I have eaten at a friend’s house in which some form of pork or ham was served for dinner. And guess what? Not only did I not judge them for it (Colossians 2:16), I ate what they offered with delight! I enjoyed every bite of it! Here’s my point: if you (like me) choose to eat kosher (for sanctification, not justification), fantastic! But never forget the higher law: to honor your host. If your host serves up a fine roasted pork––enjoy it! And don’t feel one ounce of guilt for violating the kosher laws, because in this situation, you are not violating the Torah. You violate the Torah only if you embarrass your host or undermine their hospitality in any way. To show them honor is the higher law, for you shall love your neighbor as yourself.

Let me give you another example, this one a little different. Recently, I reconnected with an old friend on Facebook. He and I were instant messaging back and forth. In our written dialogue, he misspelled a certain word (I knew it was not a typo). Well, it happened that I wanted to use that particular word in my response. As I went to type, the thought occurred me: what is the higher law? The law of spelling, or the law of not embarrassing my friend? To me, the answer was obvious. Thus, in my response, I too misspelled the word. I spelled it exactly the way he did so as not to embarrass him. Now look, being a person who likes to write, spelling and grammar are dear to my heart. But the You shall love your neighbor trumped the You shall not misspell a word. 

Here’s the way I see it: how does a bird fly? A bird’s flight is “unlawful” in that it violates the laws of gravity. But there’s more to the story. Just as an ambulance transcends the speed limit, a bird transcends the laws of gravity––operating according to a higher law called “Bernoulli’s Principle.” Bernoulli’s Principle doesn’t nullify gravity. Rather, it compliments gravity. The wings of a bird operate according to this higher law. So, too, we should operate according to the principle of the higher law. Otherwise, we’ll never get off the ground as students of God’s law. 

“The Lord said to Moses, ‘Speak to the people of Israel, and tell them to emphasize the wings of their garments . . . something to look at and remember all the commandments of the Lord, to do them...’” (Numbers 15:27-39).

Abram Had Only Himself to Blame

Genesis 16:2-5 TLV:
Sarai said to Abram, “Look now, Adonai has prevented me from having children. Go, please, to my slave-girl. Perhaps I’ll get a son by her.” Abram listened to Sarai’s voice. So Sarai, Abram’s wife, took her slave-girl Hagar the Egyptian and gave her to Abram her husband to be his wife. Then he went to Hagar and she became pregnant. When she saw that she was pregnant, in her eyes her mistress was belittled. So Sarai said to Abram, “The wrong done to me is because of you! I myself placed my slave-girl in your embrace. Now that she saw that she became pregnant, so in her eyes I am belittled. May Adonai judge between you and me!” Abram said to Sarai, “Look! This was your idea, not mine! So don’t blame me! I listened to you. Really, this is your fault!”

That’s not what Abram said, is it? No, it’s not. Although I must say, such a response would have made sense. After all, Sarai is the one who doubted God’s providence and took matters into her own hands when she suggested this whole idea of giving Hagar to Abram. When Sarai says to Abram, “The wrong done to me is because of you!”––it’s a little off base, because Sarai is the one who started this ball to rolling in the first place. Right? 

Wrong. Sarai is not the one who started this ball to rolling in the first place. The one who actually started this ball to rolling was Abram, back when Abram doubted God’s providence and took matters into his own hands. To see that, we have to flip back a few chapters to Genesis 12...

“Now there was a famine in the land. So Abram went down to Egypt . . . When he was about to enter Egypt, he said to Sarai his wife, “I know that you are a woman beautiful in appearance, and when the Egyptians see you, they will say, ‘This is his wife.’ Then they will kill me, but they will let you live. Say you are my sister, that it may go well with me because of you, and that my life may be spared for your sake.” When Abram entered Egypt, the Egyptians saw that the woman was very beautiful. And when the princes of Pharaoh saw her, they praised her to Pharaoh. And the woman was taken into Pharaoh’s house. And for her sake he dealt well with Abram; and [Abram was given] sheep, oxen, male donkeys, male servants, female servants, female donkeys, and camels.” (Genesis 12:10-16 ESV)

Among those female servants was Hagar the Egyptian! So you see, Abram is the one who actually started this ball to rolling. In fear, he suggested an idea to Sarai––that she pretend to be his sister. Sarai listened to Abram’s voice and played along. Enter Hagar, stage left. We then roll the play forward to Genesis 16: in fear, Sarai suggests an idea to Abram and Abram listens to Sarai’s voice. Enter Ishmael, stage left. One could say Ishmael is Sarai’s fault, but Hagar is Abram’s fault. Had Abram trusted in God’s providence, knowing that God would protect him in Egypt, Hagar never would have entered the storyline in the first place.  

This whole thing must be playing on Abram’s mind as he finds himself looking at the end of his wife’s finger. She is yelling at him, saying, “The wrong done to me is because of you!” It is off base? Yes, somewhat. But notice the restraint with which Abram answers her. He says to Sarai, “Your slave-girl is in your hand. Do to her what is good in your eyes.” Abram does not defend himself. Abram does not say “This is your fault, not mine!” Why? Because he sees the bigger picture. He realizes he has only himself to blame. His wife Sarai simply mirrored his behavior. She had followed his example. And I think herein lies the lesson. When you act in fear and take matters into your own hands, you take the reins away from God. It is at that point that bad stuff starts to happen (even if, at first, you think you’ve resolved the problem). It’s even worse if you’re married because your spouse is your reflection. When you act in fear, it’s likely your spouse will too.

N.T. Wright: Rethinking Life After Death




“Heaven is God’s dimension of present reality. Heaven and Earth are not millions of miles apart. In the Bible, Heaven and Earth intermingle.” One was made for the other. 

What Would Jesus Do?

When Jesus walked the earth in the first century, He lived a sinless life. He was perfect. 

Question: what is the measure we use to gauge that perfection? By what standard was He perfect? 

The law! God’s law, the Torah. It is God’s law by which we measure His perfection. Jesus was sinless according to God’s law, because it is God’s law that tells us what accounts for sin (Romans 7:7). 

When we encounter certain situations, we as Christians ask ourselves, “What Would Jesus Do?” This is tantamount to asking, “What does the Torah say? And what is the spirit of that law?”

Since Jesus always acted in accordance with the law and the spirit of the law, the law is very valuable because it leads us to what Jesus would do in any given situation. 

Now the law can speak for itself, but what is the spirit of the law? Jesus tells us in Matthew 22:

“Jesus replied: ‘Love the Lord your God with all your heart and with all your soul and with all your mind.’ This is the first and greatest commandment. And the second is like it: ‘Love your neighbor as yourself.’ All the Law . . . hangs on these two commandments.” (Matthew 22:37-40 NIV)

In other words, if a law is not kept in the spirit of loving God and loving your neighbor, then you’re playing the song out of key. You’re doing it wrong.