Parshat Noach6 min read

Noah Could Not Curse Ham, So He Cursed Ham's Youngest Son

Noah woke up sober and went looking for the son who had done it. God had blessed all three brothers at the ark, so the one man he wanted was untouchable.

Curated by Arthur · Told by Maggid ·
Table of Contents
  1. What Ham Said Outside the Tent
  2. The Partner Who Killed Four Animals Under the Vine
  3. Noah Woke and Could Not Reach the Man He Wanted
  4. Four Marks and a Father's Will
  5. The Garment on Two Shoulders
Noah Could Not Curse Ham, So He Cursed Ham's Youngest Son Click for full size

What Ham Said Outside the Tent

Ham came out of his father's tent into the light and found his two brothers and told them what was lying in there. He did not tell it plainly. He made it funny.

"The first man had two sons," he said, "and one of them killed the other. This man has three sons, and he wants a fourth."

The brothers did not laugh. Ham had not finished either. He went back in and set about doing something to Noah's body while the old man lay there insensible, an operation with one purpose, so that the fourth son his father wanted would never be born. Then he came out again.

His own son Canaan had been the one who told him to go and look.

The Partner Who Killed Four Animals Under the Vine

Noah had come off the ark with a reputation. He was Noah the pious, the one man God had kept out of the water. He lost the name the day he became a man of the ground.

He had found a slip of the vine Adam carried out of the garden, tasted the grapes, liked them, and started digging. A stranger came along the row while he was setting the cutting in.

"What is it you are planting here?"

"A vineyard."

"And what are the qualities of what it produces?"

"The fruit is sweet, wet or dried. It gives wine that gladdens a man's heart."

"Let us go into partnership," Satan said, "in this business of planting a vineyard."

"Agreed."

Satan brought a lamb and cut its throat over the roots. Then a lion. Then a pig. Then a monkey. He let the blood of each one run down under the vine and told Noah exactly what he was watering it with. Before a man drinks he is harmless as the lamb. A cup or two and he is strong as the lion. Past what he can carry he is the pig. Drunk to the bottom he is the monkey, dancing, singing, saying filthy things, with no idea what he is doing.

Noah watched four animals die at his feet and planted the vine anyway. Adam had gone down through this same fruit, since the thing forbidden in the garden was the grape and Adam had made himself drunk on it, and that did not stop Noah either. He planted it in the morning. It bore that day. He pressed it, drew off the juice, drank, went under, and was dishonored. All of it inside one turn of the sun.

Noah Woke and Could Not Reach the Man He Wanted

He came out of the wine and understood what had been done to him, and there was nothing he could do to Ham.

God had blessed all three brothers as they walked down off the ark. A blessing out of that mouth does not come back, and a curse cannot be laid over the top of it. Noah stood there sober with the one name he wanted and no way to say it.

So he counted. Ham had made sure Noah would never have a fourth son, a last-born. Noah turned and cursed Ham's last-born instead. Canaan, the youngest, the boy who had sent his father in to look, took the whole weight of it, and God pays out measure for measure.

Four Marks and a Father's Will

The curse came apart into pieces that matched the pieces of the act. Ham had looked, so his line carried red eyes. Ham had used his lips to describe what he saw, so his line carried misshapen lips. Ham had turned his head and twisted it round to keep looking, so his line carried hair that grew twisted and curled. Ham had left his father uncovered, so his line went uncovered.

Not all of it was inherited. Canaan had earned a share of his own, standing outside the tent and pointing his father at the door.

When Canaan came to die he left instructions to his children, and they read like a man handing down the only thing he had. Do not tell the truth. Do not keep yourselves away from theft. Live loosely. Hate your master with an exceeding great hate. And love one another.

The Garment on Two Shoulders

Shem had gone for a cloth while Ham was still talking. He laid it across his shoulder, and Japheth took the other end onto his, and the two of them walked backward into the tent with their faces turned away and put it down over their father without seeing anything. Shem started it. Japheth joined after the work had begun, and that half-step of difference followed both families forever. Shem's descendants wear the tallit. Japheth's wear the toga.

Noah blessed them in the same order. "Blessed be the Lord, the God of Shem," he said, joining God's name to a living man's, which is not done for anyone still breathing. To Japheth he gave a land of beauty and said his sons would come as converts into the academies of Shem. He meant more than a school. He meant that the divine presence would settle in the first Temple, built by Solomon out of Shem's line, and would not settle in the second, built under Cyrus out of Japheth's.

Then the family broke apart. Ham learned he had been cursed and ran, ashamed, and built a city far off and named it for his wife. Japheth could not stand to be outdone and built one of his own the same way. Shem was the only son who did not walk away from the old man. He built in sight of his father's house, up against the mountain, and named it Zedeketelbab. The three cities stand around Mount Lubar where the ark came to rest, one to the south, one to the west, and one to the east.


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The texts behind this telling. Some cards carry a translation of the source; others are our own retelling of it, and each card says which. Every card links out to the original.

Legends of the Jews 4:66Legends of the Jews

Retold in our words. Read the original at the link below.The Legends of the Jews by Louis Ginzberg (1909) · Public Domain

Think about Noah for a second. The flood survivor, the righteous man who saved humanity and all the animals. In many ways, he was considered pious, a paragon of virtue. But according to some accounts, things changed when he turned his attention to... grapes.

The story goes that Noah discovered the very vine that Adam had carried out of Paradise after the expulsion. A direct connection to the Garden of Eden. He tasted the grapes, liked what he tasted, and decided to cultivate it. He became a "man of the ground," as some texts put it. (Ginzberg, Legends of the Jews).

The Midrash (rabbinic interpretive commentary) actually suggests that the entire process, from planting to inebriation, happened in a single day! Incredible. He planted the vine, it bore fruit immediately, he pressed the grapes, drank the juice, and. well, he got drunk and dishonored himself.

There's another player in this drama. A shadowy figure who seems to pop up whenever things are about to go sideways: Satan.

The story in Legends of the Jews tells us that Satan just happened to be passing by as Noah was planting the vine. He asked Noah, "What is it thou art planting here?"

This seemingly innocent question is loaded. What does Satan know about the vine, and what does he intend to do with this knowledge? The text suggests that his presence, at that precise moment, was no accident.

This is where the tale pivots, hinting at the darker consequences of Noah’s discovery. His actions, though perhaps unintentional, paved the way for excess, curses, and even the introduction of slavery. Quite a heavy burden for one vineyard, wouldn’t you say?

What does it all mean? Perhaps it’s a cautionary tale about the potential for even the most righteous individuals to stumble. Maybe it’s a reflection on the duality of nature, how something as beautiful and seemingly benign as a grapevine can lead to both joy and ruin. Or maybe it's simply a reminder that even after surviving a global catastrophe, humanity is still, well, human. Flawed, complex, and full of surprises.

Full source
Legends of the Jews, IV. Noah, The Curse Of DrunkennessLegends of the Jews

Retold in our words. Read the original at the link below.Project Gutenberg eBook #1493, The Legends of the Jews, Volume 1 · Public Domain

The story of Noah and the vine is a wild ride through temptation, disrespect, and divine retribution.

In Legends of the Jews, Noah's troubles began when he decided to cultivate the vine. He went from being "the pious" to "a man of the ground," and in doing so, inadvertently opened the door to excess and its consequences. It all started with a vine that Adam, the first man, had taken with him when he was expelled from the Garden of Eden. Noah tasted its grapes, found them pleasing, and decided to plant it.

The very day Noah planted the vine, it bore fruit! He pressed the grapes, drank the juice, got drunk, and was…well, dishonored. All in a single day.

Who was there to witness this agricultural endeavor? None other than Satan himself. As the story goes, Satan casually strolls by as Noah is planting, and asks, "What are you planting?" Noah, enthusiastic, replies, "A vineyard!" Satan, ever the instigator, proposes a partnership. Noah, perhaps a little too trusting, agrees.

Now, here's the really strange part. To seal the deal, Satan slaughters a lamb, a lion, a pig, and a monkey, letting their blood flow under the vine. This, according to the tale, is to illustrate the different stages of drunkenness. Before drinking, you're innocent as a lamb. With moderate consumption, you feel strong as a lion. Too much, and you become like a pig. And utterly intoxicated? You’re a monkey – dancing, singing obscenities, completely unaware of your actions.

You'd think that would be a deterrent. But as Ginzberg recounts, Noah, like Adam before him (who, according to some traditions, fell because the forbidden fruit was actually a grape!), was undeterred. He proceeds to get drunk and, in his inebriated state, finds himself in his wife's tent. His son Ham sees him there, and instead of looking away, he tells his brothers about their father's nakedness, adding insult to injury with disrespectful comments. He even tries to prevent Noah from having more children!

When Noah sobers up, he’s understandably furious. But because God had already blessed Noah and his sons after the flood, he couldn't directly curse Ham. So, he curses Ham’s youngest son, Canaan, instead. As we find in the story, the descendants of Ham, through Canaan, are marked with physical traits reflecting Ham's disrespect: red eyes for looking at his father's nakedness, misshapen lips for speaking of it, twisted hair for turning his head to look, and nakedness as a punishment for not covering his father. It’s a harsh example of "measure for measure" justice.

And Canaan? Well, his last will and evidence of his children is quite a piece of work: "Speak not the truth; hold not yourselves aloof from theft; lead a dissolute life; hate your master with an exceeding great hate; and love one another." Not exactly a recipe for a virtuous life!

Meanwhile, Shem and Japheth, Noah’s other sons, are rewarded for their respectful behavior. They covered their father's nakedness by walking backward with averted faces. As a result, their descendants receive blessings. The descendants of Ham, the Egyptians and Ethiopians, were led away captive and into exile by the king of Assyria, while the descendants of Shem, the Assyrians, even when the angel of the Lord burnt them in the camp, were not exposed, their garments remained upon their corpses unsinged. And in time to come, when Gog shall suffer his defeat, God will provide both shrouds and a place of burial for him and all his multitude, the posterity of Japheth.

Shem, who took the initiative in covering Noah, receives the greater reward: the tallit (prayer shawl). Japheth, who joined in later, gets the toga. Noah even blesses Shem by saying, "Blessed be the Lord, the God of Shem," an honor usually reserved for the deceased.

The relationship between Shem and Japheth is also defined: "God will grant a land of beauty to Japheth, and his sons will be proselytes dwelling in the academies of Shem." Noah also prophesies that the Shekinah (divine presence) will dwell only in the first Temple, built by Solomon, a son of Shem, and not in the second, built by Cyrus, a descendant of Japheth.

So, what are we to make of this story? It's a cautionary tale about the dangers of excess, the importance of respect for elders, and the far-reaching consequences of our actions. It prompts us to consider: How do we handle our own temptations? And how can we ensure we're building a legacy of respect and responsibility, rather than one of curses and shame?

Full source
Legends of the Jews 4:75Legends of the Jews

Retold in our words. Read the original at the link below.The Legends of the Jews by Louis Ginzberg (1909) · Public Domain

It's a story of survival, new beginnings..and a rather unfortunate curse.

The familiar version gives us the tale: the great flood recedes, the ark rests on Mount Ararat, and Noah, his family, and all the animals disembark to repopulate the earth. A moment of profound hope. But then, things take a turn. Noah plants a vineyard, makes wine, and, well, gets drunk. In his inebriated state, he disrobes. His son, Ham, sees his father's nakedness and tells his brothers, Shem and Japheth. They, in turn, respectfully cover their father without looking at him.

When Noah awakens from his stupor, he learns what has transpired. And instead of directly cursing Ham, the perpetrator, he curses Ham's youngest son, Canaan.

Why Canaan? This is a question that has puzzled commentators for centuries. Ginzberg, in his Legends of the Jews, suggests that Noah couldn’t curse Ham directly because God had already blessed Noah and his sons as they left the ark. A divine blessing, it seems, is a powerful thing. So, Noah, unable to harm Ham himself, directs the curse at Canaan, "the last-born son of the son that had prevented him from begetting a younger son." Ouch.

But the story doesn't end there. The Midrash (rabbinic interpretive commentary), specifically Tanhuma Noah 13, goes into vivid detail about the alleged physical consequences of Ham's transgression. It says that the descendants of Ham through Canaan were cursed with specific physical traits: red eyes because Ham looked upon his father's nakedness; misshapen lips because he spoke about it; twisted, curly hair because he twisted his head to look; and nakedness because he didn't cover his father.

This idea of "measure for measure" – middah k’neged middah – is a recurring theme in Jewish thought. The way we act in the world, the tradition teaches, comes back to us. As we find in Midrash Rabbah, God's justice is precise and proportionate. Ham's disrespect, in this understanding, leads to a specific, tangible consequence for his descendants.

This story certainly raises a lot of questions. Is it a just curse? What does it say about inherited guilt? And how should we interpret these physical characteristics attributed to Canaan's descendants?

The tale of Noah's curse on Canaan is a complex one, steeped in questions of divine justice, familial responsibility, and the enduring impact of our actions.

Full source
Legends of the Jews 4:81Legends of the Jews

Retold in our words. Read the original at the link below.The Legends of the Jews by Louis Ginzberg (1909) · Public Domain

The familiar telling remembers Shem, Ham, and Japheth, but what were their lives really like after they stepped off the ark?

The blessing Noah bestowed upon them speaks volumes. It hints at a unique dynamic, a destiny intertwined. "God will grant a land of beauty to Japheth," Noah proclaimed, "and his sons will be proselytes dwelling in the academies of Shem." (Ginzberg, Legends of the Jews). It's not just about land or lineage. It's about a spiritual partnership, a sharing of wisdom. The descendants of Japheth, blessed with worldly beauty, would find themselves drawn to the spiritual depth of Shem's teachings, studying in his academies.

There's a deeper layer still. Noah's words also implied something about the Shekhinah (שכינה), the Divine Presence. The Divine Presence, Noah suggested, would only dwell in the First Temple, built by Solomon, a descendant of Shem. But not in the Second Temple, which was built by Cyrus, who descended from Japheth. What does that tell us about the relationship between these brothers and their destinies? It's a subtle, powerful statement about lineage, holiness, and the unfolding of God's plan.

What of Ham? How did he react to his father’s curse? According to Legends of the Jews, shame consumed him. He fled, building a city for himself and his family, naming it Neelatamauk after his wife. It’s a poignant image: a man driven by shame to create his own world, separate from his father and brothers.

Japheth, too, felt the pull to create his own space. Perhaps driven by a jealousy similar to Ham's, or maybe simply wanting to establish his own identity, he built a city and named it Adataneses after his wife. We see here, perhaps, the seeds of future divisions, the natural human desire for independence and recognition.

Only Shem remained near his father, building his city, Zedeketelbab, close to Noah's home by Mount Lubar – the very mountain where the ark had rested. Imagine that: the ark, the symbol of survival and renewal, looming over their lives. These three cities, each representing a different path, a different response to the world after the flood, were all situated around Mount Lubar: Neelatamauk to the south, Adataneses to the west, and Zedeketelbab to the east.

What does it all mean? This isn't just a story about three brothers. It's a reminder that even in the wake of destruction, the seeds of new beginnings, new conflicts, and new connections are always being sown.

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