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How the Rabbis Found Love Inside the Flood and the Famine

Noah finds a friend before the flood drowns his neighbors. God argues with the angels before deciding on the verdict. Abraham gets a famine the week he arrives.

Curated by Arthur · Told by Maggid ·
Table of Contents
  1. Noah Did Not Just Find Favor, He Found a Friend
  2. Why God Agreed With the Angels
  3. The Famine at the Border of the Promised Land
  4. Three Shapes of the Same Thing

Noah Did Not Just Find Favor, He Found a Friend

Genesis says Noah found favor in God's eyes. Two words. The rabbis spent paragraphs on them because the two words were not two words at all. They were a description of a relationship, and the rabbis needed to know what kind.

Rabbi Yohanan pictured two strangers meeting on a road and recognizing something in each other. He cited Joseph finding favor with Potiphar and read Noah's favor as the same kind of meeting. God befriended him. Not elevated him, not selected him for survival logistics. Befriended him.

Reish Lakish pushed the stakes higher. Strangers meet and one ends up ruling the other. Esther found favor with everyone who saw her and became queen. Noah's favor, on his reading, was authority. God did not just like Noah. God handed him the world.

The unnamed Rabbis went further. The favor became a marriage bond. They cited the spirit of grace in Zechariah and the union between God and Israel and said that Noah's finding favor was the same verb as a bride finding grace in her husband's eyes. Before the flood, before the ark, before the animals arrived two by two, God had already married Noah to the task of survival.

Why God Agreed With the Angels

The flood did not arrive because God decided alone. The rabbis taught that God called a council. The angels argued, and God argued back, and what came out of the argument was a decision that could not be undone by either side alone.

The generation of the flood had stolen, corrupted every living thing, and violated the basic architecture of the created order. The angels said: "destroy them." God said: "wait." And then God said: "yes." But the rabbis read the exchange as evidence that divine justice needs to be heard before it can be executed. The flood was not a mood. It was a verdict reached after everything that could be said had been said. God agreed with the angels not because they had more power but because they had made the only argument that could survive examination.

Even then, the water was not cold. The rabbis taught that God boiled the flood waters in the deep before releasing them. The generation that had made the world inhospitable was punished with heat. The same element they had distorted was sent back to them in its most extreme form.

The Famine at the Border of the Promised Land

God blessed Abraham at Haran and told him to go to Canaan. Abraham went. He crossed the border. He set up an altar. He called on the name of God. And then the land he had been sent to famine.

The rabbis could not pretend the timing was accidental. The man was one week past the greatest promise of his life and the land was already failing. Rabbi Levi read it as discipline. God chastises the ones He loves while they are still on the road, so they understand that the gift is not automatic and the covenant is not a blank check. The famine was not punishment. It was a test administered to someone who had just demonstrated they could pass it.

But the rabbis also read it as love. Not soft love. The kind of love that refuses to let you settle into the gift before you understand what it costs. A father who calls his son back the moment the son thinks he has arrived.

Three Shapes of the Same Thing

Read the three passages together and they form one argument. God befriended Noah before destroying his world. God argued with the angels before executing the verdict. God faminished Abraham's new land before letting him settle into the promise. In each case, what looks like judgment from the outside is something else from the inside. A friend is being prepared. A decision is being made with full deliberation. A patriarch is being trained.

The rabbis of Bereshit Rabbah refused to let the flood be simple. They found three different shapes of divine care inside the most brutal narrative in Genesis, and they insisted that each shape was love, just not the kind that feels comfortable from the receiving end.

Midrash RabbahNoahFloodAbraham
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The texts this telling draws on, in full. Open a card to read inline, or expand it for a wider, quieter read.

Bereshit Rabbah 29:4Bereshit Rabbah

In Bereshit Rabbah, a classic collection of rabbinic interpretations on the Book of Genesis, we find a fascinating discussion about the depth of that relationship.

Rabbi Yoḥanan, Rabbi Shimon ben Lakish, and a group simply called "the Rabbis" couldn't quite agree, each offering a unique perspective.

Rabbi Yoḥanan uses a beautiful analogy: To what extent does that initial connection go? Yoḥanan says it deepens into a real friendship. Just like Joseph found favor in Potiphar's eyes, leading to a bond of friendship. As it says in (Genesis 39:4), "Joseph found favor in his eyes." So too, God befriended Noah, as it were.

Rabbi Shimon ben Lakish sees it differently. He also pictures two people meeting on the road, but this time, the connection leads to something more powerful: authority. Think of Esther, who "found favor in the eyes of all who saw her" (Esther 2:15). This favor ultimately led to her becoming queen. For Rabbi Shimon ben Lakish, Noah finding favor meant he was given mastery over all living things, as described in (Genesis 9:2).

Then we have the perspective of "the Rabbis." Their analogy? Meeting someone on the road and developing such a strong connection that you give them your daughter in marriage! This is a much more profound level of intimacy and trust. They connect this to the verse in (Zechariah 12:10), "I will pour a spirit of grace and supplication upon the house of David." The Rabbis understood this as a spirit of divine wisdom, often personified as one's "daughter" – a reference, explains the Maharzu commentary, to profound wisdom. So, Noah, by finding favor, was granted exceptional wisdom.

And just how profound was this wisdom? The Midrash (rabbinic interpretive commentary) continues, explaining that Noah possessed the incredible knowledge to know precisely when each animal needed to be fed – which one at the second hour of the day, and which at the third hour of the night! This is no small feat. Think of the sheer amount of knowledge and understanding of the natural world that would require!

So, what does all of this tell us? The Rabbis are showing us that finding "favor" in God's eyes isn't just a passive blessing. It represents a deep, many-sided relationship that can manifest as friendship, authority, or profound wisdom. It’s a connection that empowers and elevates the individual.

Perhaps, then, the next time we read about someone finding favor, we can remember these interpretations and appreciate the richness and complexity of that divine connection. It's not just about being liked; it's about entering into a transformative relationship with the Divine.

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Bereshit Rabbah 31:12Bereshit Rabbah

The verse in question, (Genesis 6:17), is pretty stark: “And behold, I am bringing the flood, water upon the earth, to destroy all flesh…” But the rabbis, masters of nuance, pick up on something extra. That little word "and" – "and behold, I am…" Why is it there? The Midrash (rabbinic interpretive commentary) sees this as God almost… concurring with someone. Who? The angels! Remember when they questioned God, "What is man that You remember him?" (Psalms 8:5)? It's as if God is saying, "Yes, even I agree, after all that has happened, destruction is now the answer." Powerful stuff. It shows the weight of the decision, the internal struggle, even within the Divine.

Then there's the phrase, "The flood, water." Bereshit Rabbah notes that it started as water, but became the flood. It's a subtle, but important distinction. The waters began to rise, and then, as they persisted, they became an overwhelming, destructive force. And the text says "everything that is on the earth will perish [yigva]." The Midrash is careful to point out that yigva here means "waste away," not "expire peacefully." The destruction wasn't gentle.

Amidst this devastation, there's hope: Noah. “But I will keep My covenant with you,” God says (Genesis 6:18). And The Midrash asks, why does Noah need a covenant? Is it just for his safety? According to Bereshit Rabbah, it's about practicalities. He needed a guarantee that the food he stored wouldn't rot! But it's also about something more profound. Remember the nephilim, the giants from (Genesis 6:4)? The Midrash suggests they were so powerful they could literally block the sources of the flood! The covenant was needed to ensure that these mighty beings couldn't interfere with God's plan. It says that if one of the giants would try to enter the ark, his legs would teeter, as it says in (Job 26:5): “The giants will tremble under the water and its dwellers.” And if a lion tried to get in, its teeth would become dull (Job 4:10). Think of it – even the mightiest creatures were subject to the power of the covenant.

Rabbi Ḥiyya bar Abba adds another layer: Noah was a carpenter, he built the ark. But even with his skill, he wouldn't have been able to enter the ark without God's covenant, because of the violent weather and the threat from those who wanted to kill him. The covenant wasn't just about surviving the flood, it was about enabling Noah to fulfill his purpose.

And what about Noah’s family? Rabbi Yehuda bar Simon and Rabbi Ḥanin, quoting Rav Shmuel bar Rabbi Yitzḥak, point out that once Noah entered the ark, procreation was forbidden! "You shall come to the ark: You, and your sons" – by yourself – "and your wife, and your sons' wives," by themselves. Only after they emerged was it permitted again: "Go out of the ark: You and your wife, and your sons and your sons’ wives" (Genesis 8:16). Rabbi Avun connects this to (Job 30:3), “They are in want and in famine, they are solitary [galmuda].” He says that during times of crisis, we should treat our wives as galmuda, like a menstruating woman (as they say in coastal cities), meaning refraining from marital relations. Rabbi Huna reinforces this, citing (Genesis 41:50), which mentions Joseph having children before the famine. The implication? Times of catastrophe call for a different kind of intimacy, a focus on survival and solidarity, not procreation.

So, what does this all mean? The story of Noah isn't just a simple tale of destruction and survival. It's a complex exploration of divine judgment, human responsibility, and the power of covenant. It reminds us that even in the darkest of times, there's always a glimmer of hope, a promise of renewal. But it also challenges us to consider our actions, our relationships, and our priorities in the face of crisis. What kind of covenant are we making, both with ourselves and with the world around us?

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Bereshit Rabbah 40:2Bereshit Rabbah

Like, you're on your path, feeling good, and then BAM! Suddenly, everything changes. Maybe it's a job loss, a health scare, or just a general feeling of being lost. How do we react when those moments hit?

Well, the tradition turns to the story of Abraham.

The Book of Psalms says, "Blessed is the man whom You chastise, Lord." (Psalms 94:12). Rabbi Pinḥas, quoting Rabbi Ḥanin of Tzippori in Bereshit Rabbah, interprets this in an interesting way: even when things are tough, God is offering us instruction. But, Rabbi Pinḥas adds, it's up to us whether we choose to see it that way, or whether we become indignant about our misfortune.

Think about Abraham. God promises him, "I will bless you and I will render your name great" (Genesis 12:2). Sounds pretty good. But then what happens? As soon as he sets out, famine strikes!

Now, Bereshit Rabbah asks us, how does Abraham respond? Does he throw his hands up in the air, complaining about the unfairness of it all? No. He doesn't complain or become indignant. Instead, "Abram descended to Egypt to sojourn there." He takes action.

Rabbi Yehoshua ben Levi offers another perspective, drawing on (Psalms 111:5), "He gives food [teref] to those who fear Him." Now, teref can mean food, but it also carries the connotation of "disruption." Rabbi Yehoshua suggests that God sometimes brings disruption into our lives, especially to those who strive to live with reverence. Why? Because in the future, "He remembers [His covenant] forever" (Psalms 111:5).

Again, we see this with Abraham. He faces famine, but he doesn't protest. According to the Rabbis, he understands that even in the midst of hardship, a greater reward awaits. He trusts in the long game.

So, what's the lesson here? It's not that bad things will never happen to good people. It's that our response to those challenges shapes us. We can choose to become bitter and resentful, or we can seek the instruction, the deeper meaning, within the hardship. Like Abraham, we can trust that even in the face of famine, a future blessing awaits. Even when life gets disruptive, we can sojourn, we can adapt, and we can remember the promise of something greater to come.

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