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Noah Walked Beside God but Abraham Walked in Front

One preposition separates Noah from Abraham. The rabbis of Bereshit Rabbah turned that single word into a portrait of two distinct ways of following God.

Curated by Arthur · Told by Maggid ·
Table of Contents
  1. A Single Preposition, Two Men
  2. What the Word Tamim Carried
  3. What Noah Could Not Do Without Support
  4. The Friend Who Asked for Signs

A Single Preposition, Two Men

The Torah uses almost identical language for two of its greatest figures, and the difference is one word. Of Noah: Noah walked with God. Of Abraham, God says: Walk before me and be faultless. With. Before. The rabbis of Bereshit Rabbah noticed this at once, and the discussion they built around it refuses to let either man be diminished by the comparison.

They brought two analogies. Rabbi Yehuda saw a prince with two sons. The younger son needs guidance, a steady hand nearby, someone to walk with him until he finds his footing. The father says, "walk with me." The older son, stronger and more capable, is trusted to go ahead, to lead, while the father follows at a distance able to watch the whole path. God told Noah, who needed support, to walk alongside. God told Abraham, who could lead, to walk ahead.

Rabbi Nehemya disagreed about the framing but not the conclusion. He saw a king whose friend is stuck in thick mud. The king says, "rather than sink, walk with me: keep up with me, match my pace, use my proximity as the thing that keeps you out of the mud." When the friend is out of the mud and walking on solid ground, he no longer needs the king beside him. He can walk in front and the king follows at an appropriate distance, watching. Noah needed the support. Abraham had moved past needing it.

What the Word Tamim Carried

Both men were described as tamim, usually translated as faultless or perfect or blameless. The rabbis of Bereshit Rabbah noticed that every person called tamim in the Torah lived a lifespan that was a multiple of seven. Noah lived 350 years after the flood. Abraham lived 77 years after the moment God told him to walk before Him and be tamim. The number itself was a sign. Wholeness was built from sevens.

But the word tamim did more than describe a character trait. It described a relationship with completeness, with the kind of integrity that does not split the inner life from the outer one. Noah's tamim was real. Abraham's tamim was the same quality expressed in a different context, a context where God no longer needed to walk beside him to ensure it held.

What Noah Could Not Do Without Support

The comparison between the two men runs through ten generations. From Noah to Abraham there were ten generations, just as there were ten from Adam to Noah, and in each case the tradition reads those generations as evidence of God's patience: He could have spoken to any of the people in that long chain, any of the ten between Noah and Abraham, and He chose to wait for the one who was ready. The wisdom that made Abraham the right choice had been building through all the generations that came before.

Noah was righteous in his generation. The tradition debates this phrase, some reading it as unqualified praise, some reading it as a relative judgment: righteous compared to the people around him, which was a lower bar than righteous in any generation. Noah did what he was told. He built the ark when he was commanded. He brought the animals. He waited for the signal to come out. He did everything God instructed, and he did it all alongside God, with the presence beside him, step by step.

Abraham argued. He pushed back against the destruction of Sodom even when he had no personal stake in the outcome. He walked to Moriah without being walked there. He entered a covenant with questions and concerns and requests for signs. He negotiated. He went ahead.

The Friend Who Asked for Signs

Rabban Yochanan ben Zakkai opened one of his teachings with a verse from Genesis 15: In that day the Lord made a covenant with Abram. He pointed out that Abraham, hearing the great promise about his descendants inheriting the land, asked a question that might have looked like doubt: How will I know that I will inherit it? He wanted proof. He was willing to ask for it.

This was not faithlessness. It was the behavior of a man mature enough in his relationship with God to say, "I need more than a promise, show me the mechanism." God responded with the covenant between the pieces, the terrifying vision of the smoking oven and the flaming torch passing between the halves of the animals. Abraham got his sign. He had earned the right to ask for one.

Noah did not ask for signs. He received commands and obeyed them. There is dignity in that. But Abraham had moved past receiving commands to participating in the relationship that generated them. He walked ahead. He could see where the path was going, and he moved toward it, and God, watching him from behind, approved of what He saw.

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Bereshit Rabbah 30:10Bereshit Rabbah

Rabbi Yehuda offers a beautiful analogy. Imagine a prince with two sons, one older and stronger, the other younger and perhaps more vulnerable. To the younger, the prince says, "Walk with me," offering support and guidance. But to the elder, he says, "Come and walk before me," acknowledging his strength and expecting him to lead. According to Rabbi Yehuda, it's like that with Noah and Abraham. God tells Abraham, who is portrayed as spiritually strong, "Walk before Me and be faultless" (Genesis 17:1). But Noah, perhaps perceived as needing more Divine support, "walked with God."

Rabbi Nehemya offers a different, equally compelling image. Think of a king whose friend is stuck in thick mud. The king, seeing his friend’s plight, says, "Rather than sink in the mud, walk along with me." That's Noah, according to this interpretation. He needed God's direct support to work through the turbulent world around him.

Then, Rabbi Nehemya pivots to Abraham. He compares Abraham to a friend of the king who sees the king walking in dark alleys and tries to help by shining light through a window. The king, appreciating the effort, says, "Rather than illuminating for me through the window, come and illuminate before me." In other words, God called to Abraham, “Rather than illuminating for Me from Mesopotamia and its environs, come and illuminate before Me in the Land of Israel!” (Gen. 48:15). Abraham was called to be a beacon, actively shaping the world around him.

It's a powerful contrast. Noah needed God's hand to hold. Abraham was called to be a light, actively leading the way.

But the discussion doesn't end there!

Rabbi Yoḥanan and Reish Lakish, two prominent sages of the Talmud, offer still other perspectives. Rabbi Yoḥanan compares God to a shepherd standing and watching over his flock. Reish Lakish, on the other hand, sees God as a prince walking with elders going before him.

Now, here's where it gets really interesting. According to Rabbi Yoḥanan's shepherd analogy, we are in need of God's glory – His constant care and protection. But according to Reish Lakish's prince analogy, He is in need of our glory, that we will publicize His name throughout the world.! Is God self-sufficient, or does He, in some way, need us to reveal His presence in the world? The sages leave us with a profound question about the very nature of our relationship with the Divine.

So, what does it mean to "walk with God"? Is it about needing guidance, offering illumination, being part of a flock, or even revealing God's glory to the world? Perhaps it's all of these things, a complex and ever-evolving dance between humanity and the Divine. Each of us, like Noah and Abraham, finds our own way to walk – and perhaps, in doing so, we shape the very path itself.

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Bereshit Rabbah 39:5Bereshit Rabbah

Our ancestors certainly did. And in the story of Abraham, we find the ultimate tale of answering that call. God speaks to Abraham, then still Abram, and says, "Lekh lekha" – "Go you, from your land." (Genesis 12:1). But why him? Why this particular man, living in that particular time?

The sages of the Bereshit Rabbah, that incredible collection of rabbinic interpretations of Genesis, saw this moment as the culmination of generations. They asked: What made Abraham so special that God chose him?

They find a clue in Ecclesiastes (7:19): "Wisdom will fortify the wise more than ten rulers who were in a city." What's that got to do with Abraham? Well, the rabbis connect it to the ten generations from Noah to Abraham. God could have spoken to any of them, but it was Abraham, with his unique wisdom and understanding, who was ready to listen. "From among all of them, I spoke only with you," God says. It’s a powerful reminder that readiness matters.

Rabbi Azarya takes it even deeper, drawing a parallel to Jeremiah (51:9): "We sought to heal Babylon, but it was not healed; forsake it, and let us go, each to his land." He sees a pattern of brokenness and missed opportunities throughout early history.

"We sought to heal Babylon" – Rabbi Azarya says this refers to the generation of Enosh. We're talking about a time when, according to some traditions, humanity started to go astray, to profane God's name (Genesis 4:26). But "it was not healed" – that is, the generation of the Flood. A cataclysmic event, a reset button pressed on creation because humanity had become too corrupt. And then, "forsake it" – the generation of the Dispersion, the story of the Tower of Babel. They tried to build a tower to the heavens, to make a name for themselves, defying God's will.

Each generation failed to heal the world, to live up to its potential. So, what's the answer? "Let us go, each to his land" – and that brings us back to Abraham. "The Lord said to Abram: Go you, from your land." Abraham's journey wasn't just a physical one; it was a spiritual departure from a world that had repeatedly failed to heal itself.

The choice of Abraham, then, wasn't arbitrary. It was the result of a long chain of events, a series of missed opportunities. He was the one who finally said "yes" to the call, who was willing to leave behind the familiar and embrace the unknown, all for the sake of a higher purpose.

And isn't that the challenge for all of us? To recognize the brokenness around us, to resist the urge to repeat the mistakes of the past, and to answer the call to something greater? Maybe, like Abraham, we each have a "lekh lekha" moment waiting for us. A moment to leave behind what is, and journey towards what could be. What is your "lekh lekha" moment? What land are you being called from?

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Bereshit Rabbah 30:8Bereshit Rabbah

In the book of Bereshit, Genesis, we find two such words used to describe key figures: tamim and haya. What do they really mean?, because the Rabbis of old sure had some fascinating ideas.

First, the story turns to the word tamim. It's often translated as "faultless" or "perfect," but according to Bereshit Rabbah, specifically section 30, there's a numerical connection too. Bar Hatya suggests that anyone described as tamim, "faultless," lived to an age that was a multiple of seven. Why seven? Well, multiples of seven were considered "complete.": Noah, who's called tamim, lived 350 years after the Flood. Abraham, also called tamim in (Genesis 17:1), lived 77 years after that moment.

For haya. This word simply means "was." Sounds straightforward. But Rabbi Yochanan saw something deeper. He believed that anyone described with haya was righteous from beginning to end. But then someone raises a challenge: What about Abraham? (Ezekiel 33:24) says "Abraham was one, and he inherited the land." Was Abraham righteous from the very start? Wasn't he an idolater in his youth?

Here's where it gets interesting. Rabbi Yochanan doubles down, bringing in an interpretation from Rabbi Levi in the name of Reish Lakish: Abraham recognized his Creator at the tender age of three! So, in that sense, he was righteous from beginning to end.

But Rabbi Yochanan wasn't done. He had another, even more intriguing idea about haya: it signifies destiny.: "Behold, man [Adam] has become [haya]" (Genesis 3:22) – he was destined for death. "The serpent was [haya]" (Genesis 3:1) – destined for calamity. "Cain was [haya]" (Genesis 4:2) – destined for exile. And so on, through Job (destined for suffering), Noah (destined for a miracle), Moses (destined to be a redeemer), and Mordechai (destined for redemption).

It's like haya isn't just saying what someone was, but hinting at what they were meant to be.

Rabbi Levi and other Rabbis had even more to add. Rabbi Levi suggested that anyone described with haya saw a new world emerge. Rabbi Shmuel listed five examples: Noah, Joseph, Moses, Job, and Mordechai.: Noah saw the world after the Flood. As it says in (Job 14:19), "stones were worn away by water," and Rabbi Levi, quoting Rabbi Yochanan, says that even the lower millstone was obliterated in the water. But then, after all that, "The sons of Noah who emerged from the ark"? (Genesis 9:18). It was a whole new reality!

Joseph went from chains to ruler, Moses from fleeing Pharaoh to drowning him, Job from utter despair to double blessings, and Mordechai from the brink of execution to triumph. Each one experienced a complete transformation.

But the other Rabbis had a different take. They said that anyone described with haya fed and sustained others. Noah cared for the animals on the ark, Joseph provided for his family in Egypt, Moses fed Israel in the desert, and Job, though he suffered, rhetorically asked, "I ate my bread alone, and an orphan did not partake of it?" (Job 31:17).

And then there's the story of Mordechai and Esther. Rabbi Yudan says that Mordechai, unable to immediately find a wet nurse for Esther, nursed her himself. Rabbi Berekhya and Rabbi Abahu, in the name of Rabbi Eliezer, even said that milk came into him! This caused quite a stir when Rabbi Abahu shared it, with the audience bursting into laughter. But Rabbi Abahu retorted, "But is it not stated in a mishna: Rabbi Shimon ben Elazar says: The milk of a male is not subject to ritual impurity?" (Mishna Makhshirin 6:7). A surprising detail, perhaps, but it emphasizes Mordechai's role as a provider and sustainer.

So, what do we make of all this? Is tamim just about being faultless, or does it hint at a divinely ordained lifespan? Does haya simply mean "was," or does it whisper of destiny, transformation, and the act of sustaining others? Perhaps it's all of the above. These ancient Rabbis, through their interpretations, invite us to look beyond the surface and find the deeper meaning hidden within the words of the Torah. It's a reminder that even the simplest word can hold layers of wisdom, waiting to be uncovered. And maybe, just maybe, it's a call to consider our own destinies, our own potential for transformation, and our own capacity to nourish and sustain the world around us.

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Pirkei DeRabbi Eliezer 48:1Pirkei DeRabbi Eliezer

Our ancestors wrestled with these questions too, and their stories offer profound insights.

The story begins with Rabban Yochanan ben Zakkai, a towering figure in Jewish history, opening his teaching with a verse from (Genesis 15:18): "In that day the Lord made a covenant with Abram, saying, Unto thy seed will I give this land, from the river of Egypt unto the great river, the river Euphrates." A powerful promise. But Abraham, then still known as Abram, voices a concern. He says to God, essentially, "You haven't given me any children yet! How can you promise this land to my descendants when I don't even have any descendants?"

It's a very human moment, isn't it? A moment of doubt, of questioning. And then Abram asks, "Whereby shall I know that I shall inherit it?" (Gen. 15:8). He wants assurance. He wants proof.

What does God say in response? Does God get angry? Dismissive? No. The Holy One, blessed be He, responds with a firm but understanding rebuke. "Abram! The entire world stands by My word, and thou dost not believe in My word?" It's a challenge, yes, but also an invitation to deeper faith.

And then comes the pivotal line: "By thy life! In two ways shalt thou surely know." God then reveals a difficult truth: "Know of a surety that thy seed shall be a stranger in a land which is not theirs,… and they shall afflict them" (Gen. 15:18).

This is a heavy prophecy. It speaks of exile, of suffering, of affliction. It lays the groundwork for the entire narrative of the Egyptian bondage. But why? Why is this suffering necessary?

Well, the text suggests that it's intertwined with Abraham's initial doubt. Because he asked for proof, because he questioned the divine promise, a period of hardship was ordained for his descendants. The Zohar, that foundational text of Jewish mysticism, often explores the idea that our actions, even our thoughts and doubts, have consequences that ripple through time.

It's a sobering thought, isn't it?: this narrative isn't just about the past. It's about the enduring tension between faith and doubt, between divine promise and human questioning. It reminds us that even in the face of uncertainty, even when promises seem delayed or impossible, there is a divine plan unfolding. It's a plan that may involve hardship, yes, but also ultimately leads to fulfillment.

So, what do we take away from this? Perhaps it's a call to cultivate stronger faith, to trust in the divine even when we don't fully understand. Or maybe it's a reminder that our actions have consequences, and that even our doubts can shape the future. Whatever your takeaway, this ancient story from Pirkei DeRabbi Eliezer offers a powerful lens through which to view our own lives and the challenges we face.

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Yalkut Shimoni on Torah 50:1Yalkut Shimoni on Torah

"Noah walked with God" (Genesis 6:9). Rabbi Judah says: This is like a king who had two sons, one grown and one small. To the small one he said, "Walk with me," and to the grown one he said, "Walk before me." So Abraham, whose strength was good, was told, "Walk before Me and be perfect" (Genesis 17:1); but Noah, whose strength was weak, of him it says, "Noah walked with God." Rabbi Nehemiah says: This is like a friend of the king who was sinking in mud. The king looked out and saw him and said to him, "Rather than sinking in the mud, come and walk with me." This is what is written, "Noah walked with God." And to what is Abraham compared? To a friend of the king who saw the king walking in dark alleys and began to give him light through the window. The king said to him, "Rather than lighting for me through the window, come and give light before me." So the Holy One, blessed be He, said to Abraham our father, "Rather than giving Me light from Spain and its environs, come and give Me light in the Land of Israel." This is what is written, "And he blessed Joseph and said, the God before whom my fathers Abraham and Isaac walked" (Genesis 48:15).

Rabbi Yochanan compared it to a shepherd standing and watching over his flock [God watching Noah]. Resh Lakish compared it to a prince walking with elders before him. According to Rabbi Yochanan, we need His honor; according to Resh Lakish, He needs our honor.

"Noah was a righteous man, perfect" - this teaches that he was born circumcised. Why is "Noah" written three times in the verse? Because he is one of three men over whom three worlds passed; therefore Scripture pairs them: "Noah, Daniel, and Job" (Ezekiel 14:14). "And Noah begot three sons, Shem, Ham, and Japheth" (Genesis 6:10) - it lists them by order of their wisdom, for it is written, "And Noah was five hundred years old, and Noah begot Shem" (Genesis 5:32). Shem was older than Japheth by two years, for it is written, "And Noah was six hundred years old when the flood came" (Genesis 7:6), and it is written, "These are the generations of Shem: Shem was a hundred years old when he begot Arpachshad two years after the flood" (Genesis 11:10) - so he was a hundred and two; rather, it lists them by their wisdom. Rav Kahana said: We learn it from here, "And to Shem also were born, he the father of all the children of Eber, the brother of Japheth the elder" (Genesis 10:21).

"And the earth was corrupt" (Genesis 6:11). The school of Rabbi Ishmael taught: Wherever "corruption" is stated, it refers only to idolatry and sexual immorality. Idolatry, as it is written, "Lest you act corruptly" (Deuteronomy 4:16). Sexual immorality, as it is written, "And the earth was corrupt." "For all flesh had corrupted" (Genesis 6:12) - this teaches that they mated domestic animal with wild animal, and wild with domestic, and all with man, and man with all. Rabbi Abba said: And all of them returned to their kind except for the tushlami, which did not return.

"The end of all flesh has come before Me, for the earth is filled with violence" (Genesis 6:13). Rabbi Elazar said: How great is the power of robbery, for the generation of the flood transgressed everything, yet their sentence was not sealed until they stretched out their hands in robbery, as it is said, "For the earth is filled with violence," and it is written, "Violence has risen up into a rod of wickedness" (Ezekiel 7:11) - this teaches that it stood itself up like a staff and stood before the Holy One, blessed be He, and said before Him, "Master of the universe, not from them and not from their wealth and not with their pleasantness." And upon Noah too the sentence was sealed, as it is said, "I regret that I made them" (Genesis 6:7) - and Noah [is named there too].

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Midrash Tanchuma Buber, Lech Lecha 26:1Midrash Tanchuma Buber, Lech Lecha

It is written concerning Noah (Genesis 6:9), "Noah walked with God," and it is written concerning Abraham, "Walk before Me." One who reads this might suppose that Noah was greater than Abraham, but it is not so. Rabbi Yochanan and Resh Lakish differed.

Rabbi Yochanan said: A parable. To what is the matter comparable? To a king who had two sons, one grown and one small. The small one would hold onto him so that he would not fall, but the grown one would walk before him. So it is written concerning Noah, "Noah walked with God," so that he would not be sunk away with the generation of the flood. But Abraham, who was the only one of his kind in the world and was righteous, to him the Holy One, blessed be He, said, "Walk before Me and be perfect."

Resh Lakish said: A parable. To what is the matter comparable? To a king who had a beloved friend who was sunk in the mire, and he took hold of his hand and raised him up out of the mire. So Noah was sunk in the mire; the Holy One, blessed be He, saw him, gave him a hand, and raised him up out of the mire. And to what was Abraham comparable? To a king who was walking in the darkness. His beloved friend came and saw him and gave him light. The king said to him, "Since you are giving light to me, come and walk before me." So [in the days of] Abraham the whole world was wicked, and he was righteous. The Holy One, blessed be He, said to him, "Since you are giving light in the east, walk before Me."

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Midrash Tanchuma Buber, Lech Lecha 26:2Midrash Tanchuma Buber, Lech Lecha

Of Noah it is written (Genesis 6:9): "Noah walked with God." And it is written concerning the fathers of the world (Genesis 48:15): "The God before whom my fathers walked."

Rabbi Yochanan said: To what were the fathers comparable before the Holy One, blessed be He? To a shepherd who walks along while his flock walks before him.

Resh Laqish said to him: Until now the flock has had need of the shepherd. Rather, to what were the fathers comparable before the Holy One, blessed be He? To a prince who walks along while his elders walk before him, and the elders make known the honor of the prince. So did the fathers of the world walk before Him, as it is stated (Genesis 48:15): "before whom my fathers walked." Hence (Genesis 17:1): "Walk before Me and be perfect."

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