We get this cryptic verse: "Ḥanokh walked with God, and he was no longer, as God took him" (Genesis 5:24). It's intriguing! What does it mean that God "took" him? Did he die? Did he ascend to heaven like Elijah? It's a question that's puzzled rabbis and scholars for centuries.
The rabbis of the Bereshit Rabbah, a classic collection of rabbinic interpretations of Genesis, wrestled with this verse. One particularly interesting interpretation comes from Rabbi Ḥama bar Hoshaya. He suggests that Ḥanokh isn't even listed among the righteous! According to this reading, the verse implies that Ḥanokh stopped walking with God.
Then you have Rabbi Aivu, who paints an even more nuanced picture. He describes Ḥanokh as capricious, sometimes righteous, sometimes wicked. The Holy One, blessed be He, saw this and said, "While he is still in his righteousness, I will take him away." In other words, God snatched him up before he could fully fall from grace. Rabbi Aivu even suggests that God judged him on Rosh Hashanah, the Jewish New Year, the same day He judges all of humankind. Talk about high stakes!
Now, this idea that Ḥanokh didn’t actually die sparked some serious debate. Heretics, as the text calls them, challenged Rabbi Abahu, pointing out that the text doesn't explicitly mention death. They argued, "God took him. Doesn’t that imply an ascension, not death? We see the same word, 'taking,' used with Elijah!" (II Kings 2:5). And of course, Elijah famously ascended to heaven in a fiery chariot.
Rabbi Abahu, though, was ready for them. He countered, "If you're going to play the 'taking' card, let's look at another verse. In Ezekiel 24:16, God says, 'Behold, I am taking from you the delight of your eyes.'" That refers to Ezekiel’s wife, who did die. Ouch. Rabbi Tanḥuma even chimed in, saying that Rabbi Abahu answered them well. Sometimes, "taking" means death.
There's even a story about a noblewoman who posed the same question to Rabbi Yosei. He explained that if the verse had simply said, "Ḥanokh walked with God" and stopped there, then maybe, just maybe, we could assume he ascended. But the verse continues: "And he was no longer, as God took him." Rabbi Yosei argues that this means Ḥanokh was no longer in this world because God took him.
So, where does that leave us? Was Ḥanokh righteous or wicked? Did he die, or was he taken to heaven? The rabbis in Bereshit Rabbah offer us multiple perspectives, each one adding a layer of complexity to this enigmatic figure. The beauty of these ancient texts is that they don’t give us easy answers. They invite us to grapple with the questions ourselves, to consider the different possibilities, and to find our own meaning in the story of Ḥanokh, the man who walked with God… and then, was no more.