It’s easy to focus on the sheer scale of the destruction, but the rabbis of the Midrash, those ancient interpreters of scripture, dug deeper. They asked: what exactly was so awful that it warranted wiping out nearly all of humanity?
The answer, according to Bereshit Rabbah (31), lies in the verse, “The end [ketz] of all flesh has come [ba] before Me” (Genesis 6:13). It wasn't just that people were sinning; it was the nature of their sins. The text unpacks this verse, explaining that their “time has come to be cut off [lehikatzetz]; their time has come to become desolate [bata]; their indictment has come before Me.” A harsh judgment, indeed. But why?
The Midrash continues, "It is 'as the earth is filled with injustice because of them.'" Okay, injustice. But what kind? What's the difference, the rabbis ask, between simple stealing and this overwhelming “injustice” [ḥamas]?
Rabbi Ḥanina offers a fascinating distinction. He says that ḥamas, in this context, refers to monetary wrongdoing involving amounts less than a peruta. Now, a peruta was a tiny, almost worthless coin. We’re talking about something so insignificant that it wouldn't even be worth taking to court.
Imagine a marketplace. Someone sets out a basket of lupin beans. One person takes a few beans, worth less than a peruta. Then another, and another. Individually, these acts are trivial. No one would bother to pursue legal action over such a small loss.
But collectively? The Midrash paints a picture of a society where petty theft has become normalized, a thousand tiny cuts bleeding the community dry. Everyone’s taking just a little bit, just enough to get away with it, creating a culture of pervasive dishonesty and erosion of trust.
The Holy One, blessed be He, says to them: ‘You acted improperly; I, too, will act improperly with you.’ The Midrash connects this behavior to the verses in Job (4:20-21): “Behold, their remnant has gone away from them, and they die without wisdom… From morning to evening they are broken; forever unnoticed [mibli mesim], forever they will perish.”
That phrase, mibli mesim, "forever unnoticed," is key. The Midrash cleverly connects the word mesim to the Hebrew word for judge (as in Exodus 21:1, “These are the monetary ordinances that you shall place [tasim] before them”). Thus, mibli mesim can be understood as "without a judge." They made sure their crimes could never be brought before a judge, because each individual act was too small to warrant legal attention. But God sees the cumulative effect.
So, the flood wasn’t just about grand acts of wickedness. It was about the insidious, corrosive effect of petty dishonesty, the normalization of taking what isn’t rightfully yours, even if it’s just a few lupin beans. It's a chilling reminder that even seemingly insignificant actions can have profound consequences, and that true justice isn't just about punishing big crimes, but about upholding integrity in the smallest details of our lives. What kind of world are we building, one peruta at a time?