According to Midrash Tehillim, an ancient collection of rabbinic teachings on the Book of Psalms, it starts with the very vessel prepared for death itself. One interpretation in Midrash Tehillim 7, dives into the verse "And He prepared a vessel for him of death, for himself." What does "half of it to the fuel" even mean? Rabbi Ibu suggests it refers to the wicked. Those people whose hearts burn with sin even as they live and breathe. Imagine a fire constantly stoked by their own misdeeds.
Then Rabbi Yosei offers another perspective: these are the people who actually kindled the fire in the Temple. A far more literal interpretation, perhaps, but one that speaks to the profound consequences of specific actions. The Sages, in their wisdom, broaden the scope yet again. They say these are the haters of Israel. As Lamentations 4:19 poignantly puts it: "They hunted our steps, that we could not go in our streets; our end is near, our days are fulfilled; for our end has come." The haters, the pursuers, those who seek to erase a people – they are the ones fueling the vessel of death.
But it's not all fire and brimstone. The Midrash then shifts gears with a story, as they so often do, about Noah and the Ark. Remember that line from Psalms, "Behold, wickedness travails and conceives mischief, and brings forth falsehood"? Well, Rabbi Levi uses the story of Noah to illustrate just that.
When God instructed Noah to bring two of every kind into the ark, they came in pairs, as Genesis 7:8-9 tells us: "Two by two they came to Noah, into the ark, male and female of every living thing." But there was one exception: the chameleon. One single, lonely chameleon.
This little reptile approached Noah and asked to be paired with its own kind. Noah, reasonably, said, "I can't help you unless you have a mate." So the chameleon went off and, after a bit, returned with a companion. They approached the ark together, but a cat stopped them.
"Where are you going?" the cat asked.
"I'm going into the ark," the chameleon replied.
The cat, seeing an opportunity, declared, "I'll come with you!"
"You can't," the chameleon countered, "you're not one of my kind."
The cat, ever resourceful (or perhaps, deceitful), insisted, "I’ll become like you!"
And here’s where it gets interesting. The chameleon, perhaps sensing the cat's trickery, laid down a condition: "If you become like me, then you may come with me."
The cat, determined to infiltrate the ark, went away and returned… with a striped coat. It approached Noah, proclaiming, "I am a chameleon and I want to come into the ark!"
Noah, unconvinced, said, "You are not a chameleon."
The cat, doubling down, said, "I'll prove it to you!" And, true to its word, the cat changed its colors. Noah, presented with apparent proof, allowed it into the ark.
But the story doesn't end there. Once inside, the cat caused trouble for all the other animals. It stirred up conflict and discord. And the moral of the story? Whoever lies will bring trouble, and whoever speaks the truth will be saved.
It’s a powerful reminder, isn’t it? That falsehood, even when it seems to succeed in the short term, ultimately breeds discord and chaos. The cat, through its deception, gained entry to the ark, but its presence brought trouble. The chameleon, on the other hand, while initially alone, ultimately found its mate and upheld the truth.
So, what does this all mean for us? Perhaps it's a call to examine the "vessels of death" we might be preparing, consciously or unconsciously, with our own actions and words. Are we fueling them with sin, with hatred, with falsehood? Or are we striving to speak the truth, even when it's difficult, and to build a world where truth and kindness prevail? That’s something worth pondering, wouldn’t you say?