The Torah tells us Noah sent it out not once, but twice. The first time, it came back with an olive branch – a sign of hope! But the second time… nothing. It just... didn’t return.
So, what's the deal? Why did Noah send it out again after just seven days? And why didn't it come back?
It's a fascinating little puzzle, isn't it?
Well, the Midrash of Philo tackles this very question. Now, Philo, or Philo of Alexandria, was a Jewish philosopher who lived way back in the first century. He tried to harmonize Greek philosophy with Jewish thought, and his writings give us some incredible insights into how ancient Jews understood the Torah.
Philo, in his unique style, asks, “Why, in the third place, after seven other days, did he again send forth the dove, which did not again return to him?” It’s a straightforward question that opens a door to a wealth of interpretations.
The key here is the number seven.
Seven days passed between the first and second sending of the dove. In Jewish tradition, seven is a number loaded with meaning. It represents completion, perfection, and the natural cycle of time. Think of the seven days of creation, or Shabbat, the seventh day of rest.
So, Noah waits seven days. What's he waiting for? Perhaps he's giving the earth a chance to further dry and for life to regenerate.
But the dove doesn’t return. Why?
The Midrash doesn't explicitly tell us why in this particular fragment, but it invites us to consider the possibilities. One interpretation, drawn from other sources, suggests that the dove, finding a place of rest and sustenance, simply decided to stay. It had found a new home on the (partially) recovered earth.
Think about it. The flood was devastating. Everything was destroyed. The dove's return with the olive branch was a sign of hope, but it also signified that the dove hadn’t yet found a suitable place to settle. But the second time? Maybe it found that perfect tree, that little haven, and thought, "Yep, this is it. I'm staying."
Maybe it's a simple explanation.
But there could be a deeper symbolic meaning, too. Perhaps the dove's departure signifies a new beginning, a release from the past. The dove had done its job, delivered its message of hope, and now it was time to move on. Its non-return symbolizes the transition from a world of destruction to a world of renewal. Maybe the dove represents the Ruach HaKodesh – the Divine Spirit – which, having delivered its message, now resides within the newly cleansed earth.
What do you think?
The beauty of Midrash, and of engaging with texts like these, is that there isn't always one right answer. It's about wrestling with the questions, exploring the possibilities, and finding meaning in the details. It’s about seeing the world, and the Torah, through the eyes of our ancestors, and adding our own perspectives to the ongoing conversation. It’s a journey of discovery, a continuous search for understanding that connects us to something far greater than ourselves.