blogs/rabbi-huberman

This week’s Torah portion has a sidebar concerning the life of Noah. Chances are, you did not learn it in Hebrew school.

And in some ways, its mention reminds us that Torah possesses the capacity to guide us through today’s most difficult and challenging issues.

Indeed, this week’s parashah is packed with many stories and lessons: We read about how God sends a great flood that wipes out almost all of civilization.

We witness how—following the flood—the world is reconstituted, based on seven commandments that predate the Ten Commandments.

The Torah then describes how this new society—founded upon one language, one culture and a singular lust for power—attempts to build a tower “higher than God” – the Tower of Babel.

But tucked into this week’s multitude of stories, is a disturbing incident that exposes us to humanity’s dark side, and the loneliness and vulnerability that exist within so many. Indeed, the episode passes by so quickly, it is often missed or ignored.

The Torah shares, “Noah, the tiller of the soil, was the first to plant a vineyard. He drank of the wine, and became drunk and he uncovered himself within his tent.” (Genesis 9:20-21)

Within these two sentences, the Torah acknowledges a disease that afflicts so many today, tracing it back more than 4,000 years.

Early in the parashah we are told that Noah is righteous – a person of respect and good character “in his age.”

So, how are we to understand Noah’s transition from biblical hero to one who—at least on this occasion—overindulges? 

How do we explain Noah’s apparent descent?

The Etz Chaim Torah Commentary speculates:

“Overwhelmed by the task of rebuilding a destroyed world, finding himself virtually alone and friendless in a nearly empty world, or perhaps burdened by a sense of guilt at having survived when so many others perished, Noah turns to drink.”

Does this make Noah an evil person?  Of course not. But it does open the window to a discussion of that lonely place within each of us.

During my career as a rabbi, I have been called many times to preside at the funeral of a young person whose life has ended due to a drug overdose. To a person, they are referred to by family and friends as “sweet.”

Indeed, this world can often times feel unjust. At times we all can feel lonely. And this reality affects some more than others.

To be clear, Judaism sends out mixed messages regarding intoxicants. Wine is mentioned 140 times in the Bible. At certain times of the year within biblical Israel, wine is consumed more than water.

The Talmud tells us that it is good to sip wine under the chupah (the wedding canopy) because—to paraphrase—”wine makes us feel good.”

There are two holidays, Purim and Simchat Torah, where it is suggested that we should over-indulge in alcohol in order to fully immerse ourselves in joy.

But in 2025, we no longer live in small communities like ancient Jerusalem or the mythical Anatevka.

We are surrounded by intoxicants. You can find stores selling alcohol on virtually every street corner or in every shopping center. And soft drugs are now available in every community.

A rabbinical colleague once shared his grief following the tragic death of a family on their way to Simchat Torah services; their car was slammed by a group of young men, who were plied with alcohol at their religious academy.

Of course, there are no simple answers to the plague of substance abuse, but how remarkable that in this week’s parashah, the Torah does not shy away.

And in their discussion, our Sages acknowledge that those affected are not failing in moral character, but—rather like Noah—can be affected by this “disease of the heart.” And each of us is descended from Noah.

Noted the great Sage, Nachmonides, “Even Noah…whose righteousness saved the world…was undone by wine.”

In the sentences which follow, the Torah suggests that the compromised Noah is sexually abused by one of his sons—yet another example of the Torah’s warning against overindulgence.

This is a lesson within the study of Noah, which we need to consider. There is no evidence in the Torah that this was more than a one time incident. But scripture deems it worthy of mention.

It is why perhaps we, as a community, need to support those who are affected – especially family members and friends.

That is also why about 10 years ago, our congregation launched a program, through a trained counsellor, to support family members who are affected. (Please contact me if you would like more information.)

Through this initiative we have pledged to elevate the topic of substance abuse from the basements of our synagogues and churches to our libraries and multi-purpose rooms, where real and open conversations can take place.

The reference to drunkenness in this week’s Torah portion, however brief, helps us embrace and empathize with Noah and all others suffering from alcoholism and similar afflictions.

Jewish communities within Florida and California offer widespread clinics and support groups dealing with addiction. It is a shanda, a disgrace, that Jewish communities—especially those in New York—lag so far behind.

During these times, when so many numb themselves through the Internet and other escapes, our communities must commit resources to address addictions of all kinds. 

Let us also recognize that this is no longer a plague that occurs in someone else’s neighborhood; this has become a Jewish issue. 

Therefore, this week let us remember the humanity and complexity of Noah—a person righteous in his time – who, like so many who have passed away in recent years, was consumed by this disease of the heart.

The Torah takes us there this week and challenges us—as individuals and communities—to endorse programs of support and recovery with deep respect for those who have overcome, and now flourish.

For as the Torah teaches this week, even biblical heroes can be affected by this disease. And that for each of God’s creations, from ancient times to today, there can always be a road back.

Shabbat shalom, v’kol tuv.

Rabbi Irwin Huberman