
Parashat Noah
Beresheet (Genesis) 6:9 – 11:32
Haftarah: Isaiah 54:1–55:5
Two years ago, just days after the horrific attacks of October 7, 2023, I wrote a commentary titled “Finding Peace in the Storm.” At the time, our nation was still in shock, drowning in grief, disbelief, and unanswered questions. I had no idea how prophetic those words would become, or how deeply they would continue to speak two years later.
When I wrote that “our world can change overnight,” I was describing what we had just lived through. Evil had shown its face, not hidden, not symbolic, but real and barbaric. Hamas had unleashed unspeakable violence upon our people.
The Hebrew word for “violence” in Genesis 6:11 is חָמָס (hamas), a chilling echo that has taken on flesh in our own generation:
Now the earth was corrupt in the sight of God, and the earth was filled with violence.
The same word, the same spirit, alive again in our days. It is not coincidence - it is a reminder that Scripture speaks not only of what was, but of what is and what will be.
Noah lived in a world drowning in evil, corruption, and cruelty. God instructed him to build an ark, an act of obedience that would preserve life in the midst of judgment. Two years later, I understand Noah’s story not as distant history, but as a mirror. Like Noah, we were thrust into a storm not of our choosing. And like him, we had to decide whether to despair or to build.
When the floodwaters rose, Noah entered the ark with his family, the few who would carry God’s promise forward. I imagine he must have felt both gratitude and grief, grateful to be spared yet mourning the world he lost. That tension, between thankfulness and sorrow, has become the rhythm of life in Israel ever since. We rebuild, we grieve, and we refuse to lose hope.
People still ask me, “Moran, how are you?” My answer hasn’t changed: “I am alive, and I press on.” I press on because I know that God is still writing His story. I press on because, like Noah, I have people entrusted to my care - my family, our youth, our soldiers, our communities. I press on because I believe that the same God who preserved Noah through the storm will bring redemption after it. And I press on because I believe that even when the world shakes, the covenant of peace remains unbroken.
In our Haftarah this week, God speaks words that carry both ancient and present comfort:
“For this is like the days of Noah to Me, when I swore that the waters of Noah would not flood the earth again; so I have sworn that I will not be angry with you nor rebuke you. For the mountains may be removed and the hills may shake, but My grace will not be removed from you, nor will My covenant of peace be shaken,” says the LORD who has compassion on you. Isaiah 54:9–10
We have walked through fire, and we are still here.
Two years later, we still stand in that promise. Yes, the storm came. Yes, the world changed overnight. But the God who sustained Noah is the same God who sustains Israel today. He is not finished with His people. His covenant still stands, His compassion still gathers, and His grace still restores.
May our eyes and the eyes of this world be opened to see the faithfulness of the One who calms every storm. Because even when the flood rises, His covenant remains.
And when the storm finally passes, may the rainbow remind us , not only of what we survived, but of the covenant that endures.
Shabbat Shalom,
Moran

