Corrupt and Wrong

Why did G-d destroy the world with a flood? We don’t have to look very hard because the Torah tells us explicitly:

The earth was corrupt before G-d and the earth was filled with wrongdoing. Hashem saw the earth, and, behold, it was corrupt, for all flesh had corrupted its way on the earth. (Bereishis 6:11-12)

We can discern two primary insights from this pair of verses. First, that the world needed to be destroyed for two broad categories of reasons: “Corruption” and “wrongdoing.” Second, the corruption seems to be more of a significant issue, as the word for it – nishchat in one form or another – comes up three times in this couplet while wrongdoing, chamas, comes up only once. While this latter word is coincidentally a homophone for the contemporary terrorist group – may their names and memories be blotted out – I do not intend to focus on them here. Rather, it is my goal to try and understand something very strange that arises from the following analysis.

Though “corruption” seems to be the bigger issue since it is highlighted so many times. The Torah does not tell us exactly what that corruption before G-d was. Rashi, following the Gemara, and others as well suggest that it refers to sexual perversion of one kind or another. Ramban raises the idea that perhaps the corruption was in a broader perversion of nature: birds were tearing prey apart like wild animals and wild animals were snatching each other like birds. Indeed, whatever corruption refers to, it seems to refer to some kind of fundamental breakdown in order, something rotten at the core.

In contrast, chamas is taken most often to refer to interpersonal ethical breaches such as in finances, whether major or minor. So, we find that it can be understood to refer to stealing broadly (Rashi), stealing and oppression (Ramban) or just stealing in small, non-prosecutable amounts (Chizkuni). So, corruption – whether sexual perversion of nature or a broader perversion of nature – must have been the bigger issue. Indeed, we can see it as referring to a kind of upending of G-d’s desired order, so that His harmonious creation was being undermined. While stealing and other interpersonal sins are terrible, we can understand them as being less fundamentally disruptive to nature or G-d’s intentions as a whole. People who steal can stop and societies can eventually return to an ethical equilibrium. But corruption is a bit more like the reversal of gravity; a change of that kind might be more difficult to contend with because of the deeper issues it would introduce.

Yet, when G-d approached Noach to tell him of the impending doom and destruction of the world, He did not highlight the corruption that He saw. Instead, He emphasized the chamas, the wrongdoing or robbery. “Hashem said to Noach, ‘The end of all flesh has come before me because the earth is filled with wrongdoing (chamas) because of them, and I am about to destroy them with the earth’” (6:13).

This time, the only use of the word nishchat is G-d’s prospective plans. “I am about to destroy them” (hineni mashchitam). This is very strange, indeed. What happened to all of the corruption? What seemed to be an “add-on” before, wrongdoing on top of generally destructive corruption of nature, has now taken center stage. Why does Hashem shunt the corruption off to the side all of a sudden?

The Ramban addresses this problem:

“[Hashem] gave Noach the rationale of chamas, wrongdoing and did not mention the corruption of creation’s way. This is because stealing and oppression is the sin that is known and most recognized. And our Masters (Sanhedrin 108a) said it was because of it that the sentence was sealed against [the generation of the flood].

“And the reason for that is because it is a reasonable commandment and they had no need of a prophet to come and warn them. Additionally, it is bad both to Heaven and to people.”

In short, while corruption was more widespread and perhaps fundamental, the formal case against the generation of the flood was formulated on the basis of something they – and Noach, in particular – could understand: they were hurting each other. In other words, an objective assessment – given in the verses referring to what G-d saw – yielded the idea that corruption was the larger issue, the communication of the problem to Noach needed to focus on the issue he could better understand and relate to.

Indeed, then, corruption of G-d’s creation was the broader issue. But people did not have a natural sense that they were doing something wrong and they could only have bettered themselves if G-d had sent them a prophet to teach them. But they could and did understand that interpersonal wrongs – whether financial or violent – are sins without needing a prophet or a teacher to tell them as much. This is something people simply understand. So, when communicating to Noach, Hashem focused on something he was familiar with. Indeed, it would seem that while, on some objective Divine scale, there were more widespread issues of corruption, it was the stealing and the oppression that eventually sealed the fate of the generation of the flood. This was the sin they all knew about and did nothing to stop.

We ourselves are in a very interesting – and more ethically demanding – position than the generation of the flood. While they may have done all sorts of wrongs, they were held responsible only for the ones they could naturally intuit, such as the prohibition of murder. We, on the other hand, have been sent Moshe and many other prophets and so we are responsible for many things that we would not simply naturally think of.

However, this does not make life so simple. We still face not only temptation to sin but also a persistent lack of clarity in making our ethical decisions. And we need to remember. Not every sin is a simple ritual issue, black on white: do not eat ham, make sure to wear special clothing on Shabbat. Many issues remain amorphous, if no less important. And so, we must ask ourselves: what sins of commission and omission are we committing even though it is obvious that they are poor decisions for ourselves, our families, and our communities? What sins belong in the broader category of things that make sense, things we should just intuit?

Do we sin by not spending enough time with our children? Are we too harsh with them when we see them chafing or are we too soft on them when we see that they are capable of more? Do we sin if we are not sufficiently supportive of Jews and Israel against our many enemies because it is well known that people who do not defend themselves are bound to suffer and be destroyed? Do we sin when we are not sufficiently charitable in supporting our communal organizations and institutions that are necessary to develop our future as individuals and as a community? Is it a sin of this kind if we do not study enough Torah, pray enough, model mitzvah observance enough, because we know that when we take a pareve stance on Jewish living, we obviously make Jewish continuity harder and more of our children leave? Are we sinning when we do not bother to make sure that schools hire role models who stand for our communal values because this will obviously lead to students who are driven away from them?

How many obvious sins are we committing? And when will we stop?

This passage in the Torah highlights the necessity of taking our temperature, of stopping to check in with ourselves regarding our individual and communal choices. We are reminded of the internal voice that speaks to our needs and values, to what we can do, and even, we may suggest, as to how we will accomplish our goals as a community and as a people.