Sunday, October 18, 2009

Noah's Vineyard

"Noah began to be a master of the soil, and he planted a vineyard." (Gen. 9:20)

Noah stepped onto dry land with a vision. The world had been washed clean, and here was his moment. The first great act of renewed mankind. The question was: what to do first? 

Noah, righteous man that he was, pondered this dilemma at length. And then, at last, he found his answer:

Wine.

Yes, wine! Was it not wine that brought joy to the heart of man? Was it not a symbol of celebration, a taste of something higher? And so, Noah rolled up his sleeves and got to work.

The Midrash tells us that he wasted no time. In one day—one single, eventful day—Noah planted the vineyard, harvested the grapes, pressed them, fermented the juice (in record speed, mind you), drank the wine, and promptly lost all sense of dignity. A lesser man might have spread this catastrophe over the course of a few months. Noah accomplished his triumph and his downfall with breathtaking efficiency.

The Tzaddik's Blessing

There was once a man who travelled to the home of a great tzaddik, a saintly man known for his powerful and efficacious blessings. 

“Rebbe, give me a blessing!” he asked. 

“May it be,” the tzaddik intoned, “that the very first act you do upon returning home will be blessed and successful.”

The man was thrilled. What an opportunity! But how to best utilize this wonderful blessing?

After careful thought, he decided: as soon as he walked through his front door, he would immediately count his money. That way, the tzaddik’s blessing would rest upon his wealth. Clever, no?

Brimming with anticipation, he went home. As he crossed the threshold, he called out: “Wife! My purse, quickly!”

His wife was puzzled. “Why?” she asked.

“Just bring it to me!” he snapped, growing impatient.

“What’s this sudden obsession with your purse? Don’t you trust me?”

Fearing that her husband was no longer in his right mind, she refused to bring him the purse. Angry and frustrated, the husband began to berate her. The argument quickly became hot and vociferous.

In this unfortunate way, the tzaddik's blessing was fulfilled. The first act that the man did upon entering his home—fighting with his wife—quickly escalated into a spectacularly successful domestic spat.

Noah's First Act

After the Flood, an extraordinary measure of Divine compassion filled the world, ensuring its renewal. "I will no longer curse the land," God promised. Naturally, Noah's first effort at rebuilding the world after the Flood would be blessed and unusually successful.

Noah's first act, however, was to plant a vineyard. Sure enough, Noah had great success in this endeavor. As the Midrash states, "On the same day, Noah planted the vineyard, drank the wine, and was disgraced."

The Sages criticized Noah for choosing wine as his very first crop. Could he not have planted something more useful? Where were his priorities? 

They noted that the text uses the word va-yachel ("he began") in describing his planting of a vineyard. By starting with this project, Noah made himself unholy—chullin—leading to his disgrace and humiliation.

The Sabbath Blessing

The story of Noah's vineyard is a lesson about how our actions set the tone for what follows. 

Shabbat, the Sages say, is the wellspring of blessing for the entire week. As the Zohar teaches: “All blessings from Above depend on the seventh day.” 

Just as Noah’s first act shaped his future, so, too, our actions on the Shabbat influence the days that follow. If we fill Shabbat with meaning—with study and prayer, with song and holiness—then the entire week is infused with its blessing. But if we squander Shabbat on trivialities, if we let it pass in idleness or mindless diversions, then come Sunday, we will find ourselves spiritually impoverished.

Shabbat is, in essence, a weekly Noah moment. The world is reset. We step onto the fresh shores of a new week, and we must decide: what will we plant first?

(Mishlei Ya'akov, pp. 27-28)