I wonder what the experience was like for Noah, whose story we read in this week’s parashah. Noah endured the tremendous difficulty of a world destroyed before his very eyes. He floated on choppy waters in his Ark, safe with his family, as he knew the rest of humanity wasn’t so lucky. The rains ceased and the Ark stopped, birds were sent away to find dry land, an olive branch arrives.
Finally, God told Noah that a rainbow was in the sky to remind Noah and his family, and all of his descendents, about the covenant that God was creating with him. I wonder if Noah saw the rainbow before God told him to look. And before God told Noah what the rainbow was for and what its symbolism meant, I wonder if Noah was able to draw any meaning from it. Because that rainbow serves as a promise. It’s a symbol of hope and future-oriented vision. It’s a reminder that the difficulty of the past need not define the present or the future. That rainbow only has the power to alter Noah’s consciousness if he allows it to do so, if he is able to look at the colors in the sky and say to himself, “the future will look different,” and believe it.
I’ve taught before about 10 things the Mishna tells us were created at twilight during the first week of Creation - things that had to be created before Creation was over, just under the wire before the first Shabbat, when God rested. The rainbow, as you might imagine, is on that list. The rainbow, the symbol of hope and covenant, is built into the fabric of the world; it had to exist before the world was set into motion. But I think this Mishna is telling us something more profound than just the origins of that first rainbow. It’s teaching us that the things we need to find hope, the things we need to feel OK about the future, are built into the world.
Noah didn’t know to look for the rainbow, and he wouldn’t have had any idea what the rainbow was supposed to mean before God told him. But it was there, and while it might not be visible at all times, it’s always in the world, always possible. And more than that, the meaning that it offers is always available to us. We are sometimes Noah, looking for symbols of hope and meaning and future-oriented vision, but not sure what they are or where to find them.
Our tradition tells us to say a particular blessing upon seeing a rainbow, declaring God as One who remembers the covenant and keeps God’s promise. Marking a rainbow with a blessing reminds us that the very act of finding hope, of being able to look to the future, is sacred. It’s not necessarily easy and it might not happen every day. But those symbols are there for us. When the waters seem high we can continue to look out of our windows. But we must remember that Noah didn’t know what he was looking for; it wasn’t necessarily obvious what would guide him to remember God’s promise and the belief in the future. But it was there. It was always there. It was built into Creation from the very beginning. It was woven into the fabric of the world for Noah, and I believe it’s woven into that fabric for us as well.
May we continue to see rainbows. May we continue to find the symbols of hope in our time. And may we continue to mark these moments as profound, sacred, and worthy of blessing.
