L'Chaim

                                                                   B"H

I will not finish this essay today, as it is a complex topic that is difficult to convey for many reasons. One major reason is my expectation of resistance to the idea that was once fundamental to the majority of our people—the value of human life, the existence of each individual.

Today is a significant day on my personal calendar. For many years, I have been deeply involved with the topic of Noah’s Mabul (Flood). B"H, I have spent extensive time conducting geological research in the western deserts, mountain trails, and Alaskan glaciers. My personal discoveries on this subject are valuable, and I believe, with further development by specialists, they may alter some scientific perspectives.

Thus, the Mabul has become very personal to me. I don’t know anyone else in the Orthodox world with comparable work in this area. However, in this essay, I will not focus on the “natural” aspects of the Mabul but will instead explore the moral reason behind this catastrophic event and the extinction that followed.

Today marks the second day of Chanukah, the 25th of Kislev, the anniversary of the last day of the 40 days of unprecedented rain during the Mabul. The Torah tells us:

"וַיֹּ֨אמֶר אֱלֹהִ֜ים לְנֹ֗חַ קֵ֤ץ כׇּל־בָּשָׂר֙ בָּ֣א לְפָנַ֔י כִּֽי־מָלְאָ֥ה הָאָ֛רֶץ חָמָ֖ס מִפְּנֵיהֶ֑ם וְהִנְנִ֥י מַשְׁחִיתָ֖ם אֶת־הָאָֽרֶץ׃
"The end of all flesh has come before me, for the earth is filled with violence because of them; and I will destroy them from the earth."

Rav Dessler notes that Onkelos translates the word חָמָס (violence) as "snatching, grasping, seizing." In Rav Dessler's words, it is the "power of taking." This could be likened to legislation that allows a self-appointed “superior” class to direct the fruits of the working class into their own pockets and stock portfolios. However, this essay is not about the injustices of capitalism. Rather, we will explore why taking something that rightfully belongs to another is a form of killing.

In our reality, we operate on the principle of Midah Keneged Midah—measure for measure. The annihilation of humanity in the Mabul would be a disproportionate consequence (punishment) if taking material advantage from the underprivileged were not considered a form of taking someone's life.

Our work, the products of our hands, express our being. The fruits of our labor are an extension of ourselves. This is why Halachic principles of monetary reparations exist, even for injuries or death. In my previous essay, I discussed the prohibition against terminating human life. Outside of Halacha, it is completely prohibited. For centuries, this framework has not been part of our immediate reality, but it remains fundamental. For those who prefer simplicity—killing is prohibited, both for Jews and non-Jews.

Jewish commentators explain that even harsh behavior, language, or public shaming can be considered a form of killing. For more on this, see my essay on the Prohibition of Killing.

As we have already established, any form of stealing can also be seen as a form of taking a person's life. Sometimes, the theft is literal—taking someone's possessions can lead to their literal death. Denying justice or failing to provide necessary sustenance to someone unable to care for themselves is also a form of killing.

This point should not need further explanation. However, to illustrate it: if you were to deny a person a transplant—such as a heart—you would be participating in their death. If you think that is not so, it may be that you need such a transplant. A pig’s heart would suffice, at least it's flesh.

But why? Why is human life of such superior value?

Because G-d says so.

For some, this might be enough, but it has been over 4,100 years since G-d proclaimed to mankind the prohibition against killing. And yet, not only does mankind fail to heed this divine command, but we also allow psychopathic leaders to emerge—leaders who devalue human life. Worse still, entire economies thrive by manufacturing and selling tools of destruction and death.

Governments that claim to operate "by the people, for the people" sometimes prove to be little more than merchants of death, publicly boasting of their success in selling arms mass-produced by private companies. In many cases, these weapons are funded by the taxes of ordinary citizens.

The same individuals who campaign for our votes every few years to legitimize their positions—who, once elected, begin searching for new cash flows to fund their next bids—are complicit in the perpetuation of violence. Meanwhile, entire societies, at best, remain indifferent or, at worst, actively support the killing that happens around them.

"I can’t do anything, I’m too small." This cry of helplessness is familiar to me. But others say, "It’s war." In other words, wholesale killing somehow makes it more acceptable than individual killing. A poet might say, "When fighting the Devil, killing is good." But this reasoning fails to recognize the value of each individual life.

We are not all total monsters. There are examples where concern is expressed over the psychological toll of mass killing—where soldiers suffer from the trauma of killing babies. Himmler, Y-SH, had to personally address the Einsatzgruppen, explaining why they had to kill Jewish children—children who, he claimed, would grow up to oppress them. In other wars, soldiers were provided with means to release the psychological tension created by the violence they inflicted in form of female cuspidors. Some others, in recent massacres, became so affected by their actions that they turned to vegetarianism, unable to stomach the "human meat" they had been forced to create under the tracks of their tanks and bulldozers.

This is the world we live in.

I will not delve further into these examples, as I know the questions that will arise: What about the Nazis? What about the Communist regimes? What about those who claim to fight "for a greater cause"? Yes, these questions carry weight. But we will leave them for another discussion.

Here, I want to emphasize why the value of human life is superior to all else in this reality, and why its termination can only be justified under extraordinary circumstances. Historically, the Court of Law (Bais Din) with proper smicha (authority) was part of this reality and life could be ended only by the decision of Bais Din.

Why is human life of such value?

G-d created man and the universe as His home, to bestow love and give. There was no necessity for creation, but there was a possibility, as Rav Dessler explains. The essential aspect of man’s creation was free will—a gift that reflects the Creator’s own freedom.

There is, of course, a profound difference between the free will of the Omnipotent Creator and the limited, confused will of man. Nevertheless, Adam knew the truth at the beginning, and his potential for error was a choice of illusion. With his choice, humanity descended into confusion, where the possibility of a wrongdoing emerged.

Humanity could have been annihilated at that point, but the Creator offered another path—a path to rectify the relationship with Him. By rejecting wrong and choosing doing right, mankind could find the path to truth, as Ramchal writes in Derech Hashem.

The story of mankind has not been a simple one. After 1,656 years, the world had to be "remodeled," and humanity was given a new start. The emergence of Avraham marked a new possibility—one that began to shape a community of ethical monotheists. But it was only his seed who eventually became the spiritual leaders of humanity. But even though this journey was not about them alone, it was always about all of mankind.

Rav Shimshon Raphael Hirsch explains that humanity's plural nature, as represented by the 70 nations, brings collective characteristics that contribute to the advancement of human civilization. Rav Dessler discusses the beauty and necessity of every individual’s presence. The Ramchal in Derech Hashem explains the path humanity must take to regain moral awareness of the Creator.

Three times a day, we say the prayer "Aleinu." If your Hebrew is insufficient, please refer to a translation. This prayer has always been about mankind and us humbly serving humanity by shining the light on the path to truth. This is what makes us Am HaNivchar.

Without a doubt, leaders have a different level of spiritual achievement than those who are led. But each individual builds their own level of spiritual accomplishment. Every person is born into this world with a set of moral choices. This is the reason for our existence. (Derech Hashem, Mivtach mi Eliayhu)

Taking away that life—whether through murder, suicide, kidnapping, enslavement, abuse, conquer, control, mental control, lies, manipulation, propaganda or any other means—cuts off or limits a person’s free will. These are the "kley hamas - tools of violence," tools and domain of Eisav.

This is only a short list of tools interfering with the goal of Creator of making every human being in His image, as explained above. Doing, participating or supporting any of those actions makes us immediately enemies of G-d.

Now.

Supporting life, freedom, the dignity of every individual, the value of every individual, restraining from turning human being into tools of pleasure or tools in general, standing always for truth is our most important religious act. These are the principles of Yaakov. If any other so-called religious acts compromise these principles, we are serving our ego, not G-d. In such cases, we are consuming proverbial opium to calm our conscience. We may be part of religion, but we have no true relationship with G-d. That relationship can only be developed by extending love to our fellow human beings, as both Buber and Rav Dessler have taught.

If the cost of our service to G-d involves committing a crime against any human—whether directly or indirectly—we must carefully examine our paths. The same holds true if we are using others as mere tools for our religious experience; in that case, our actions are motivated by self-interest, not by a true relationship with G-d or a genuine concern for our fellow man.

None of the ideas presented in this essay are my own. They are the result of my deep engagement with the writings of Jewish prophets and sages, B’H.

To those who may point out that this essay does not align with Halachah, particularly in terms of its high moral standards, I say this: Without a doubt, we are all required to follow the Halachic framework. However, we must also understand that the purpose of Halachah is not simply to limit us, but to provide a platform that allows us to rise and achieve greater moral and spiritual heights.

Our adherence to Halachah shapes us as a nation, and following its Hashkafah (philosophical principles) makes us a holy people.