Naked Noah

The new quarter begins tomorrow, so I’ve been spending my day typing out last minute ideas, dreaming about first-day-of-class scenarios, tidying up the house, running laundry, and giving Harvard extra snuggles with hopes they will sustain him for the following weeks apart. It’s a bittersweet day.

And in terms of my reading, I stayed awake until 2 am last night, mixing it in with other tasks :)

After the flood, God makes His promise in the form of the rainbow, and then Noah drinks too much wine. He falls asleep naked, and one of his sons discovers him, and shames him; the other two sons walk in backwards to cover their father. It’s a bit odd that this is the first human story since Noah’s family has reached dry land again, but when I look closer, I see parallels to Adam and Eve that might be significant, or maybe I've lost it completely:

• Eve ate the fruit, and Noah drank the wine—despite the flood, there is still sin, even among the most “righteous”.
• Adam and Eve were ashamed of their nakedness, and Noah was too—despite the flood, humans still face the shame of their sin.
• But here comes the subtle difference. In the garden, God created coverings for man and woman; after the flood, Noah’s sons were the ones who covered him.

Is this the first time in the Biblical narrative when mankind has acted in a manner that so clearly echoes the actions of God? Is this the beginning of our journey to become more like Him?

There is a clear split between the son who acted dishonorably towards his father, and the two sons who gave him respect, knowing that Noah had sinned. And I can see now that the actions of these two sons hold more value than just serving to model parental respect. These sons had compassion for their father, and so they covered his shame just as God would have done. At some point along the way, maybe this point, maybe earlier, God’s invitation was accepted, and mankind joined Him in the work of healing and caring for His children. I can hear the voice of God each day—urging me to reach out my heart and my hands to His children, with compassion, no matter the role they have played in their own shame. Reminding me of how cruel it is to say, you made your own bed. Reminding me to forgive my friends and my enemies, and to cover them. Reminding me that sometimes I am the one who is naked and vulnerable and ashamed, in want of compassion. 

In my previous attempts at “finishing” the Bible, I’ve always been annoyed by this story of Noah’s sons. Are you kidding? Why does this matter? Why did the son who saw his naked father become the slave to his other brothers? Sure, he took nudity lightly and dishonored his dad a bit, but come on, is this really the lesson that I’m supposed to learn? How can I keep reading this book and pretend that I like it? I can have such a bad attitude about reading the Bible sometimes, and still, God listens to me rant, waits, leans in, pulls back the veil from my eyes, opens His heart, and starts pointing things out.

I feel lucky to be a part of this story. Tomorrow I will revel in the chances to be compassionate—as God is compassionate.