Schansberg: ‘Greatness’ — a Biblical Perspective
by Eric Schansberg, Ph.D.
Noah is repeatedly commended for his righteousness, and then for building the Ark in obedience. Not only does he save his family and pairs of each animal, more broadly he saves “mankind” and the animal kingdom — in what turns out to be a fresh start, a new beginning, another opportunity for man to get it right in terms of dominion, multiplying and fruitfulness.
But there are problems with Noah as well. The most obvious is his drunkenness after the Flood. (Maybe he had PFSD [Post-Flood Stress Disorder].) Can you imagine what it would have been like to build the Ark around your neighbors, when they may have never experienced rain; to experience the Flood in the Ark with all of those animals; to see the staggering carnage afterwards; to bear such responsibility before and after the Flood; and to be alone on the Earth with your family afterwards?
Was the drunkenness a one-time slip or a recurring problem? Maybe he didn’t know the wine’s potency or just took his drinking too far. Perhaps he struggled with all of his newfound spare time. In any case, this moment robs him of some dignity and authority. The responses of his sons are noteworthy; Ham is certainly a mess, but the other two respond admirably. Noah’s response to Ham seems over-the-top, but perhaps we should imagine a larger context when we see his glee at Noah’s stumble. Surely this was in keeping with Ham’s (lack of) character. Cain had asked about being his brother’s keeper; here, Ham fails to be his father’s keeper.
But there is another less-obvious problem. Notice the command to get on the Ark in the old world’s style (6:18). As such, Noah gets on the Ark men first and women second (7:7,13). But God commands him to get off the Ark in a different order: Noah, then his wife, and then his sons with their wives (8:16). In other words, God wants his wife elevated over his sons — a repudiation of “the man’s world” prior to the Flood. But look how Noah gets off the Ark (8:18). He disobeys God, but perhaps more important, he doesn’t understand what God is trying to do — a sign that this approach to dealing with humans is not going to work well. Starting fresh with the best man available out of a man’s world is not as promising as one might hope.
Noah is in the pantheon of Biblical paragons. As Christians, we’re used to seeing these heroes as largely interchangeable. But he is not a top-tier hero for Jews. Why? To the Jewish mind (and a careful reading of the Old Testament), Abraham, Moses and David stand out above the rest. In particular, why is Abraham considered so much greater than Noah?
When it’s time to build the Ark and save his family — unlike Abraham in Genesis 18 — there was no intervention by Noah with the Lord on behalf of those to be destroyed. Abraham argued with the Lord on behalf of strangers, while Noah didn’t even advocate for his neighbors. Adam’s troubles with silence and sins of omission echo in Noah’s story. In a word, Noah stayed dry, but Abraham got his hands dirty.
Where Noah stands out in a nasty world, Abraham will show much more: the courage to leave behind his life in Babylon and go to an unknown land; God blessing him so he can be a blessing to others; his repeated interactions with the world (albeit with mixed results); his amazing hospitality with Lot and the angels; using his 318 trained men responsibly; his willingness to advocate for strangers with God; and his willingness to sacrifice Isaac rather than argue with God about what looks like his own family’s preservation.
Putting it another way, God doesn’t want us to be a thermometer, adapting to the room we’ve entered. And when change is possible, he doesn’t want us to leave a room that is too hot or cold for something more comfortable. He wants us to be a thermostat — able to change the temperature of the room. It’s not enough to be nice in a cold room; it’s not ideal to flee a hot room. It’s not sufficient to stay above the waters and survive the Judgment of the Flood. God wants us to make a difference in this world.
At least in worldly terms, political greatness is defined by effective and ethical responses to crises or significant challenges. Think of Winston Churchill in World War II. Or Lincoln and Washington in early American history. Among American presidents who started serving within the last century, only Ronald Reagan rises to this level. (Many people would put FDR on the list, but his record on civil liberties was troubling (see: David Beito’s The New Deal’s War on the Bill of Rights); he didn’t honor Jesse Owens after the 1936 Berlin Olympics; and his economic policies were abysmal. In the 6th year of the New Deal, the unemployment rate was still 19 percent.)
Reagan dealt with the worst economy since the Great Depression, the “malaise” of the country during the Carter years, and the Soviet threat during the Cold War. Reagan’s economic policies were impressive; the country returned to optimism; and his military policies led to the break-up of the USSR soon after he left office. Amazing for our times: Reagan worked with Tip O’Neill and a strongly Democratic House to accomplish these results. And unbelievable for our times: Reagan won 49 of 50 states in his 1984 re-election bid. (Reagan lost Minnesota — the home state of his opponent Walter Mondale — by only a few thousand votes.) Vision, policy, execution and leadership — a phenomenal combination.
In Biblical terms, greatness is often recorded with the same criteria through the direct and indirect help of God. Moses leading the people out of Egypt and through the Wilderness to the verge of the Promised Land. Joshua and Caleb’s faith as spies to Canaan, their courage with the rebellious people, and a generation later, their leadership across the Jordan. Daniel’s early days of training and his faithful, effective work for government within exile. Mordecai’s tenacity in standing against Haman and his ingenuity in working with Esther. Nehemiah overcoming obstacles to rebuild the wall in Jerusalem. Peter’s leadership among the disciples and then in the Early Church. Paul’s perseverance through staggering trials and his work in evangelism, church planting, and discipleship.
But other times, the greatness of people in the Bible is too small to be measured in worldly historical terms: the courage of Rahab, the initiative of Ehud, the loyalty of Ruth, the charity of Boaz, the prayers of Hannah, the perseverance of Jeremiah, the grace of Hosea, the resolution of Habakkuk, the invitations of Andrew, the faith of the Centurion, the tenacity of the Canaanite woman, the repentance of Zacchaeus, the martyrdom of Stephen, the leadership of Titus.
The big characters in history and the Bible impress me. But the biblical “little people” inspire me and give me hope that I can be great in the little things of God’s Kingdom. My dad was a great man of this sort. My parents separated after 17 years of marriage, divorcing six years later. Mom could be a handful and Dad was a good guy, but that wasn’t sufficient to make the marriage work. Some good news for me and my two siblings: We learned that being a good guy wasn’t good enough to handle challenging people and tough circumstances.
Dad stayed in touch and usually got along well enough with Mom. Many years later, they started dating again and remarried 23 years after their separation. In the meantime, he had become a disciple of Jesus. Their oldest grandchildren were five years old — when conversations and holidays would have started to get really awkward. When they put things back together, the only divorce we’ve had in our family was healed. Their marriage still struggled, but it was much better the second time. Dad could have gone other directions, but he pursued Mom instead. Dad was a hero — and the sort of hero that all of us can be. Dad moved our world—and as a result, he moved the world.
D. Eric Schansberg is Professor of Economics at Indiana University Southeast, the author of “Poor Policy: How Government Harms the Poor,” and an adjunct scholar of the Indiana Policy Review.
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