The unprecedented growth of science and technology which has become one of the chief characteristics of Western civilization, is today the subject of profound and trenchant criticism. The very success of technology threatens to become its undoing. Students of ecology now alarm us to the dangers that an unrestrained technology poses for the delicate balance of nature on which the survival of the biosphere depends. Ever since the publication of Rachel Carson’s "The Silent Spring," the public has become more and more concerned about the possible consequences of man’s unthinking interference in and disruption of the natural processes which make life possible on earth. Polluted air, dirty water, littered landscape, an environment contaminated with impurities from radioactive strontium to waste detergents—all of these place in jeopardy not only the quality of life, but the very survival of many or all species, including the human. Sheer necessity has caused ecology to emerge from its ivory tower of pure science to pronounce a great moral imperative incumbent upon all mankind—to curb its arrogant and mindless devastation of nature.The case for the ecological movement is obvious and beyond dispute. One point, of the many cogent ones made in the growing literature on the subject, is worth repeating here. Rene Dubos has reminded us that we still know precious little about pollution. Seventy percent of all the precipitate contaminants in urban air are still unidentified and, twenty to thirty years hence, those who are today below the age of three will undoubtedly show varying signs of chronic and permanent malfunction. Man is clever enough to conquer nature—and stupid enough to wreck it and thereby destroy himself.The Theologians’ MasochismUnfortunately, the ecology issue has itself inspired a new pollution problem—a fall-out of silliness in the theological environment. It has now become almost a dogma of the avant-garde cognoscenti, who only a short while ago were telling us…

We are honoured to publish the full text of The Rabbi Isaac Bernstein Memorial Lecture which was delivered on 19 October 1998 at the Finchley Synagogue, London by Rabbi Dr. Norman Lamm. Rabbi Lamm, President of Yeshiva University and its affiliated Rabbi Isaac Elchanan Theological Seminary (RIETS) since 1976, is the author of ten volumes, including Torah Umadda: The encounter of Religious Learning and Worldly Wisdom in the Jewish Tradition (London: Jason Aronson, 1990). His two most recent books are The Shema: Spirituality and Law in Judaism (Philadelphia: Jewish Publication Society, 1998) and The Religious Thought of Hasidism: Text and Commentary (Hoboken: Ktav, 1999). The founding editor of Tradition, he has edited some thirty volumes on Jewish themes and has been an ardent advocate of Modern Orthodoxy in the USA and throughout the world.This is a bitter-sweet occasion for me. It is bitter because it confirms for me psychologically what I already know rationally, namely, that Isaac Bernstein is no longer with us. And it is sweet because the memories are sweet and inspiring.Rabbi Bernstein was my successor at The Jewish Center in New York City. We became not only colleagues but firm friends. I was enchanted by his sparkling sense of humour, in awe of his range of knowledge and interests - from Torah, of course, to mathematics and opera - and I simply adored the man's dazzling personality. Because of this combination of talents - scholar, orator, wit, darshan -1 invited him to teach at our Stern College for Women, where he won a string of loyal students who speak of him with a reverence that survives to this day.One of his great strengths was his interpretation of the parashat hashavua, the biblical portion of the week. In deference to him, I shall present my theme as he would have done it - homiletically - by discoursing on this week's parashah, Noach, and that of last Shabbat, Bereshit.NoachThe great floods covered the face…

There is a certain pathos in the fate of Noah. He has survived the cataclysmic deluge, witnessed the vast destruction of the civilization that once flourished and now was no more, and managed to save his family. And now, at the end of his days, after a life of suffering and heroism, he is disgraced by his youngest son Ham, who owed his life to him in more ways than one. The Torah mentions Ham’s leering comments when he finds his father exposed while in his drunken stupor. The Sages took this as a euphemism for a far more heinous act of filial betrayal. They were of two opinions in identifying the sin of Ham against his father—that it was homosexual rape or castration. But however one interprets the sin, it is a brutal case of humiliation of a father. Did Noah deserve such a bitter end to his dramatic life? Was there any justice to the events that befell him? I believe the answer is yes, if we view it in context rather than as an isolated incident. When Noah was bom, his father Lamech called him נח because זה ינחמנו ממעשנו וחעצבון ידינו מן האדמה אשר אררה ה׳. He had great hopes for this boy, that he would restore the world to its pristine beauty and bounty. For ten generations—since the sin of Adam and Eve which resulted in the pain of childbirth and raising children and in the diminished capacity of the earth to bear fruit for man—human beings had labored under the curse and suffering had been their common lot. Now, Lamech hoped, this son would reverse the fate of mankind and would bring man closer to its Creator. He had great dreams for this youngster, dreams of consolation and solace for all the suffering that people had endured—and so he named him נח because ינחמנו, he would comfort and redeem his fellow humans. But Noah, despite his many virtues (איש צדיק היה), failed in this historic mission. He was supposed to bring succor and comfort to the world, but he neglected the world and tended to his own family. He was intended to be a redeemer and in the end was mere…