top of page
Search

Leave the door open

We’ve all been there. Your basement starts leaking during a storm. You rush to move boxes, grab towels, set up a fan, doing whatever you can to keep the water out. It’s stressful, but you’re focused: protect the house, protect the family.


Then you notice your neighbor’s basement light is still on, and water is pouring into his place too. You hesitate; you’ve got your own mess to deal with. But deep down, you know that you can’t just worry about your own home when the guy next door is drowning.


That’s the story of Noah.


The Torah tells us, in great detail, how Noah built the ark; how big it was, what kind of wood he used, and how it took him 120 years to build. You’d think that’s a lot of time to spend hammering and sawing. Couldn’t he have hired help? After all, he was a respected man, with family and students.


But G-d told him, “Make for yourself an ark.” Those words were specific. The ark wasn’t just a physical project, it was personal work. G-d wanted Noah to grow through it. Every piece of wood he cut, every beam he placed, was shaping him on the inside too.


We all have our own “ark” to build, something we’re responsible for that no one else can do for us. Maybe it’s raising our kids to be kind, maybe it’s repairing a strained relationship, maybe it’s building emotional or spiritual strength when life feels overwhelming. The point is, your growth can’t be subcontracted. No one else can do your inner work.


But here’s where the story takes a turn. For 120 years, Noah warned people that a flood was coming. He told them to change, to live better, to care more. But no one listened. Eventually, he gave up. He finished his ark, brought in his family and the animals, and shut the door.


And that’s where Noah fell short. He saved himself, but not his world.


Later in the Torah, we meet Abraham, who begged G-d to spare the people of Sodom, and Moses, who was willing to be erased from the Torah if G-d wouldn’t forgive the Jewish people. They couldn’t just stand by. They felt the pain of others as their own.


Noah was righteous, but he didn’t fight for anyone else. And that’s something we’re all challenged by today.


It’s easy to retreat into our own bubble. Between the news, social media, and daily stresses, the world can feel like a flood of negativity. The instinct is to shut the door, protect your peace, and focus on your own survival. But Judaism asks more of us. We’re meant to build our ark, and still keep the door open.


If Noah had kept reaching out, the sages say, maybe the flood wouldn’t have happened at all. One person’s care, one person’s voice, one person’s prayer can change the entire story.


And here’s a hopeful note: inside the ark, for a whole year, lions and lambs, wolves and goats, all lived together peacefully. No one hurt anyone. That’s a glimpse of the world we’re trying to build, one where people stop tearing each other apart and start standing up for one another.


So yes, build your ark. Strengthen yourself, your home, your family. But don’t forget the neighbor whose basement is still flooding. The real test isn’t just how well you protect your world, it’s how many others you help keep afloat.

 
 
 

Recent Posts

See All
Just the beginning

There are few sights more powerful than a homecoming. Parents finally holding their children after years of captivity. Families who refused to give up hope, even when the world seemed dark. These mome

 
 
 
The hostages are home. Now what?

As we approach Simchat Torah this year, my heart feels like a mosaic of emotions—joy, grief, gratitude, fear, and hope—all at once. I think many of us feel that way right now. On one hand, there is th

 
 
 
Oh Joy

There’s something about joy that’s contagious. Think about the last time you saw someone really, genuinely happy; not just smiling...

 
 
 

Comments


Subscribe to our mailing list and never miss an update

© 2025 All Rights Reserved By Chabad-Lubavitch of Northwest Indiana 

bottom of page