*Mild spoiler for Harry Potter and the Chamber of Secrets*
Tonight, as we do almost every night, Zoey and I continued our reading through of the Harry Potter series. We are currently in the last third of “Harry Potter and the Chamber of Secrets”.
There is a part, as the tension builds and leads up to the pinnacle of book, where the students of Hogwarts are being given instructions regarding their safety. At this point in the story, a “monster” that was only slightly problematic at the start of the book, has now become very problematic -sort of an epidemic, you might say.
As I was reading through these instructions in a very poor imitation of an English accent, something struck me about them that felt eerily prescient. These instructions included nightly curfews, limited range of movement outside their dormitories, cancellation of sporting events (Quidditch) and constant monitoring by teachers.
Although not as strict as current and past COVID-19 lockdowns that we (all) have experienced, there was something triggering about noticing similar patterns of reticence amongst the Hogwarts students to their teachers’ attempts to protect them, as we experience today regarding our own situation. Now, the Hogwarts staff had the unfortunate task of protecting the students from an unknown beast that had apparently been lurking in the castle for over five decades — and even with all their magic, they were woefully unprepared. We muggles, on the other hand, are globally fighting a monster that has already killed millions, continues to shift shapes, and makes life uncertain on a day to day basis.
I am not speculating whether witches and wizards might handle this better than all of us — although the healing spells would likely come in very handy. I am rather pausing momentarily where the students are told that their lives will now have significant restrictions placed upon them — so that they aren’t attacked by a monster and killed.
That sounds a bit familiar, doesn’t it?
Of course it does, because it is exactly what happened in Parashat Noach!
At a particularly wicked time in human history, G-d comes to Noach -arguably either fully righteous or the least wicked man on Earth depending which Rabbi you ask — and tells him to build an Ark. In this Ark, he and his family, and two of every animal will float around until every other living being has perished, and the world may start anew. We are going to gloss over the fact that Noach likely didn’t just agree immediately to be the last man standing, and focus in on a conversation likely had leading up to the flood.
In the Pirkei De Rabbi Eliezer, an aggadic/midrashic complement to the Torah, which contains critical interpretation and retellings of Biblical stories, we get a glimpse of what might have transpired conversationally between Noach and the wicked folks. Noach tells them of the coming flood, warns them of their impending doom, and pleads with them to repent. It seems that at first, they do, or at least try to, but then they cannot, and they go back to their ways. (PDRE 22;9). Then, still believing that perhaps they would glean something from his preparations, he stalled for 52 years (or 5 depending whom you ask) in building the Ark, so that they might have time to repent. Did they? No, they did not. (PDRE 23:3).
So, what happened?
כֹּל אֲשֶׁר נִשְׁמַת־רוּחַ חַיִּים בְּאַפָּיו מִכֹּל אֲשֶׁר בֶּחָרָבָה מֵתוּ׃
All in whose nostrils was the merest breath of life, all that was on dry land, died.
(Bereshit 7:22)
In perhaps one of the most depressing and terrifying sentences in all of P’shat, there it is. Those who did not heed the warnings — died.
In Harry Potter and the Chamber of Secrets, *spoiler alert*, Harry Potter and his friends manage to defeat the beast and save the day. This beast — as are the major antagonists of the series — are derivations of an evil so great that people fear its name. Every day heroes rising up against evil that threatens us is the basic trope of the whole series, but with each of the books, the characters suffer more and more meaningful loss — even when they win. In Parshat Noach — everyday hero, Noach, does technically save humanity, but he does so at tremendous cost — both to the global population, and to himself. By the time he reaches the end of his days, Noach is a whisper of the man he was, depleted by the immense weight of his destiny.
Where does that bring us to? It brings us to today — with most of the world still in limbo, with many unknowns, tremendous fear and inequity, and immeasurable loss across the board. I believe, because I am — despite it all — a cautious optimist — that we will make it through this test of our humanity as well. Yet, my question remains — to what degree will we lose ourselves before we emerge? How much will we sacrifice to defeat the danger that cannot be named — but has so many names.
An unexpected lesson from Parshat Noach, and I guess, from Harry Potter, is that we rarely know what is currently present in our lives that might save us. We often, with years or decades of life lived, can pinpoint a moment, person, or decision that became a vehicle for change in our lives. At 60, we can see the moment where, at 20 — we grew — but we don’t see it then. I posit that we are not seeing now what exists in the world that can save us. It isn’t going to be Noach, or Harry, or Wonder Woman — it’s going to be us, each and every one of us working together. It pains me to see how many ways we destroy each other — even subtly. We break relationships out of misunderstanding. We hold on to people who want to be let go of. We make ourselves believe we are not worthy of love. We make people feel badly about their choices in self care — people we, ironically, really care about. We kick and scream against measures that are trying to keep us safe. Where is it getting us? Not much of anywhere. I think that if we each pick up a piece of wood, a nail, a hammer — if we each can offer a helping hand — then maybe, just maybe, we can all get on the next Ark.
