5) Genesis Five
This is the book of the generations of Adam. When God created man, he made him in the likeness of God. 2 Male and female he created them, and he blessed them and named them Man when they were created. 3 When Adam had lived 130 years, he fathered a son in his own likeness, after his image, and named him Seth. 4 The days of Adam after he fathered Seth were 800 years; and he had other sons and daughters. 5 Thus all the days that Adam lived were 930 years, and he died. 6 When Seth had lived 105 years, he fathered Enosh. 7 Seth lived after he fathered Enosh 807 years and had other sons and daughters. 8 Thus all the days of Seth were 912 years, and he died. 9 When Enosh had lived 90 years, he fathered Kenan. 10 Enosh lived after he fathered Kenan 815 years and had other sons and daughters. 11 Thus all the days of Enosh were 905 years, and he died. 12 When Kenan had lived 70 years, he fathered Mahalalel. 13 Kenan lived after he fathered Mahalalel 840 years and had other sons and daughters. 14 Thus all the days of Kenan were 910 years, and he died. 15 When Mahalalel had lived 65 years, he fathered Jared. 16 Mahalalel lived after he fathered Jared 830 years and had other sons and daughters. 17 Thus all the days of Mahalalel were 895 years, and he died. 18 When Jared had lived 162 years, he fathered Enoch. 19 Jared lived after he fathered Enoch 800 years and had other sons and daughters. 20 Thus all the days of Jared were 962 years, and he died. 21 When Enoch had lived 65 years, he fathered Methuselah. 22 Enoch walked with God after he fathered Methuselah 300 years and had other sons and daughters. 23 Thus all the days of Enoch were 365 years. 24 Enoch walked with God, and he was not, for God took him. 25 When Methuselah had lived 187 years, he fathered Lamech. 26 Methuselah lived after he fathered Lamech 782 years and had other sons and daughters. 27 Thus all the days of Methuselah were 969 years, and he died. 28 When Lamech had lived 182 years, he fathered a son 29 and called his name Noah, saying, “Out of the ground that the LORD has cursed, this one shall bring us relief from our work and from the painful toil of our hands.” 30 Lamech lived after he fathered Noah 595 years and had other sons and daughters. 31 Thus all the days of Lamech were 777 years, and he died. 32 After Noah was 500 years old, Noah fathered Shem, Ham, and Japheth. (Genesis 5, ESV Bible)
And he called his name Noah, saying, “Out of the ground that the LORD has cursed, this one shall bring us relief (comfort) from our work and from the painful toil of our hands.” (Genesis 5:29, ESV Bible)
The Meaning of Noah's Name and the Curse of the Ground
Lemech’s Declaration of Comfort
The Torah speaks of Noah’s name and offers us insight into its origin. Upon Noah’s birth, his father Lemech made a significant declaration and, in alignment with that proclamation, gave his son the name we now know. However, Lemech’s words carry a certain ambiguity that beckons further exploration. The connection to "comfort" in Noah’s name is found in the Hebrew letters nun (נ) and chet (ח), derived from the root nacham (נחם), meaning "to comfort." Somehow, Lemech perceives that this child will bring solace—not only to him personally but to humanity at large. Noah, in Lemech’s vision, will provide relief from the toil and suffering brought upon the world by the curse God placed on the ground. It is a name laden with prophetic weight, speaking of a future where Noah's presence would bring peace to a world burdened by divine judgment.
The Curse of the Ground
What is the curse of the ground that Lemech references? It seems clear that Lemech is thinking of the curses described in the early chapters of the Torah, specifically the stories of the Tree of Knowledge of Good and Evil and of Cain and Abel. In both stories, sin—eating the forbidden fruit and the murder of Abel—results in two main consequences. The first is alienation from God: after eating the forbidden fruit, Adam and Eve hide from God among the trees and are soon banished from His garden. Similarly, after Cain's sin, he feels condemned to a life of hiding from God.
The second consequence is alienation from the land itself. Adam is told that the land will no longer easily provide for him. Instead, he and Eve will have to toil for their sustenance: "In sadness will you eat of it all the days of your life" (Genesis 3:17). This curse seems to intensify in Cain’s era. Even if Cain works the land, he is told that it will no longer yield its full strength to him (Genesis 4:12). However, generations later, Lemech senses that change may be possible—that humanity might overcome this curse. He proclaims of Noah: "This one will comfort us from our work and from the sadness of our hands, which comes from the ground that the Lord has cursed" (Genesis 5:29).
God’s Declaration of Regret
If you begin with the naming of Noah and fast-forward just six verses in the Torah, you reach a much darker passage where God decides to destroy the world with a flood. Upon close inspection of God's decision to wipe out humanity, a remarkable parallel emerges: God's decision to destroy the world mirrors Lemech’s decision to name his son Noah. The text says:
"The Lord regretted that He had made man on the earth, and He was saddened to His heart. And the Lord said, 'I will wipe out man, whom I have created, from the face of the earth'" (Genesis 6:6-7).
Here, God's "regret" for having created man is expressed with the same Hebrew word used by Lemech when he spoke of Noah’s "comfort.” In Hebrew, both "comfort" and "regret" stem from the root nun-chet-mem (נחם)
You might think this is just an interesting coincidence—but it’s difficult to dismiss it as such. This similarity is not isolated; it’s one of many connections between Lemech’s declaration and God’s decision. It’s not just the root nun-chet-mem that echoes; other parts of God’s declaration do as well.
Rabbi Fohrman shows the broader correspondences in his book. Lemech had said of Noah:
"This one will comfort us from our work and from the sadness of our hands, which comes from the ground that the Lord has cursed." (Genesis 5:29)
Remarkably, all four key terms from Lemech’s statement—comfort, work, sadness, and ground—appear in God's decision to destroy the world. And not only do these words reappear, but they are repeated in the exact same order that Lemech used them. Let’s revisit God’s declaration, and you'll see...
Lemech's declaration is filled with hope for comfort and relief from the curse, while God’s declaration expresses regret, possibly indicating a reversal of that hope. What Lemech hoped for as comfort is now being reflected in God's regret. Lemech was talking about the sadness caused by the curse of the ground, while God, in His declaration, feels a deep emotional sorrow over mankind’s sin and corruption. Again, the repetition of this root in both declarations emphasizes a connection in the emotions at play—whether personal sorrow for Lemech or divine sorrow for God. The Hebrew verb עשה (ayin-shin-hey) means “to do” or “to make,” and it appears in both declarations. Lemech is referring to the toil of human labor, while God refers to His creation of humanity. The same root connects the human effort (which Lemech longs to find comfort from) with God’s creative act (which He now regrets). Both verses refer to the ground/earth using the same word, אדמה (adamah), highlighting the link between Lemech’s acknowledgment of the curse on the ground and God’s decision to wipe out humanity from the earth. The earth, which had been cursed because of Adam's sin, now plays a pivotal role in God’s judgment.
It almost feels as though God is echoing Lemech when He decides to destroy the world. But why? Why would God frame His decision to annihilate His creation using Lemech’s innocent hopes for his newborn son?
Rashi’s Insight: The Role of the Plow
Rabbi Fohrman offers a theory. This theory stems from a subtle comment made by Rashi—a seemingly simple observation—regarding Lemech’s declaration that Noah would bring "comfort." Rashi, quoting the sages of the Midrash, asks: How exactly would Noah bring comfort?
Rashi, referencing the Midrash, explains it this way:
Before Noah, humans didn’t have plowshares. Noah prepared these tools for them. [Midrash Tanchuma, Genesis 11].
According to the Sages, Lemech had a prophetic vision that Noah would invent the plow, which would bring comfort to mankind by alleviating the curse on the land.
The curse on the land meant that growing crops would no longer be easy. Thorns and thistles would infest the soil, making cultivation difficult. But the invention of the plow would offer relief—it would make farming more manageable. Humanity, now living in a post-plow world, would no longer feel the full sting of that curse. In that sense, the plow would bring comfort.
At first glance, this seems like an innocent and hopeful expectation from Lemech. However, Fohrman proposes that this hope became a pivotal moment—an inflection point. It was the straw that broke the camel’s back, triggering God’s decision to give up on the world as it was and start anew.
The Deeper Problem of Comfort
But why? Because there was something deeply misguided in this hope. Lemech, speaking on behalf of a frustrated humanity, saw the plow as the solution to the curse of the land—a tool that would provide the comfort they desperately sought. Yet, by placing their hope in a plow to solve their existential struggles, humanity was seeking comfort in the wrong place. If they truly believed that the plow could relieve them of the curse, then there was no real hope left for humanity. Why?
Let’s take a moment to consider the concept of "comfort." What exactly is it, and why do we seek it? More importantly, how do we attain it?
The True Nature of Comfort
Comfort serves as a balm for loss—if not a cure, then at least something that helps us soothe our wounds and continue moving forward. Coping with profound loss is never easy. Those who grieve often ask an impossible question: Why? How could this happen? And truthfully, there is no adequate answer. In the absence of an answer, the mourner is left to confront the simple, painful reality that it did happen. This may be why, in Hebrew, a mourner is called an avel. The word avel (אָבֵל) is spelled aleph-bet-lamed, which also spells aval (אָבַל), meaning "but" or "nevertheless." To be an avel—a mourner—is to embrace "nevertheless." Why did this happen? I don’t know. Nevertheless, it happened.
Comfort, then, represents a shift in perspective. Rather than striving to change a painful reality, we accept it and find a way to live with it. But it’s important to recognize that comfort isn’t the solution to all forms of suffering. Some difficulties aren’t meant to be accepted passively; they’re meant to push us, to prompt us to address the root causes and find solutions. I believe the hardship of the cursed land was that kind of difficulty—one that demanded action, not mere acceptance.
Consider this: Was the curse on the land merely a blind consequence, or did it serve a deeper, overarching purpose?
There’s a clue in the language God uses when imposing the curse. After humanity's first sin, God declares that humans will experience itzavon (עִצָּבוֹן) while working the land. This word is often translated as "toil," but it literally means "sadness." The verse says:
"In sadness you will eat from it all the days of your life" (Genesis 3:17).
When work is simply work, it’s not inherently sad. But when work becomes toil—when it could have been easier but is instead filled with hardship—there is something inherently sorrowful about it. That sadness reflects the futility in it, a recognition that things could have, and should have, been different.
The Purpose of the Curse
The curses following the episodes of the Tree of Knowledge and Cain’s murder of Abel created a kind of separation between humans and two significant "other beings": God and the land. One way we felt that distance was by hiding from God. Another was in the sadness that would accompany our labor. Our connection to the land would not be as smooth or intimate as it once was; our relationship with it would be marked by difficulty and frustration.
God and the land were both creators of man. God breathed life into Adam, giving him a soul, but He also formed his body from the dust of the earth. Naturally, there is a closeness, a sense of intimacy, between a creature and its creators. Yet, in the wake of these early sins, some of that intimacy was lost. A kind of distance emerged between humanity and its creators, and that was the essence of the curse. But why would God impose a curse that distances us from Him? Doesn’t He desire closeness with His creation?
Perhaps this feeling of alienation serves as a kind of spiritual "homing beacon." Being distanced from one's Creator is a source of sadness—emotionally and spiritually. Once, we were one with our Creator, and a part of us always yearns for a return to that closeness. The more distant we feel from God, the stronger that inner longing becomes. It pulls us to return, to come back home.
In this light, the curses may serve a higher purpose. They are not merely punishments, but reminders of how far we’ve drifted from God and the land. They awaken within us a desire to return. But to feel that longing, we must first experience the futility of toil and the sadness that comes with it. Only then can we understand our need to come back to our Creator.
Conclusion: Finding True Comfort
Ultimately, the story of Noah and the curse of the ground teaches us about the deeper nature of comfort. True comfort is not found in technological advancements or external solutions but in a restored relationship with God. The futility of toil and the sadness of labor were meant to drive humanity toward this reconciliation. Just as Noah’s name suggests comfort, so too does God’s regret remind us that comfort cannot come from human inventions alone. True peace and relief come from returning to our Creator and repairing the broken relationship that lies at the heart of human suffering.
References
This section is drawn from the teachings of Rabbi David Fohrman in Genesis: A Parsha Companion.