Who are the Bnei Noach?

Who are the Bnei Noach?

God said to Noah and his sons who were with him,

“And I will establish My covenant with you and your descendants.”

Genesis 9:8-9

Anyone who does not accept and observe the Noahide laws is called a "goy" or "outsider" in rabbinic literature.

In the Tanakh, the word " goy " simply means people or nation. Even Israel is called a goy several times: " Goy kadosh "—a holy nation (Shemot/Exodus 19:6). The word itself is therefore not negative. In later rabbinic literature, the word is sometimes used to designate someone who does not belong to Israel. Or, in a certain halachic context, someone who lives outside the covenant. In its original meaning, it is not a term of abuse.

The Rambam makes a distinction (in Hilchot Melachim 8:11).

There are three categories among the peoples:

1. Chasidei umot ha'olam: these are people from the nations who accept the Noachide laws because they were given by Hashem through Moshe.

2. Chachamim (wise ones): these are people who observe these laws out of rational conviction.

3. The people who do not accept or comply with them.

Sometimes, in a halachic context, someone who rejects the fundamental moral order is referred to as someone outside the moral community: an "outsider." This is a moral-theological category.

According to the Talmud (Sanhedrin 56–59), the seven Noahide laws constitute the minimum foundation for human civilization. Whoever rejects them entirely rejects the recognition of God, the sanctity of life, and righteousness as a standard. The rabbis are not speaking of lineage, but of one's position in relation to the moral order.

Today, the word " goy " is often perceived negatively. This is partly due to its historical use in a polemical context. But in halachic language, it is a technical term. The existence of the covenant gives rise to various categories of people: for example, the Jew, the Ger (proselyte), the Ben Noach, the Oved Avoda Zara, etc. These terms do not speak of the value of the person involved as a human being. They are covenant categories. After all, the Torah teaches: "Beloved is man, for he is created in the image of God" (Pirkei Avot 3:14), and this applies to every human being.

According to Rambam, a distinction can be made between moral civilization and the conscious recognition of divine revelation. But this is not a hierarchy of dignity. It is a distinction in relation to the covenant.

In halachic literature, identity is often defined both negatively and positively . For example, a Jew is not only someone born of a Jewish mother, but also someone who has not apostatized. And a kohen is not only the son of a kohen, but also someone who has not committed any disqualifying acts. This is also the case here. The text is likely trying to say: a Ben Noach is not simply a non-Jew. It is someone who consciously accepts the Noahide commandments as part of the divine covenant. This statement then serves to distinguish between someone from the Gentiles (who does not accept the covenant) and someone from the Gentiles who places themselves within the Noahide covenant. This is a legal demarcation , not a value judgment.

Covenantal language is relational, but it doesn't impose value judgments. In the Torah, being "within the covenant" means acknowledging the source of the norm and relating to the Lawgiver. Anyone who doesn't do this is "outside" of the covenant. But this phrase, "outside the covenant," doesn't mean that you are less human, less worthy, or less loved by God. The Tanakh is very clear on this: "Hasn't one God created us all?" (Malachi 2:10). A person's value comes from being a tzelem Elokim (the image of God), not from a covenantal status.

In our modern language, these words can sound derogatory. The word "outsider" sounds socially or morally inferior. But in rabbinic language, it usually means someone who doesn't fall under this specific legal category. This is comparable to the statement, "Someone is not a citizen of this country." It doesn't mean that this person is less of a human being, but that they are not subject to the laws of that country. The problem is that ancient covenant language clashes with modern sensibilities surrounding the concept of equality.

According to Rambam, it is crucial that a Ben Noach explicitly accepts the laws because they were given by Hashem through Moshe. Otherwise, the relationship remains purely rational. And Judaism is not just a system of morality, but of relationship. A Ben Noach is not just someone who happens to lead a moral life. He or she is someone who consciously connects with universal revelation. This is not about a hierarchy (who is more or less human), but about a distinction in religious position.

Can covenant language sound exclusive? Yes.

The Torah itself grapples with this. Israel is called "chosen." But it is also made responsible for the world. Rabbi Jonathan Sacks put it this way: "Chosen does not mean better. It means called to a particular role." For a ben Noach, it's not about moral rank, but about a conscious role.

But isn't the Noahide covenant primarily an existential relationship with Hashem, you might say.

That is a very essential starting point.

If you understand the covenant existentially—as a relationship with Hashem—then the entire tone of the discussion changes.

In the Tanakh, a brit, or covenant, is not an administrative category, but a living relationship. For example, we read in Noah's account: "But with you I will establish My covenant" (Genesis 6:18). This covenant precedes the laws in their fully developed form. First, there is the relationship. Then comes the norm. If you view the covenant existentially, then a Ben-Noach is not primarily someone who observes the seven rules, but someone who lives in a conscious connection with the God of Noah, the God of all people. The laws are not an entrance ticket, but they give shape to that relationship.

The book of Brit Shalom calls those who don't do this "outsiders"? From an existential, covenantal perspective, the term "outsider" here doesn't mean they are therefore inferior. They simply don't have a conscious relationship with Hashem. Consider Hoshea, where Israel is called "Lo-Ammi" ("not My people"), not because they ceased to be human, but because the relationship was broken . In relational terms, the term "outsider" means there is no mutual recognition . Not that the person or persons involved are without value.

The Talmud (Sanhedrin 59a) suggests that a non-Jew who learns Torah also has value in this regard. But the Rambam distinguishes here between living morally based on reason, your mental insight, and living from your recognition of the revelation of the Eternal. If you view the covenant existentially, then the key question is: is your relationship dependent on your explicit acceptance of the covenant? Or can someone have a relationship with Hashem without calling it that? Rav Kook, for example, saw divine sparks in the moral quest of every person, even without explicit covenantal language.

There are three possible levels:

1. The ontological value: Every person is an image-bearer of Hashem, a tzelem Elokim, and is therefore absolutely equal.

2. Moral civilization: a society is built on justice: it is universally accessible.

3. The conscious covenant relationship: This is a relationship based on the recognition of Hashem as the 'source' of that morality.

The statement in Brit Shalom seems to speak of the third level.

If the bond is existential, then perhaps it's inappropriate to define it negatively at first ("anyone who doesn't accept it is an outsider"). After all, a relationship is defined by connection, not by exclusion.

I understand that the Noahide laws are a prerequisite for establishing a true relationship with Hashem. If the Noahide laws are a prerequisite for a true relationship with Hashem, then we are actually saying something very fundamental. A relationship with Hashem is not merely a matter of feeling or belief, but a moral positioning in reality. This is deeply Jewish. In the Torah, a brit or a covenant is never merely emotional. In Abraham's book, we read: "Walk before Me and be tamim " (Genesis 17:1). Relationship requires attunement . You cannot have a covenant with the Source of righteousness while rejecting righteousness. The seven Noahide laws form the minimal structure in which the world becomes habitable for Hashem's presence. Without the recognition of One God, without respect for life, and without His just order, there can be no lasting relationship with Hashem. This is not a penal mechanism, but an ontological reality.

If you say: the laws are the prerequisite for a relationship with Hashem, then the word 'goy' or "outsider" in this context simply refers to someone who is not part of this relational structure. Therefore, they are not inferior as a human being. Nor does it mean they are rejected. It simply means they are not connected at the level of the Noahide covenant. Compare it to a marriage: every person is valuable, but not everyone is part of your marriage covenant. This isn't about a hierarchy of human existence (for example, who is considered superior as a human being, and therefore counts more), but about a relationship.

Rambam emphasizes that a Ben Noach must accept the laws because they were commanded by Hashem through Moses. But why is that so important? Because a relationship demands reciprocity . If I live morally but don't acknowledge that my morality is grounded in Hashem, then I may be living correctly, but I'm not in an explicit covenant relationship with Hashem. That's likely why Brit Shalom draws this line so clearly in a chapter on the definition of a Ben Noach. With her statement, Brit Shalom aims to make it clear that a Ben Noach is a conscious religious position.

The Talmud states: "The righteous of the nations have a share in the world to come." Hashem does not make a relationship with Him dependent on being placed in a legal category. There is always room for hidden connection. Even if the Noahide Code is the prerequisite for a conscious covenant relationship, divine closeness can still exist beyond these explicit categories. Hashem is greater than our definitions.

The Noahide laws are like a structure that protects and facilitates a relationship, but they also easily create a boundary that leads to separation based on their practical implications. So how does that work?

Every brit or covenant creates a form, and therefore also a boundary. In the Torah, kedusha (holiness) literally means: something that is separated. Not to exclude, but to define something . A house without walls offers no protection. But the walls can also be experienced as exclusion . The seven Noahide laws are like the walls of a habitable moral house. They make a relationship with Hashem possible, but they also define it. Within the walls of the Noahide code, you live in conscious attunement. This is inevitable in any covenant structure. A boundary says: this is the form in which our relationship is established. A condemnation says: whoever stands outside of it is less. The rabbinic tradition means the former, but our language can suggest the latter. Consider the Sabbath. The Sabbath sets a boundary in time. That boundary makes holiness possible. But whoever does not keep the Sabbath is therefore no less human. The same applies here.

Every person bears the image of God. But not everyone is in the same type of relationship. Rav Sacks often said: "God makes universal connectedness possible through specific covenants." This means that the Noachide structure is not one that builds a wall against others, but rather a way for all people on earth to collectively relate.

Why then do we so easily perceive a boundary in practice? Because the covenant also has consequences. We think of halachic status, spiritual categories, and eschatological pronouncements, for example. And as soon as something has practical consequences, it is quickly perceived as a distinction. But distinction does not necessarily mean hierarchy. In the Torah, there are Kohanim and Levi'im; we read about Israel and the gerim, but also about the Bnei Noach. They all concern different roles, but they are the same in their origin.

When a structure is defined primarily through exclusion ("whoever does not accept it is an outsider"), it feels harsher than when it is described in positive terms ("whoever accepts it is in a covenant relationship"). Halachic texts often define sharply. Existential religiosity feels softer. Brit Shalom provides a definition in the legal sense. The Zohar describes the commandments as " levushim ," garments of the soul. A garment is something that encloses the body. It distinguishes the inside from the outside. But it is meant to carry the light , not to keep others out. Perhaps the Seven Laws are such a garment for humanity.

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The structure of the Noachide context is necessary, but it is not there out of coercion, but out of love. That is chosen faithfulness. In the Torah, love is never formless. For example, we read Devarim 6:5: "And you shall love Hashem..." These words are immediately followed by concrete commandments. Love takes shape through the mitzvot. Without structure, love remains vague. Without love, structure becomes cold. The structure is necessary, but it is not a limitation: it is a 'channel,' like a river that draws its strength from its banks.

Why then does the boundary of the covenant feel so sharp? Because you think existentially. When you see the Noahide path as the space in which a full relationship is possible, it automatically implies that outside that space, the same fullness is lacking. This isn't a condemnation. But it is a reality. Compare it to music. Within the context of the musical scales, harmony arises. But outside that structure, we only hear sound, no composition. This doesn't mean that nothing exists outside the musical scale. Only that the specific harmony doesn't arise there .

In Jewish thought, true freedom is not the same as limitlessness. Freedom comes through voluntary limitation in the service of what is good. Abraham chose the brit , or covenant. Israel said, "Na'aseh ve-nishma." And the Ben-Noach now says something similar: I am in this structure out of love. Therefore, others are not excluded by it. The Ben-Noach simply expresses his choice: he says he dedicates himself and that this is a choice he makes of his own free will.

From this perspective, the word "outside" doesn't mean "worse," but rather "not in this specific relational form." Hashem remains the Creator of all people. But the covenant is always concrete . Just as a marriage doesn't mean a negation of those who are not married, but rather the expression of a specific, chosen relationship between two spouses.

Anyone who honestly seeks God will sooner or later arrive at the Noachide Code. But that doesn't prevent them from being helped and guided by Hashem, to the extent of their honesty.

The Seven Laws (such as abstaining from idolatry, abstaining from cursing God, abstaining from murder, abstaining from stealing, etc.) are presented in the Talmud as a universal ethical structure that God gave to all people as the foundation for a just society. They apply to everyone (not just Jews). If someone sincerely seeks God, their search will inevitably lead them toward these norms. It's not that someone must first "know" these laws before following them. Often, honesty and a desire for truth and moral alignment lead someone to principles that reflect these laws. This is where the practical reality of finding Hashem lies. Someone who honestly seeks God will be helped and guided by Hashem to the extent of their honesty. This is a profound religious truth that also lives within Jewish tradition. There are several dimensions to understanding this:

a) The laws were never intended as a strict "gatekeeping mechanism" - Although halachic sources define the laws as the conditions for a formal relationship, they also make it clear that God Himself does not rely on human language to reach people. The Talmud even states that the righteous of all nations share in the world to come. This means that honest seeking, honest living, and faithfulness to universal morality have spiritual value, even outside of an active ceremonial covenant status.

b) It is not merely human will. There is divine guidance. - An honest person seeking truth will express righteousness from their inner conscience. Jewish tradition does not view this as purely a matter of "personal morality," but as a sign from God himself that provides direction. The Rambam, for example, emphasizes that it is not enough to live rationally and well. It is about living because God so wills. Therein lies the divine invitation to connect more deeply.

That someone sincerely and honestly seeks God and is guided by Hashem Himself touches on this core point. The seven laws form a structural path to relationship, but God Himself turns to every person who seeks with an open heart. The laws are not a wall where the light stops; rather, they constitute the language through which that light is expressed in our human world. The laws are the form in which God reveals Himself to people. But the relationship itself is not one-sided. God calls and guides people, even before they have learned the texts. Someone who honestly seeks can (and will) increasingly understand the reality of God and morality, because that itself is God's work in the heart.

You can compare this to music. The seven Noahide laws are like the keynotes in a composition. The notes form the basic structure of a melody. An honest seeker already feels that harmony within themselves, even before knowing the theory. But as soon as someone consciously begins to study, understand, and persevere, the relationship becomes increasingly richer and more conscious. Just like a musician who grows from intuitive sounds to a conscious composition. Honestly seeking God leads people to the truth of these laws, because these laws are the way in which God has universally revealed Himself to humanity and morally inscribed it. God Himself guides people, even before or while they learn about these laws, because God seeks out everyone who sincerely seeks. The Noahide laws are therefore not mere conditions or boundaries, but they indicate the structure within which a true relationship with God becomes possible.

The commandments against idolatry and blasphemy seem fundamental in this context, because they define the source of authority. Without that source, the other commandments lose their ultimate foundation.

In the Torah, idolatry isn't just kneeling before an image. It's attributing ultimate authority to something that isn't God. Rambam (Hilchot Avodah Zarah 1) describes how idolatry began: people acknowledged God, but began to absolutize intermediary forces. The prohibition against idolatry, therefore, states that there is one ultimate Source of morality and existence. Without this prohibition, murder, for example, becomes socially undesirable, theft is only legally prohibited, and justice is then based solely on human convention. With this prohibition, life becomes sacred. Property is entrusted within a moral framework, and justice means participating in the divine order. The commandments against idolatry indeed form the foundation for all other commandments.

And why is the prohibition of blasphemy so fundamental? Because our language shapes our relationships. In Genesis, God creates the world through speech. Humanity, created in His image, builds or destroys through speech. Blaspheming the Name is more than an insult. It is a denial of the sanctity of the relationship itself. The Talmud (Sanhedrin 56a) places this prohibition directly alongside idolatry. Both protect the "vertical axis" of existence.

We also see this in the Ten Commandments. The first commandments concern our relationship with God (vertically). Then we read about our relationship with humanity (horizontally). These first commandments determine the authority of the following commandments. Without this "vertical orientation," morality becomes "utilitarian." With the vertical orientation, morality becomes a matter of the covenant.

But does someone who lives morally but does not explicitly acknowledge God then follow a moral system that has no basis?

The Midrash says that the world before the Flood perished because violence was normalized. Not only because people forgot God, but because they forgot God, ethics lost its "anchor." The commandments against idolatry and blasphemy offer protection against this.

Yirah (or awe of Hashem) is then the gateway to the nearness of the Eternal. At Sinai we read: “That His fear may be upon you, that you may not sin.” (Shemot 20:17) But at the same time, the Torah says: “Hashem spoke with you face to face.” Awe (yirah) does not create distance, but awareness . And awareness opens us to His Presence. Rav Soloveitchik wrote that yirah is not fear, but the awareness of our standing in the Reality of G-d. That awareness intensifies Nearness. Idolatry is essentially the reduction of the transcendent to something manageable.

The Rambam says (Yesodei HaTorah 2:2): When one contemplates the greatness of Hashem, one is filled with both love and awe. First comes wonder. Then comes the sense of Hashem's greatness in relation to one's own position, and then arises longing. Love without awe can become sentimental. Awe without love can become distant. But the awe that opens us to His nearness brings us to the covenant. The Noachide structure is not an emotional refuge, but rather a sacred space in which we can encounter Hashem.

Baruch Ben Noach