The ancient rabbis certainly knew it. They saw it baked right into the words of the Torah itself.
Take, for instance, the opening of Parashat Noah, the portion of Genesis that tells the story of Noah and the Ark. It begins, "These are the offspring of Noah…" (Genesis 6:9). Simple enough, right? But Rabbi Abahu, a prominent 3rd-century sage, sees something profound in those two little words, "these are." According to Bereshit Rabbah 30, Rabbi Abahu taught that wherever we find the phrase "these are" in the Torah, it comes to exclude everything that came before. It's a line in the sand. Here, it definitively separates Noah and his family from the utter depravity of the generation that perished in the Flood. It's a fresh start, a new beginning for humanity.
But there’s even more hidden in the text. Immediately following that opening phrase, we have a repetition: "These are the offspring of Noah; Noah…" Why is Noah's name repeated?
Rabbi Abba bar Kahana offers a beautiful interpretation: Anyone whose name is written twice in succession, he says, has a double share – both in this world and in the World to Come (olam ha-ba). It's a mark of exceptional merit, a sign that this individual is blessed beyond measure. But then someone raises a challenge. What about Terah, Abraham's father? The Torah says, "Terah, Terah, these are the descendants of Shem…" (Genesis 11:27). Was Terah, who wasn't exactly known for his righteousness, also guaranteed a place in the World to Come?
Now, this could seem like a problem, right? A contradiction. But the rabbis, masters of interpretation that they were, don't shy away from the difficulty. Instead, they dive deeper, finding hidden layers of meaning. Rabbi Yudan, quoting Rabbi Abba bar Kahana, offers a stunning resolution.
When God tells Abraham, "You shall go to your fathers in peace" (Genesis 15:15), He's actually giving Abraham a secret message, a besorah tovah, good tidings. He is letting Abraham know that his father, Terah, does indeed have a share in the World to Come. It’s a beautiful idea – that even those who may have strayed in this life can still find redemption and a place in the ultimate reward. Furthermore, the verse continues, "You will be buried at a good old age" (Genesis 15:15). This, Rabbi Yudan explains, is also good news: it’s a sign that Ishmael, Abraham's son through Hagar, would repent during Abraham’s lifetime, bringing further peace and contentment to Abraham's final years.
So, what do we take away from this little gem of rabbinic interpretation found in Bereshit Rabbah? Perhaps it’s a reminder that even in the face of utter destruction, new beginnings are always possible. And that even when things seem contradictory, there's often a deeper, more nuanced truth waiting to be uncovered. Maybe, just maybe, it's a message of hope – that even those who seem lost can still find their way to a share in the World to Come.