But what if I told you that true greatness lies not in squashing the competition, but in celebrating it?

That’s the kind of wisdom we find nestled within the ancient texts of our tradition. Take Bereshit Rabbah, a collection of rabbinic interpretations of the Book of Genesis. In section 32, the rabbis unpack the verse "Come, you…" from Genesis 7:1, where God tells Noah to enter the ark. But they do so in a way you might not expect, drawing a connection to Psalm 11:7: “For the Lord is righteous and He loves righteousness. Their faces will behold the upright One.”

What’s the link? Well, Rabbi Tanhuma, quoting both Rabbi Yehuda bar Simon and Rabbi Menahama (who in turn cites Rabbi Eliezer bar Yosei), offers a startling idea: normally, no one likes a rival in their profession. But a Torah scholar, a true seeker of wisdom, loves their competitor. Why would that be? Perhaps because iron sharpens iron. Perhaps because recognizing the brilliance in another only elevates your own understanding.

The Midrash illustrates this point with the beautiful friendship between Rabbi Ḥiyya and Rabbi Hoshaya. These two great scholars weren't rivals; they were collaborators, pushing each other to greater heights of learning and insight. They saw each other not as threats, but as essential partners in the pursuit of truth.

But the Midrash doesn’t stop there. It takes this idea even further, suggesting that the Holy One, blessed be He, also appreciates his “competitor.” This is where Psalm 11:7 comes back into play. God’s "craft," so to speak, is tzedek (righteousness), yet He loves others who act with tzedek. As the Midrash explains, this is a reference to Noah, who demonstrated his own righteousness.

So, when God says, "Come, you…," He’s not just inviting Noah into the ark. He's acknowledging Noah’s own commitment to righteousness, recognizing him as a fellow "craftsman" in the work of building a just and compassionate world. God invites Noah into partnership.

What a profound idea! God, the ultimate creator, the source of all goodness, isn't threatened by righteousness in others. Instead, He embraces it, celebrates it, and invites it closer.

What does this mean for us? Maybe it's a call to re-evaluate our own relationships. To see the potential for collaboration where we once saw competition. To recognize that the more righteousness we cultivate in the world, the more we reflect the divine image within ourselves and, ultimately, the closer we draw to the Divine itself. Maybe true success isn't about being the only one, but about inspiring and empowering others to be their best selves, too. Just like Noah. Just like Rabbi Ḥiyya and Rabbi Hoshaya. Just like… maybe, just maybe… us.