Specifically, Bereshit Rabbah 39.

Rabbi Azarya, quoting Rabbi Aḥa, starts with a verse from Psalms (45:8): "You love righteousness and abhor wickedness. Because of this, God, your God, has anointed you over your counterparts with the oil of joy.” Now, Rabbi Azarya applies this verse directly to Abraham. What's so special about Abraham that merits this praise? It all comes down to that famous scene where Abraham pleads for Sodom.

Remember the story? God's about to rain fire and brimstone on Sodom and Gomorrah because of their wickedness. And Abraham, ever the righteous one, steps in. "Far be it from You," he argues, "to do a thing like this, to kill the righteous with the wicked!" (Genesis 18:25). He's basically saying, "God, is that fair?"

Rabbi Aḥa elaborates on Abraham's argument, and it's pretty bold. He reminds God of the oath made after the Flood, the promise never to destroy the world again. "Are You seeking to evade Your oath?" Abraham asks, incredulously. "You [swore that You] will not bring a flood of water, but you may bring a flood of fire? If so, You have not fulfilled Your oath." Think about that for a moment – Abraham is calling God out on a technicality!

Rabbi Levi takes it even further. Quoting Genesis 18:25, “Shall the Judge of all the earth not practice justice?” he has Abraham essentially saying, “God, You can't have it both ways! If You demand perfect justice, the world can't exist. And if You want a world to exist, You have to ease up on the strict justice.” It's a powerful idea: that divine mercy is necessary for the world to continue. That without some flexibility, some giving, and some grace, the whole thing collapses.

Rabbi Levi continues to explain Abraham's thinking: "If You wish to have a world, there can be no strict justice, and if you wish strict justice, there can be no world... if You do not ease up a bit, the world will be unable to endure."

So, what does God say to all this? According to Bereshit Rabbah, God acknowledges Abraham's point. "You love righteousness and abhor wickedness," God says, echoing the verse from Psalms.

But then comes the kicker: "Over your counterparts" – what is "over your counterparts"? From Noah until you there were ten generations, and from among all of them, I did not speak with any of them except for you."

What does this mean? Well, it suggests that Abraham's unique quality wasn't just his righteousness, but his willingness to stand up for righteousness, to challenge even God in the name of justice and mercy. As Louis Ginzberg retells the story in Legends of the Jews, Abraham's actions demonstrate an unparalleled devotion to divine principles, even when they seemed to clash with divine actions.

He was chosen, in other words, because he dared to argue. He dared to care.

This passage invites us to consider our own relationship with justice and mercy. Do we passively accept the world as it is, or do we dare to question, to challenge, to advocate for a more just and compassionate world? Are we willing to engage, like Abraham, even when it means challenging the very foundations of our beliefs?

Maybe, just maybe, that's what it means to truly love righteousness and abhor wickedness. And perhaps, like Abraham, that's how we earn the right to be called a partner with the Divine.