We often think of fate, of serendipity, maybe even algorithms these days. But Jewish tradition offers a far more profound and frankly, audacious, answer. : the idea that someone, somewhere, is meant for you. It’s comforting, isn't it? But what if that "someone" isn't exactly who society deems acceptable? What if they are, shall we say, on the fringes?
That's where this fascinating passage from Bereshit Rabbah 65 comes in. Bereshit Rabbah, for those unfamiliar, is a collection of rabbinic interpretations (midrashim) on the Book of Genesis. In this particular section, the rabbis are grappling with Esau's marriage to Yehudit.
Rabbi Yudan kicks things off with a verse from Psalms: "God settles the lonely in a home…" (Psalms 68:7). Simple enough. But then Rabbi Yehuda chimes in, and this is where it gets interesting.
Rabbi Yehuda says – and get ready for this – that even if there’s a mamzer at one end of the world and a mamzeret at the other, the Holy One, blessed be He, brings them together!
Now, a mamzer (masculine) or mamzeret (feminine) is a person born from a forbidden union – a child who, according to Jewish law, faces significant social and legal restrictions. They're often seen as outcasts.
So, what Rabbi Yehuda is suggesting is pretty radical: even those deemed "unmatchable" by society are not beyond God's matchmaking prowess. Where does he get this idea? He circles back to that same verse: "God settles the lonely in a home."
But here’s the kicker. The text then brings up the command to destroy certain nations: "Rather, you shall destroy them: The Hittite, the Emorite" (Deuteronomy 20:17). And the commentary suggests: Let this one, whose name should be blotted out, marry that one, whose name should also be blotted out.
Whoa. for a moment.
The implication isn't that we should actively seek out forbidden unions! Rather, it illustrates the sheer scope of God's ability to find a match, even in the most unlikely and seemingly undesirable circumstances. It highlights the idea that no one is truly beyond redemption, beyond connection, beyond the possibility of finding their place.
It's a powerful statement about the inclusive nature of divine love and the unexpected ways that connections can be forged.
Then, the text circles back to our original story with the simple phrase: "Esau was forty years old, and he took…"
The passage invites us to consider: what does it mean to find belonging? Who gets to define who is "matchable"? And what role does the Divine play in connecting us, even – and perhaps especially – when we feel most alone? Food for thought, isn’t it? Maybe the next time you see an unlikely couple, you'll remember this teaching and consider the hidden hand at play.