The Idra Zuta, that profound text within the Zohar, whispers a secret: it all hinges on the presence of a truly righteous soul, a tzaddik, a "lover of the Holy One." When such a person walks the earth, even if strict righteousness is the prevailing force, the world can be saved through their merit. Why? Because, the Zohar tells us, God delights in honoring them. They stand tall, unburdened by fear of judgment.

Think about that for a moment. When a righteous person is absent, we become afraid, even terrified, of justice. We can't withstand it. But why is that?

King David, that towering figure of faith, declared, "Examine me, Hashem, and prove me" (Psalms 26:2). He wasn’t afraid of facing judgment, not even of the most stringent kind, because he felt connected to righteousness itself. As the embodiment of Malchut – the Divine Kingdom – he proclaimed, "I will behold your face in righteousness" (Psalms 17:15). He wasn't afraid to face its judgments.

But then… he sinned. And everything changed. Suddenly, David cried out, "And enter not into judgment with your servant" (Psalms 143:2). Now, even justice itself was a source of fear.

What’s the difference? How can we reconcile these two seemingly opposite reactions from the same individual?

Here's where it gets really interesting. When Tzedek (righteousness), a masculine force, is sweetened by Din (justice), a more feminine energy, it transforms into Tzedakah – charity or righteous giving. Notice the feminine suffix? That’s because, in this state, righteousness becomes the female aspect of Zeir Anpin – the Divine attribute associated with compassion – called justice. And she, in turn, receives Chassadim, loving-kindness, from him.

And the result? The world is sweetened, overflowing with Chesed. As we find in Psalms 33:5: “He loves tzedakah and justice; the earth is full of the Chesed of Hashem.”

It’s a delicate balance, isn't it? A dance between righteousness and justice, masculine and feminine, strictness and compassion. And it all hinges on the presence, the actions, and even the absence of righteous individuals in the world.

What does this mean for us today? Perhaps it's a reminder that we each have a role to play in creating that balance, in striving for righteousness, and in softening the harsh edges of judgment with acts of loving-kindness. Maybe, just maybe, we can all contribute to filling the world with Chesed.