Sometimes, it's not about grand pronouncements or earth-shattering feats from the get-go. Sometimes, it starts with simply being a good son.
Take Gideon, for example.
Gideon, the judge and warrior who delivered Israel from the Midianites. But before he was a celebrated leader, he was just a dutiful son. The Talmud (Shabbat 139a) actually praises him for this very quality. His elderly father, fearing the marauding Midianites, still felt obligated to thresh his own grain. Gideon, seeing his father's vulnerability, stepped in. "Father," he said, according to the traditional telling, "you are too old for this work. Go home and rest, and I will take over. If the Midianites come, I can run, but you cannot." It’s a quiet act of kindness, born of respect and love. And according to our tradition, it's precisely this kind of character that made Gideon worthy of his future greatness.
The day Gideon won his monumental victory holds significance, too. It took place during Pesach, Passover. Remember the story of the Midianite's dream? The one about the barley cake that toppled the enemy camp? The Zohar, that foundational text of Jewish mysticism, sees a profound connection. That cake, it says, symbolizes the Omer offering – a barley offering brought during Passover. The Zohar implies that God championed the Israelites because they were fulfilling this sacred obligation.
So, it wasn't just Gideon's bravery or strategic brilliance. It was the convergence of personal virtue – his devotion to his father – and communal devotion – the offering of the Omer. It's a reminder that even small acts of kindness and devotion can ripple outward, shaping destinies and changing the course of history.
What does that say to us? Maybe that heroism isn't always about the spectacular. Maybe it's about the quiet acts of love and service that pave the way for something greater. Maybe it's about being a good son, a good daughter, a good person, one barley cake at a time.