The Pesikta DeRav Kahana, a collection of Midrashic teachings, offers a fascinating insight into this very question.
It all starts with a verse from Psalm 45:8: "You love justice and hate wickedness; therefore Hashem your God has anointed you with the oil of rejoicing above your fellows." This verse, seemingly straightforward, becomes a key to understanding the unique relationships that certain individuals had with God.
Rabbi Azariah, quoting Rabbi Acha, uses this verse to illuminate Abraham's extraordinary position. Remember the story of Sodom? Abraham, ever the advocate, challenges God's plan to destroy the city. He reminds God of His promise not to bring another flood, referencing Isaiah 54:9: "For this is like the waters of Noah to Me, as I vowed I would never again bring the waters of Noah upon the earth." Abraham cleverly argues, "A flood of water You would not bring; however, a flood of fire You would bring? Would you employ artifice about that vow?"
He continues, "Heaven forbid You should do such a thing as this, to kill the righteous alongside the wicked…Should the Judge of the entire world not perform justice?" (Genesis 18:25). This is a powerful moment! Abraham is essentially saying that absolute justice and a habitable world might be mutually exclusive. If God insists on strict justice, the world simply cannot exist.
God's response is equally profound: "Abraham, 'you love justice and you hate wickedness' (Psalm 45:8)." But God clarifies what this love and hate truly mean. "You love justice": on behalf of My creations. And "you hate wickedness": in that you hate condemning the wicked. Abraham's compassion, his ability to see the potential for good even in the face of wickedness, is what sets him apart.
And what about the phrase, "anointed you with the oil of rejoicing above your fellows"? According to the Pesikta, God says to Abraham: "From Noah until your [generation], I did not speak with any of them; rather, with you I have spoken first." Wow. Abraham's connection was unprecedented. As Genesis 15:1 states, "After these events transpired, the word of God [came] to Avram in a vision, saying, [I shall be a shield for you, [and] your reward will be exceedingly great]."
The Pesikta then shifts to the prophet Isaiah, using the same verse from Psalms to explain his unique role. Rabbi Azariah, this time quoting Rabbi Judah bar Simon, recounts Isaiah's calling. Isaiah overhears God asking, "Who will I send and who will go forth for us?" (Isaiah 6:8).
God reflects on past messengers. He sent Amos, but people called him "stammerer" (p'silos in Hebrew). Rabbi Pinchas explains that this was because there was stammering in his speech. They questioned, "Did the Holy One Blessed be He pass upon the entire world (i.e., in search of a prophet), but let His Shekhinah [Divine Presence] rest upon this stammerer, on this tongueless man?" Then there was Micah, who, as it says in Micah 4:14, was struck on the cheek.
God asks who to send next. Isaiah immediately volunteers: "Here I am, send me!" (Isaiah 6:8). But God warns him, "Isaiah, my children – they are troublesome and they are stubborn. Do you accept upon yourself to be stricken and demeaned by them?" Isaiah, unwavering, accepts these conditions.
And again, God says, "Isaiah, you love justice…You love the justice of my children. And you hate wickedness…You hate condemning [the wicked]. For that reason, Hashem your God anoints you with the oil of rejoicing above your fellows."
But who are Isaiah's "fellows"? God reveals that unlike other prophets who received their prophetic ability from other prophets – think of Elijah and Elisha (2 Kings 2:15), or Moses and the seventy Elders (Numbers 11:25) – Isaiah would prophesy directly from the mouth of the Almighty. As Isaiah 61:1 says, "The spirit of the Lord God is upon me, because God has anointed me."
Furthermore, while other prophets prophesied simple prophecies, Isaiah's would be complex, "doubled" prophecies, filled with layers of meaning. The text points to verses like "Arise, arise" (Isaiah 51:9), "Rouse yourselves, rouse yourselves" (Isaiah 61:10), "I, I" (Isaiah 51:12), and "Comfort, O comfort my people" (Isaiah 40:1) as examples of this doubled prophetic style.
So, what can we take away from these interpretations? It seems that a special connection with God isn't just about being righteous, but about possessing a deep, unwavering love for humanity, even for those who seem undeserving. It's about advocating for justice while simultaneously holding space for compassion and understanding. It's a challenging balance, to be sure, but perhaps it's the key to unlocking our own potential for connection and meaning in the world.