Jewish tradition grapples with these questions in fascinating ways, often through the stories of our ancestors.
Take the prophet Ovadiah, for instance. The book of Ovadiah opens with a prophecy against Edom, as we read in Ovadiah 1:1, "The vision of Ovadiah: Thus has said the L-rd G-d to Edom: We have heard a report..." But why Ovadiah? Why was he chosen to deliver this particular message?
Sifrei Bamidbar, a rabbinic commentary on the Book of Numbers, offers a compelling answer. It's all about contrasts, about highlighting the power of individual choice. Ovadiah, we are told, grew up in the very household of the wicked King Achav (Achan) and his equally notorious wife, Izevel (Jezebel). Imagine the moral corruption swirling around him! Yet, he remained righteous.
On the other hand, we have Esav (Edom), who, as the text points out, was raised by two righteous parents, Isaac and Rivka (Rebecca). He had every advantage, every opportunity to absorb their goodness. Yet, he chose a different path.
So, the Rabbis ask, who is best suited to deliver a prophecy condemning Edom? Why, Ovadiah, of course! He who overcame the corrupting influence of his upbringing is the perfect messenger to confront Esav, who failed to live up to the example of his own saintly parents. It's a powerful lesson about accountability, about how ultimately, we are responsible for our own choices, regardless of our circumstances. The Zohar echoes these sentiments, emphasizing the profound impact of individual will.
The passage then shifts gears, focusing on the daughters of Tzelofchad. Remember them? They were the ones who bravely petitioned Moses for their father's inheritance in the Land of Israel because he had no sons (Numbers 27:1-11). Sifrei Bamidbar connects them to Joseph, noting that "of the families of Menasheh the son of Joseph." The text suggests that just as Joseph held Eretz Yisrael – the Land of Israel – dear (as evidenced by his request to be buried there, Genesis 50:25), so too did these daughters.
The text lists their names: "And these are the names of his daughters: Machlah, Noah, Choglah, Milkah, and Tirtzah." But then a question arises: Does the order in which they're listed indicate their importance? Is the first-named daughter, Machlah, somehow considered more worthy than the others?
The Torah itself answers this question. In Numbers 36:11, when the daughters actually marry, the order of their names is rearranged: "And Machlah, Tirtzah, Choglah, Milkah, and Noah, the daughters of Tzelofchad..." This subtle shift, Sifrei Bamidbar explains, teaches us that they were all of equal worth. Each daughter was a heroine in her own right, and their individual contributions were equally valued.
What do these two seemingly disparate stories – Ovadiah and the daughters of Tzelofchad – have in common? Perhaps it's a reminder that Jewish tradition values both individual moral responsibility and the equal worth of every person. We are shaped by our environments, yes, but we also have the power to rise above them. And we are all, regardless of our circumstances or achievements, deserving of dignity and respect. It's a message that resonates just as powerfully today as it did centuries ago.