Today, we’re diving into a fascinating passage from Vayikra Rabbah 36 that grapples with the legacy of King Ahaz.

The verse from Proverbs sets the stage: “One hand to another will not be absolved from evil, [but the descendant of the righteous will escape]” (Proverbs 11:21). This raises the question: can a connection to righteousness save someone from the consequences of their actions?

Bar Kappara offers a stark assessment: Ahaz, along with other wicked kings of Israel, has no portion in the World to Come. Ouch. The evidence? Hosea 7:7: “All their kings have fallen, none of them calls to me.” Sounds pretty definitive.

But here's where it gets interesting. Despite this harsh judgment, Ahaz is included in the list of kings during whose reigns Isaiah prophesied: “In the days of Uziyahu, Yotam, Aḥaz, Hezekiah, kings of Judah” (Isaiah 1:1). How can we reconcile this? Why is he listed alongside righteous kings if he was so wicked?

Rav Aḥa, quoting Rabbi Elazar and Rabbi Yosei in the name of Rabbi Yehoshua ben Levi, suggests it was because of his humility. Humility? What?! Apparently, when the prophet came to rebuke him, Ahaz would deliberately go to a place of impurity, believing that the Divine Presence wouldn’t dwell there. The Etz Yosef commentary explains that he was embarrassed to hear the prophet’s rebuke and tried to avoid it, even if it meant missing out on potential prophecy. It’s a strange kind of humility, isn't it? Avoidance masquerading as deference.

The text then plays with the Hebrew. Isaiah is told to go to Ahaz at the "end of the channel of the upper pool, on the path of the launderer's field [sede khoves]" (Isaiah 7:3). But Rabbi Yehuda HaNasi suggests we read khoves not as "launderer," but as khovesh, meaning "lower." When the prophet rebuked him, Ahaz would lower his face in shame.

Rabbi Yehuda HaNasi offers another perspective: perhaps Ahaz was tormented by the death of his firstborn son, as described in II Chronicles 28:7. “Zikhri, a mighty warrior of Ephraim, killed Maaseyahu the king’s son, and Azrikam chief official of the house, and Elkana the viceroy.” The Etz Yosef commentary suggests that this suffering atoned for his sins.

Rabbi Hoshaya the Great offers yet another explanation: Ahaz's father was righteous. Hezekiah laments in Isaiah 38:17, “Behold, with peace, it is very bitter for me [mar li mar].” Hezekiah sees bitterness both before him (Ahaz) and after him (Menashe).

This leads to a crucial point: Menashe's father was righteous, but his son was wicked. Ahaz's father was righteous, and his son (Hezekiah) was righteous. Rabbi Simon emphasizes this point, noting that the verse doesn’t say “descendant of the righteous [tzaddik]” (singular) will escape, but “descendant of the righteous [tzaddikim]” (plural). Ahaz, sandwiched between two righteous figures, finds a measure of redemption.

Rabbi Pinḥas shifts gears, warning against performing a mitzva (good deed) with the expectation of immediate reward. He argues that someone who seeks instant gratification for their good deeds is wicked and will leave nothing to their children. Why? Because the merit will be used up! Rabbi Simon illustrates this with a man who demands payment upfront: "Here is the sack, here is the sela (coin), here is the se’a (measure); arise and take.” If the patriarchs had demanded immediate reward for every minor mitzva, what merit would have been left for their descendants? As it says, "I will remember My covenant with Jacob."

So, what are we left with? A complex and nuanced portrait of King Ahaz. Was he wicked? Yes, according to some. But was he also capable of humility, tormented by loss, and ultimately, perhaps, redeemed by the righteousness of his father and son? The text leaves us pondering the mysteries of judgment, atonement, and the enduring power of legacy. It reminds us that even in the darkest of figures, glimmers of light might still be found. And perhaps, that's a message worth remembering.