“Show compassion to the righteous (the tzaddik), to the pious, to the leaders of your people, the House of Israel, to the remnants of their sages, to righteous converts, and to us…”
One thing we know is that if you say you are a tzaddik, you aren’t. Righteousness and a lack of humility do not mix well.
Judasim has always had a certain ambivalence about “the righteous.” As part of the intrinsic democracy of the Jewish people—where every single person matters—the tradition is skeptical of those who are “holier than thou.”
To wit: Two Jews are arguing about their rabbis, their “tzaddikim” (“righteous ones”). The first says, “My tzaddik is so learned he can talk for an hour about absolutely anything!” The second replies, “Big deal. My tzaddik is so learned he can talk for an hour about absolutely nothing!
A similar ambivalence is demonstrated in this blessing. For as we invoke G-d’s blessings on the righteous, the pious, etc., we go through five different categories of worthy people until, finally, we get to …“us.” Righteous, we are not. So why invoke the name of the righteous, the pious, etc.? Because , in one way or another., they all represent sacred striving. In other words, the prayer is saying, “We know we are not that. We don’t fit into any of those categories. But we do strive to become part of that rarified world.
And thus the blessing continues, “Give a good reward to all who truly trust Your name…” Not because of our righteousness, but because of our association with You.
The balance of righteousness and faith is delicate, to say the least. And crucial. The struggle to find and maintain it is, among other things, the most fundamental question Christianity ever had to address (there, it is known as the “faith and works” debate). What this blessing tells us, though, is that we’ve got work do to in both departments.
And that work is the source of blessings for us.