The Daughters of Tzelophchad — The Power of In the System, Principled Petition
Parashat Pinchas introduces us to one of the most remarkable episodes in the Torah: the case of the daughters of Tzelophchad. Five women — Machlah, No’ah, Hoglah, Milkah, and Tirzah — approach Moses, Eleazar the priest, the leaders, and the entire assembly at the entrance of the Tent of Meeting with a question that would ultimately shift the contours of Israelite inheritance law:
“Why should our father’s name be lost to his clan because he had no son? Give us a portion among our father’s brothers” (Numbers 27:4).
Their father, Tzelophchad, had died in the wilderness without sons, and under the current law of the time, only males inherited land. But the daughters do not rebel or call for the dismantling of the system. They approach the existing leadership and make a claim rooted in justice, dignity, and continuity. Moses, rather than issuing a ruling himself, brings their case before God, and God responds in affirmation:
“כן בנות צלפחד דוברות — The daughters of Tzelophchad speak rightly. You shall give them a hereditary possession among their father’s kinsmen” (Numbers 27:7).
Their boldness, logic, and faith result in a direct change in the law — and not only for themselves. Their case sets a precedent for future cases of inheritance when no sons are present, showing that individual claims, respectfully and wisely presented, can lead to the growth of the legal system.
The story of the daughters of Tzelophchad serves as a model of legal advancement through respectful challenge. They neither dismantle nor defy the law. Instead, they engage the law, drawing upon its internal values — fairness, justice, continuity — and trust that the leadership and ultimately God will respond.
This kind of legal evolution is mirrored in other moments in history when brave individuals or groups — often women — presented just claims that helped refine and advance the systems they lived in:
1. Women’s Jury Service in the United States
For much of American history, women were excluded from juries. The legal system presumed men were better suited to “rational deliberation.” But women across various states began to challenge this presumption — not to undermine the justice system but to improve it.
In 1946, Florence Ellinwood Allen, the first woman appointed to a federal appellate court, argued that women’s insights and experiences were crucial to just deliberation. Gradually, courts and legislatures agreed. In 1975, in Taylor v. Louisiana, the U.S. Supreme Court finally ruled that women could not be excluded from juries.
These changes did not tear down the system of justice; they helped make it more representative, fair, and complete, just as the daughters of Tzelophchad sought to ensure their family’s legacy would not be erased.
2. Voting Rights and the Grimké Sisters
In the 1830s, Sarah and Angelina Grimké, daughters of Southern slaveholders, began speaking out publicly against slavery and for women’s rights. In an era when women were discouraged from public speech and political involvement, the Grimkés boldly but respectfully wrote letters and gave speeches grounded in biblical values and American principles of equality.
In her 1838 Letters on the Equality of the Sexes, Sarah Grimké insisted, “I ask no favors for my sex. I surrender not our claim to equality.” The Grimkés’ arguments helped pave the way for both the abolitionist movement and early feminist thought, particularly the claim that women’s moral insight had public and legal relevance. Again, a just and principled argument advanced society without breaking its legal or moral backbone.
3. The Brontë Sisters and Legal Reform through Literature
The Brontë sisters — Charlotte, Emily, and Anne — were not lawyers or politicians, but their novels subtly challenged the legal constraints placed on women in Victorian England, especially in matters of inheritance, marriage, and personal autonomy. In Jane Eyre and The Tenant of Wildfell Hall, they expose the vulnerabilities women faced under English law — yet they never suggest lawlessness. Their stories prompted social reflection that would help shape reforms in property law and women’s rights in the decades that followed.
The daughters of Tzelophchad remind us that our legal and ethical systems are not frozen; they are alive, responsive, and shaped by those who care deeply about justice and righteousness. Their petition is not a protest of rejection but a claim of belonging. Their story exemplifies the best kind of social progress — one where individuals work within tradition and structure to bring about refinement. We must seek leaders today who align with that principled approach.
Shabbat Shalom,
Rabbi Bolton