Jewish mothers take pride in their intellectually accomplished children—the doctors, the lawyers, the professors, even the rabbis. The Jewish people have earned a reputation for intellectual achievement, a stereotype reinforced by disproportionate representation among Nobel Prize laureates and leading scholars across disciplines.

The Ohr HaChaim (Exodus 18:21), however, makes a striking observation that challenges this perspective. He addresses why the Torah goes out of its way to connect Yitro’s judicial suggestion with him specifically. The answer reveals something fundamental about why God chose the Jewish people; not because they possessed superior intellectual qualities, but in recognition of the faithfulness the patriarchs had shown Him and as an act of love toward this people. As far as intelligence is concerned, good ideas can come from anywhere, and there is no hesitation in acknowledging wisdom from outside the community.

It is a powerful statement of this principle, and recognition of the gratitude owed to the wise Midianite priest who came to offer his concerned advice, that the very portion in which the Torah is given bears his name. There is, in fact, a beautiful reciprocity in that the parashah is named after him, and Rashi tells us that he received an additional name, Yeter, to represent the parashah he caused to be added to the Torah, the judicial system that would allow Moses to delegate authority and create sustainable governance for the nation.

Rabbi Samson Raphael Hirsch points to a revealing detail that builds on the Ohr HaChaim’s insight. When the verse states “Vayishma Moshe”—“and Moses listened” (Exodus 18:24)—the Torah is emphasizing that Moses needed Yitro to teach him these administrative basics. Moses had no independent qualifications as a lawmaker or organizer. He was simply a vessel for God’s will. This humility, this recognition that wisdom can come from unexpected sources, creates the space for the true source of Jewish pride to be identified.

The Oznayim LaTorah makes a related observation. Other nations are united by common race or territory. Among the Jewish people, families have often been divided by circumstances and geography. What brings them together is not any racial or genetic characteristic, but rather a shared belief system, a commitment to Torah and its values.

This focus on the name of the parashah and of Yitro himself leads to another point about naming. When Rashi identifies which section Yitro added, he doesn’t cite its opening words; rather, he refers to it as “Atah Techezeh”—“you shall see”—a phrase from the middle of that passage. Rabbi Meir Shapiro addressed this with an incisive observation: anyone can identify a problem, yet recognition goes to the one who provides the solution. Yitro didn’t merely observe that Moses was overwhelmed; he presented a concrete, implementable answer.

This principle of problem-solving over problem-identification resonated deeply in Rabbi Shapiro’s own life. When he founded Daf Yomi, critics had no trouble articulating why Jewish learning was in decline. They could identify the problem with ease. What they lacked was a plan. Rabbi Shapiro wasn’t deterred by those who offered only criticism without solutions. He created a practical framework that would unite Jews across the world in daily Talmud study, a system that not only continues to this day but thrives as one of the most successful educational initiatives in Jewish history.

To take the theme of names a further step, the parashah’s name is particularly noteworthy because “Yitro” is not actually the opening word. The first word is “Vayishma”—“and he heard.” While custom has developed in various ways regarding how parashiyot are named, the choice to use Yitro’s name rather than the opening word represents an additional measure of deliberate recognition.

It is particularly notable because that first word is not insignificant; it actually carries tremendous importance. The Talmud (Zevachim 116a) asks what exactly Yitro heard that prompted him to come to the Jewish people. The word “vayishma” in the verse implies not merely hearing but responding with action. Three possible choices are given as to which event brought him: the splitting of the Sea of Reeds, the war with Amalek, and the giving of the Torah. Rashi mentions only the first two.

In the context of this question, there is a discussion about whether Yitro came before or after the giving of the Torah. Nachmanides asks why, if he came after that momentous event, the text does not inform us that he had heard about it. R. Simcha Zissel Broide (Sam Derech) offers an answer that emphasizes the Torah’s focus on the splitting of the sea, precisely because that miraculous occurrence was heard in three distinct ways by different populations. The nations of the world heard and were frightened, but continued living as before. Amalek heard and attacked. Yitro heard and responded with wisdom.

The Midrash (Tanchuma Yitro 3:2) expands on these different reactions through the language of Proverbs 19:25: “Strike a scoffer and the simple will become clever; reprove an understanding person and he will gain knowledge.” The “scoffer” refers to Amalek, who witnessed the miracles and nevertheless attacked. The “understanding person” is Yitro, who heard the same news and came to join the Jewish people. The Midrash praises Yitro using this very language, as can be seen in Rashi’s commentary on that verse in Proverbs.

These responses reveal a crucial component of this story. The splitting of the Sea represented a moment of miraculous salvation and divine intervention, followed almost immediately by Amalek’s devastating attack. The Darkhei No’am of Slonim suggests that Yitro came not only to give advice but also to seek it. Having heard of these dramatic swings, he wanted to understand how one maintains consistency through such upheaval. The answer, ultimately, will be found through the Torah itself.

The Nachalat Eliezer raises a penetrating question about Yitro’s conversion. Why did he convert rather than simply rely on his own intellect and wisdom? Yitro witnessed Amalek’s pointless and self-destructive war against the Jewish people, which demonstrated the overwhelming power of bias and personal interest. Even the wisest person needs something beyond their own reasoning to guide them reliably.

The Ohr HaChaim’s emphasis on the faithfulness of the patriarchs rather than intellectual superiority brings the picture into focus. Abraham was indeed a man of great intelligence and wisdom. He engaged with a transcendent system of morality and committed himself to it, while also creating a legacy of kindness and personal concern, all of which the Torah acknowledges (Gen. 18:19) as the reason for his selection; not his intellectual prowess, but his moral character, faith, and his readiness to transmit that message to his family, then and for all generations.

Intelligence is not the defining quality of the Jewish people. What matters is the commitment to something higher: to a moral framework rooted in divine command, to a tradition that would define Abraham’s descendants. The Talmud emphasizes that Yitro didn’t merely come to offer his advice; he actually converted and threw his lot in with the Jewish people. This wise man, this exemplar of intellectual achievement from among the nations, joined the Abrahamic vision, setting the stage for many righteous converts throughout Jewish history.

Perhaps this is why some refer to the parashah as “Vayishma Yitro,” combining the two words. The title captures not just what Yitro heard, but how he responded; with recognition, action, and commitment. He understood that the Torah offers something intelligence alone cannot provide: the guide for morality and life, the framework that provides consistency when everything else is in flux. What the Jewish people received was something of an entirely different order; not superior intellect, but the Torah and its mission, the foundation that shapes the very essence of how to live and who to be.​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​