UKENS DVAR TORA - vajera ( reprise fra 2013)
av overrabbiner Michael Melchior
The event which no doubt is the climax of the life of our Patriarch Abraham comes in Chapter 22, at the end of the portion of Vayera. This event, often classified as the ultimate trial of faith, has become known as «The Akeida» from the Hebrew root «to bind», in verse 9. God tells Abraham to sacrifice the child born to him after so many years of longing, the son of whom God, in the previous chapter, had promised that «it is through Yitzchak that offsprings will be continued for you». This story of the binding and near sacrifice of Yitzchak, the Akaida, is an unforgettably profound story that is interpreted and reinterpreted again and again in every generation, also beyond the Jewish people. The Danish theologian Søren Kierkegaard wrote his most profound theological piece on the Akeida, teaching us that according to his opinion the lesson for the believer is that the voice of God, at a certain level, must override the voice of human conscience.
The story of the Akeida also plays such a central role because of Jewish history and fate throughout the ages. But what was in the Biblical story, the redemptive ending and very possibly the lesson of the Akeida – that God does not desire human sacrifice, was not the ending experienced throughout the persecutions of Jewish History from the second century, under the Roman Empire, through the medieval Jewish communities and until the Shoah. Jews saw themselves reliving the Akeida, the drama with a tragic ending and without any satisfying answers to the ultimate question which the Akeida provokes. Even when we study in depth the working of the Akeida, with its seemingly happy and redemptive ending the questions and the wounds are clearly implied in the text. The close and intimate love and relationship between Abraham and Yitzchak, which we know exists through the divine promise is indicated in the expression:
«וילכו שניהם יחדיו»
«The two walked off together».
Perfect harmony between father and son.
Even after Yitzchak asks his father: «here is the firestone and the wood, but where is the sheep for the burnt offering» and his father’s somewhat evasive answer – God will provide, it is clear that Yitzchak suspects something, but the text then repeats the expression:
«וילכו שניהם יחדיו»
«The two walked off together», in order to emphasize for us that the bond between the two is solid and remains unbroken, it cannot be threatened.
Then comes the peak of the drama, when Abraham, as we know, goes along with the divine demand and is about to sacrifice his beloved son, and then, at the very last moment, is told to substitute the sacrifice of Yitzchak with a ram, and is blessed by God for having proven his faith.
But what happens in his relationship with Yitzchak? At the end of the Akeida the text says that: «Abraham returned to his servants and they departed together for Be’er Sheva». Abraham returned, Yitzchak never returned. True, he was saved, he was «the first survivor», but the relationship could never again be repaired. In truth we know of no dialogue between father and son, again – ever. Not only that, but at the end of Chapter 24, we find that Yitzchak has settled in the Negev, in a location called Be’er Le’chai Ro’i. This is the location where Ishmael, Abraham’s ousted son, Yitzchak’s half brother, was born and connected to. Maybe this is the only place where Yitzchak feels he can go to after the Akeida. The text is not explicit about this but, in a sublime way, shows us through the silence of the relationship that at times when questions are difficult, the search for truth does not always demand answers which we don’t have. The scars which Yitzchak carried with him for the rest of his life could not have been repaired through some meaningless dialogue with his father. At times silence must be that answer.
We read the story of the Akeida, in this week’s portion, Parashat Vayera, and we reread it on Rosh Hashanah. We deal with it again and again throughout the days of repentance and Yom Kippur. Each time when we meet the drama, we stand in awe and face the layers of the pain-stricken truth of the narrative in an attempt to remind God and man what Abraham was willing to sacrifice but that hereafter we will have no more human sacrifice.
Shabbat Shalom.