Torah blog of the week: the ultimate test

Shalom everyone! I hope that last week's parsha post found you well and provided you with as much inspiration as the parsha itself provided me with. This week's parsha is parshas Vayeira, the second half of Avraham's journey, a journey that culminates with what is considered in the Jewish tradition to be the ultimate test: the akeidah, the binding of Isaac.

The way the narrative goes, G-d appeared to Avraham and told him to take Isaac, his son, to the land of Moriah where he was to offer him up as a sacrifice on one of the mountains that G-d would show him. In a literary sense, we can now see what G-d meant at the beginning of parshas Lech Lecha when He told Avraham to leave everything behind and go to a land that He would show him; this was the end of Avraham's journey, the pinnacle of all he had worked for. What G-d was essentially telling Avraham to do was to take everything that he had stood and worked for, bind it upon the alter, and give it all up. It was the ultimate form of self-sacrifice. We see that Avraham was ready to follow through on G-d's request; he brought Isaac up to the top of Mount Moriah where he prepared him for the sacrifice. Avraham, however, never did physically sacrifice his son. An angel of G-d came and prevented him from carrying the act out. An interesting question arises from this statement: if Avraham didn't actually sacrifice Isaac in the end, then why did the angel say that he did not withhold his son? One could say that he was prepared to give it all up, yet then the verse could have easily said "since you would not have withheld your son from Me." In order to answer this question, we must first look at the examples of Avraham's previous sacrifices.

The first sacrifice that Avraham made to G-d was in the Plain of Moreh. G-d appeared to Avraham and told him that He would give the land to his (Avraham's) offspring. The second sacrifice was given in Bethel. Avraham built an alter and made a sacrifice there without G-d's appearing to him; he invoked G-d and was able to prophetically see a future sin that his descendents would commit there. A third alter was then built in Hebron, the city in which the Patriarchs and Matriarchs (with the except of Rachel) would be buried. It was a sacrifice that was purely out of love for G-d. These three alters parallel the three basic forms of Temple sacrifice: the peace offering to "inspire" G-d to provide us with sustenance (G-d telling Avraham that He will give Avraham the land), the sin offering to atone for transgressions (the future transgression of Avraham's descendents), and an ascent offering to express love for G-d (Hebron). Indeed, we see another sacrifice after these three that both alludes to and supports the idea of future Temple sacrifice. Let's see how they all finally culminate in the binding of Isaac.

I said before that Avraham never did physically sacrifice Isaac, but this does not mean that he did not spiritually. The moment that Avraham raised the knife to slaughter his son, he had killed him in his heart. He was merely moments away from actualizing this sacrifice, yet was prevented from doing so. What took Isaac's place? There was a ram that Avraham found caught in the thicket by its horns. Symbolically, Avraham took the sacrifice of Isaac and enclothed it within an animal. From then on, sacrifice took on a completely new meaning, as a stand-in offering where we should really be. The type of sacrifice that is required of us, though, is not physical; G-d showed this to us through the akeidah. Rather, G-d suddenly asked of humanity to push itself beyond its limits in order to do what was right, to give up the blindness of idolatry and embrace the brilliant all-embracing light of G-d. This new recontextualization of sacrifice was realized in its full potential with the building of the Temple in Jerusalem. (It's interesting to note that the Temple was built at the very location that Avraham bound Isaac).

The Temple, however, with all of its glory and daily sacrifices, is gone, a recollection of the past. So then the million dollar question is "how does this all apply to me today?" We pray. After the destruction of the Second Temple, prayer became a replacement for sacrifice. When we pray, we are supposed to offer up the animal inside of us; our pride, envy, anger, hate, arrogance, all of the things that characterize a symbolic idolatry. When a person has these negative feelings, they are consumed within themselves, so much so that they could forget about G-d and think that they are the only thing that matters in this world. Prayer forces us to step outside of and to recognize something greater than ourselves. It keeps us in check with whats real, that we're all connected, that G-d cares about what happens in our lives, and that true change is possible.

Although this view of prayer is incredibly beautiful, it isn't the end result of sacrifice. For two thousand years, the Jewish people have yearned to return to the land of Israel. I can tell you from the personal experience of living here for several months the truth of that statement. Reality is more tangible here. You're aware of more things in life. I'm a half hour walk from the Western Wall, the site where the Temples stood and where the akeidah took place. You can experience G-d's presence here a bit more than anywhere else. The main reason why so many Jewish people throughout history have had this yearning is for the day when the daily sacrifice will resume, when the Third Temple, a house of prayer for all the nations, will be built, when the world will come together to praise, to labor, and to love together. Today, we may be seperate and scattered physically and spiritually, yet tomorrow, all of humanity will be truly united. Until that time, let's try to emulate tomorrow today in our thought, speech, and action; in our interactions with people and the way that we decide to live our lives. Once we start doing that, then we'll truly be able to finish the work that Avraham started thousands of years ago. May we see it speedily in our days.
With all my love,
Zach