Rabbi's Sermons

Shabat Shalom,

In Sephardic and Eastern communities, during the religious services of Rosh Hashana, a Piyut or poem reads as follows: “This is the moment the doors will be opened, the day on which my palms will bow before God, please remember on this day of trial, the one who sacrifices, the sacrificed and the altar”. This very long poem written by Rabbi Yehuda Eben Abas, is sung before the sounds of the Shofar during the Musaf service. Rabbi Eben Abbas interweaves a number of Midrash stories that were written from the story of the Akedat Itzhak - Genesis chapter 22 of this week's portion - Parashat Vaera.

Many of these Midrashim come to complement a large number of “information gaps” about this extraordinary event, which is recorded in only nineteen verses. The vast majority of these stories intend to tell us the events behind this story, behind the scenes. The thoughts, emotions, sensations, fears, hope of all the heroes involved in this shocking story of our people: Abraham, Isaac, the servants, the ram, the angel, that divine voice that is always heard in the moments less expected, and of course, Sara, who in this story is far and away from the stage lights.

In this poem, a conversation between Abraham and Sara is described, as well as Isaac's farewell words with his mother, and the terrible ending in which Isaac asks his father to take his remaining ashes of his cremated body to Sara, his mother: “קַח עִמְּךָ הַנִּשְׁאָר מֵאֲפְרִי; וְאֱמֹר לְשָׂרָה זֶה לְיִצְחָק רֵיחַ - Take with you what is left of my ashes and tell Sara this is the smell of Izthak”. From the moment that Abraham and Itzhak arrive at Mount Moria, the moments of anguish, emotion, suspense that surround the poem to its final lines, are described. Heavenly angels cry of despair, asking for Divine mercy, as in a classic Netflix series, just when Abraham's hand is on top, with the knife ready to penetrate Itzhak's chest, a clear voice intervenes, that calls him twice, asking him not to continue.

I can understand the terrible and even gloomy spirit of the poem’s texts, which have not been integrated into the Machzor prayer books in the liberal communities and used during religious services. However, you may understand the emotions impregnated with the pain and suffering of Rabbi Yehuda Eben Abas’s poem, a sadness that can almost be felt, considering that he wrote it shortly after his 18-year-old son Samuel converted to Islam.

The story of Akedat Izthak begins by telling: "And it came to pass after these things, that God tested Abraham" Genesis 22:1, if so, why do we call this story Akedat Itzhak? If in fact, it is the “Abraham Faith Test”? Why did the sage focus on Itzhak, who, according to what is written, still could not hear the divine voice? It is not Itzhak that receives the indications of what needs to be done, nor does he pass such a difficult test! The sages wrote Midrashim to interpret almost every word, every moment! "וַיֹּאמֶר קַח נָא אֶת בִּנְךָ אֶת יְחִידְךָ אֲשֶׁר אָהַבְתָּ, אֶת יִצְחָק - Take now thy son, thine firstborn, whom thou lovest, Isaac", only out of these 11 words, many books have been written! Wouldn’t it be easier to say for instance "Take Isaac"? Why was it necessary to climb up four levels? From here, for example the Midrash Bereshit Raba 39:9 tells us the following story:

- God said: Take your son

- Abraham replied: Why God? Besides, I have two sons…

- God answered: Your firstborn

- Abraham replied: Oh my God please don't! Besides, both are firstborn... one Hagar´s and the other Sara´s.

- God said: The one you love!

- Abraham answered: Creator of the world I beg you please! How could I choose if I love them both...

- God finally said: Itzhak! And take him for sacrifice.

So begins the drama, which, according to Midrash, continues while preparing only the logs for the fire, the knife and the lighting stone, without carrying any sacrificial animal. Every detail takes the reader to the depths of Abraham´s heart, with the idea that the most terrible thing can happen. Even Itzhak's questions along the way, torment Abraham on a three-day road! Then raising an altar, something that takes several hours, preparing the logs, asking your son to go up to the altar to be sacrificed... Then taking his hand to the knife, raising the hand, all in a very slow motion... It's as if the text would keep us in suspense and try to win another moment, another second, another opportunity!

At this time, it is no longer Abraham's belief that he is on trial, but that of Itzhak. Abraham's faith is already 100% proven. Curiously, Itzhak in the Torah is mentioned as נער - Naar - Young, when, according to the simple calculations within the texts, he was already 37 years old! So, why does the Torah call him Naar? It is not the only incident of that kind: Joshua is called Naar in the book of Exodus 2, and later in Ch. 33. Also when Pharaoh's daughter finds the basket with Moses in it, it is written that she met a crying Naar, although he was only 3 months old. Itzhak is 37 years old! It would be very easy for him to understand his father's intentions long before they reached the final moment. He could have easily released the ropes that bounded him, and said goodbye to his father forever. But, he did not... Itzhak demonstrated an enormous faith in his father, more intense than Abraham in God! Itzhak did not understand that it was a Divine commandment, nor that he had received instructions from a divine voice and he did not know anything about his father's test. Without understanding, Itzhak cooperated with his father, confident that he was doing the right thing. It is actually, Itzhak´s test, that has a greater value than Abraham’s.

“Abraham, Abraham!” And, with that call, Abraham stoped while keeping the knife in the air, and answered "Hineni - Here I am", and the voice from heaven indicated: "Do not extend your hand over the boy, or do anything to him". The story of the Akeda is not the story of the "one that sacrifices, the sacrificed and the altar" as Rabbi Yehuda Eben Abas’s poem, but it is our story. The history of a people that on one hand, is willing to sacrifice almost everything, many times even life itself, the life of young soldiers, as many fathers have done in the last 406 days of war with the enemies of Israel, in order to maintain the country, its faith and tradition, and on the other hand, maintain a constant hope that sustains us even in the most difficult moments. It is worth remembering not only this war, but the terrible moments in the long history of our people: Pogroms, Auto-de-Fe (Inquisition), murders, and the terrible holocaust. Hard survival trials even this very moment...

In one of the recent broadcasts regarding the soldiers fallen, during the current war against Gaza, Lebanon-Hezbollah, Yemen and Iran, I heard a very sad story of a mother, who wrote, using the very same verses from Genesis 22:

² “Now take thy son, thy firstborn, whom you love, Isaac, and send him to the camp, there as a soldier as I will tell you.”

³ And she woke up very early in the morning, and prepared his breakfast, and took with her two neighbors, and Isaac her son; and prepare his bag for war, and he got up, and went to the place he was told.

⁴ On the third day she raised her eyes, and saw the missiles from afar.

⁵ Then she said to her neighbors: Let's wait here, the boy will be there and we will pray, and we will wait.

⁶ Then Isaac called her and said: Mother. And she replied: Hineni - Here I am, my son. And he said to her: Behold there is fire and missiles; I don't know when I'll get back from the front anymore.

⁷ And she replied: God will provide protection, my son. And they chatted together.

⁸ And when he arrived at the place he had been told, his mother raised a prayer, and prepared food, and thought of Isaac her son, that he may not reach any front, any altar...

⁹ And her son extended his hand and took the rifle so he could use it.

¹⁰ Then the angel of Adonai cried out from heaven, and her son was saved, and could call to her mother: Mom? Mom? And she replied: Hineni - Here I am.

¹¹ And Isaac replied: "Please do not worry! I will return back home to Beer Sheva tomorrow".

The story of Akedat Itzhak, teaches us one of the highest values ​​of Judaism: HOPE, with which we always maintain a spirit of optimism. The brilliant and charismatic ex-Primer Minister Golda Meir expressed it very well: "Pessimism is a luxury that no Jew in the world may have". And this, dear friends, is one of the secrets of our survival forever.

Shabbat Shalom

Rabbi David Laor

November 15^th, 2024