Rosh Hashanah and the Akedah

אבינו מלכינו, , we say, hear our voice.

אבינו מלכינו, we say, have compassion on us.

אבינו מלכינו, we say, please, let the new year be a good year.[1]

When we hear the haunting tune written by 20th century composer Max Janowski we know that we are pleading, begging, for the possibility of next year. We pray for a year full of laughter and love, a year of meaningful work and devoted family, a year of health and happiness. We prostrate ourselves in the hope that we will see another year’s worth of holidays. We humble ourselves to inspire God’s compassion.

אבינו מלכינו, we say, inscribe us in the Book of Life.[2]

But, is there ever a time when we would willingly relinquish our inscription in the book? Is there anything important enough to justify our certain and speedy deaths? Are there absolutes in life that we say, “no matter the consequence, I will not give in”?

It’s scary to acknowledge, but the Torah tells us that the answer is “yes.” Yes, there are things that we face where the right answer is one that ultimately ends in death. That compliance can cause us to come face to face with the dangerous end of a knife. That unshakable faith in God sometimes ends in martyrdom. That with the existence of free will, the right choice isn’t always the easy choice.

Today, of all days, we are reminded of this. While we plead with God for our lives, we read the story of how one of our forefathers nearly lost theirs at God’s command. We are wrapped, bound even, to the ancient drama of the Akedah, where Isaac’s fate was less than certain. How does our tradition justify the peril to which he was exposed? What absolutes are present in the Akedah that demanded the sacrifice of Isaac?

One possible answer the rabbis provide us with is obedience. Each character exhibited immeasurable obedience throughout this ordeal. Abraham follows God’s command to ולך־לך אל־ארץ המריה והעלהו שם לעלה,[3] to go and offer Isaac as a sacrifice. On their journey to Moriah, Isaac asks his father איה השה לעלה,[4] where is the lamb to sacrifice, but continues on the trip without a definite answer. Sarah, Abraham’s wife and Isaac’s mother, says nothing at all -- she isn’t even mentioned! -- and thus allows events to unfold without her interference. Each one demonstrating perfect obedience in their own way.

But it goes deeper than that. Rambam tells us that God used Abraham in order to show the world how far one must go in service of God. The “test” that God subjects Abraham means to “teach man what he ought to do or believe.”[5] In this way Abraham, the original patriarch of the Jewish people, serves as our ultimate example of obedience. He is commanded לך-לך! Go! And so, Abraham goes, no questions asked.

So then how do we deal with Isaac, who does ask questions? “Where is the lamb to sacrifice?” Isaac asks his father. We have come all this way and we have nothing to offer to God. Abraham responds אלוהים יראה־לו השה,[6] God will provide lamb. Unsatisfied, midrash expands Abraham’s answer: “My son,” he says, “God has provided you as the lamb for the burnt offering.”[7] And while, any of us might have heard this and ran Isaac is completely submissive. He tells his father “bind my two hands, bind my two feet, so that I do not curse you...from fear of the violence or from the dread of death.”[8] Isaac completely surrenders, believing himself to be in full compliance with the commandment to honor his father.[9]

Yet, as shocking as Isaac’s midrashic response is, Philo provides one even more jarring -- jarring because in Philo’s interpretation Sarah does not only permit Isaac’s sacrifice, she laughs. Sarah is overjoyed at the sacrifice of her son. When Sarah was old and barren, she heard the prophecy of Isaac’s impending birth and laughed. According to Philo, she reacted the same way to Isaac’s impending death. She is honored to give her son, her only son, her miracle son, to God.

Despite all of this, I remain unsatisfied. For me, the idea that complete and total obedience is worth losing one’s life sets a dangerous precedent, allowing ethics and morality to play a secondary role to divine command. Therefore, we must delve deeper into the teachings of our tradition to find validation for the Akedah, and in doing so we come to our second possible answer: unwavering faith.

Genesis Rabbah tells us that when they approached Mount Moriah, only Abraham and Isaac were able to see it.[10] Unlike the father and son who were nothing but faithful, the two servants that accompanied them were blind to God’s presence on the mount. Many commentators, in fact, believe that it was only due to Abraham’s faith, to his complete devotion to God, that this whole situation existed at all. Radak believed that Abraham’s faith was so complete that he could even have been a prophet, explaining that God’s command came to Abraham in a dream as a divine revelation.[11] For him, the entire purpose of the Akedah is to demonstrate to all subsequent generations the depth of Abraham’s love for, and devotion to, God. Why else would a God who already knows the results decide to “test” Abraham?[12]

Radak is not the only one to come to this conclusion. Rashi also comments the extent of Abraham’s faith, saying that his inclination to respond הנני to both God[13] and Isaac[14] is because Abraham is a pious man.[15] Like other pious individuals, responding הנני to a call is a sign of humility and readiness, both important components to faith. According to Abravanel, Abraham’s piety allowed all of existence to reap the benefits Abraham and Isaac’s ultimate test, and use it as an example by which to live. Earlier in Genesis, God promised that Abraham’s descendants would become great in number and overflowing with blessing.[16] However, it was Isaac’s willingness to commit his whole body and soul to God that affirmed God’s promise, therefore sealing our covenant with God. In that way, God’s נסה, test, also served as a נס, a standard for all of humanity for follow.

Both father and son knew that completing God’s test would be painful,[17] and yet they were both ready to meet the challenge, if not for their sake then for ours. Abraham and Isaac knew in their heart of hearts that the test had a purpose, even if it wasn’t immediately obvious. They believed that God had a purpose and were willing to see where their faith took them, which, thankfully, was not to Isaac’s death.

Still, despite the so-called “happy ending” of the Akedah, I remain unsatisfied. Our world is one based on rational thought, on the process of logic and reasoning. I struggle to find comfort with the lack of questioning necessary for complete obedience or absolute faith. I need to see some sort of conversation, either between Abraham and God, or between Abraham and Isaac or even between Abraham and his own moral compass. In order for me to accept the Akedah as proof that there are indeed some things worth dying for, I need to see that Abraham and Isaac had a choice when it was necessary. I need there to be the possibility of free will.

Midrash provides us with a small conversation between Abraham and God. When God tells Abraham קח־נא את־בנך, take your son, Abraham responds, “I don’t understand. Which son? I have two sons, Isaac and Ishmael.” God clarifies, את־יחידך, your only son. Abraham is still confused. “My only son? Ishmael is the only son of Hagar and Isaac is the only son of Sarah, but both are my sons.” אשר־אהבת, God says, the one whom you love.” Whom I love?” says Abraham. “I love both of them.” את־יצחק,[18] God finally specifies. Take Isaac.[19] The midrash tells us that it is because Abraham pitied Isaac that he pushed back against God’s command. However, is this really a show of free will? To me, it doesn’t seem as though Abraham made a choice in the end. It only looks like he lost the argument.

So now, Rashi takes up the possibility of free will. Why did God wait three days to show Abraham Mount Moriah, he asks. So that no one might say that Abraham was confused with his task.[20] According to Rashi, Abraham spent that three-day journey considering what God was really asking of him. By the third day, Abraham must have known that going through with the command would also mean killing his son. Therefore, it must mean that Abraham made the choice to go through with it.

In his philosophic work Sefer Ha-ikkarim, Joseph Albo adds, “Praise or blame cannot be attached to an action that one is forced to do but only of one that is the result of absolutely free choice.” If we are to laud or condemn Abraham’s actions then we must also understand that Abraham, by choosing not to question God’s command, chose to prioritize his love of God over his love of Isaac. And while we here today might not have made that same choice, in this way we know that at least there was choice involved. In the case of the Akedah, we are given no reason to believe Abraham was under threatened or under anyone’s influence. Therefore, we may believe that his was fully capable of making his choice according to his own will.

Rabbi Abraham Isaac Kook attributes Abraham’s free will to his monotheistic beliefs. He says, “The absolute self-surrender characteristic of idolatry in which primitive man found his be-all and end-all...springs from an inner hidden conviction that the Divine is more precious than anything else” (Leibowitz,[21] 204). Abraham lived in a world filled with idolatry, and yet he was still able to make the choice to believe in one God and only one God. That essential choice led the way for many, many more, including the choice of whether or not to sacrifice Isaac.

Still, using free will as a justification for divinely sanctioned death feels a little like saying “because I can.” It still feels like a cop out, no matter how many smart rabbis say otherwise. It is possible that I’m extra sensitive today, a day when tradition tells us that all our lives are at risk. But I want real answers. If I don’t make it to next Rosh Hashanah, will it be because I wasn’t obedient enough? Because I wasn’t faithful enough? Because I didn’t exercise enough of my free will?

Is there actually something I would be willing to give up my spot in this year’s edition of Book of Life for? Maybe love? Maybe country? Maybe even freedom?

Part of me hopes so. Part of me hopes that there is something in my life that I’d be willing to sacrifice everything for. And part of me knows that life is an incredibly high price to pay for anything. We look out into the world and see what happens when people prioritize any number of things over the precious gift of life. Religious fanatics end their life and the lives or others in order realize their understanding of God’s will. People who feel deeply betrayed by the continued existence of racism, sexism or homophobia exact vengeance with violence. The need for international superiority leads to drawn out and bloody wars. So many crimes and atrocities are committed because the perpetrators believed that there was indeed something more important than life.

I suppose it’s up to each of us to make that decision for ourselves. The blessing of our modern world is that it is multi-vocal. Those who erase themselves from the Book of Life don’t have to erase our names as well. We can exercise our free will, one way or the other. But, while you are making your decision, I urge you to remember one thing: in the end Abraham did not sacrifice his son. After the Akedah, Isaac went on to live a long life. He went on to create a legacy, one that endures in us. As we say, אבינו מלכינו, we are pleading for God to inscribe us all in the Book of Life. Do not let this year be the end of Abraham and Isaac’s legacy. Choose life. And let that be a blessing for us all.

[1] Gates of Repentance, p. 121

[2] Gates of Repentance, p. 122

[3] Genesis 22:2

[4] Genesis 22:7

[5] Guide 3:24

[6] Genesis 22:8

[7] Pirkei d’R. Eliezer 31

[8] Pirkei d’R. Eliezer 31

[9] Exodus 20:12

[10] Genesis Rabbah 56:2

[11] Radak on Genesis 22:1

[12] Radak on Genesis 22:1

[13] Genesis 22:1

[14] Genesis 22:7

[15] Rashi on Genesis 22:1

[16] Genesis 12:2

[17] Rashbam on Genesis 22:1

[18] Genesis 22:2

[19] Pirkei d’R. Eliezer 31

[20] Rashi on Genesis 22:4

[21] Leibowitz, Nehama, and Aryeh Newman. Studies in Bereshit (Genesis): In the Context of Ancient and Modern Jewish Bible Commentary. Jerusalem: Eliner Library, Joint Authority for Jewish Zionist Education, Dept. for Torah Education and Culture in the Diaspora, 1995. Print.