And the two of them walked on together.
Twice in the Binding of Isaac, we read these words. When Abraham leaves the servants at the foot of Mount Moriah, he and Isaac continue the journey alone:
"And Abraham took the wood for the sacrifice, and laid it on Isaac, his son. He himself carried the fire and the knife; and the two of them walked on together."
(Genesis 22:6)
The father and son then engage in a brief conversation. It is quite clear from the narrative that the basic situation has not changed; they have not been joined by others, they have not parted company and they are still walking and yet we are told this fact again.
"Then Isaac said to his father Abraham, 'Father!' And he answered: 'Here I am, my son.' And he said: 'I see the fire and the wood; but where is the lamb for the burnt-offering?' Abraham replied: 'God will provide the lamb for the burnt-offering, my son.' And the two of them walked on together."
(Genesis 22:7-8)
V'yeilchu shneichem yachdav.
In a text that is usually so sparse with details, it seems cumbersome that this expression is repeated twice within a few lines. Why do we need to be retold that the two of them walked on together?
This is just the kind of detail that the early Rabbis found most intriguing and upon which they based their Midrashic writing; literature that speculated and innovated to reach new interpretations of the Biblical narrative.
In one such text, Genesis Rabbah, the Rabbis provided an explanation for this doubling up of words by filling in the gaps with a story of a wager between God and Satan.
After God has issued his command to Abraham to sacrifice his own son, Satan tells God that he is sure Abraham will not obey. God is convinced that Abraham will be obedient and they wage a bet with each other. Determined not to lose the bet, Satan then sets off to discourage Abraham from carrying out God's commandment.
"Satan went to the patriarch, Abraham, and rebuked him, saying: 'What is this, Old Man? Have you lost your mind? You are going to kill a son who was given to you at the age of 100?' That is what I am doing,' he replied. And Satan said: 'And if He sets you an even greater test, will you bear it?' 'I will bear it even more so,' Abraham replied. 'Tomorrow He will say to thee, "You are a murderer and you are guilty."' ' Still am I content,' he rejoined."
(Genesis Rabbah 56:4)
When Satan realises that Abraham, fully aware of his undertaking and fully committed to fulfilling God's command, is not going to change his mind readily, he tries his luck trying to scare Isaac into rebellion against the plan.
"He approached Isaac and said: 'Son of an unhappy mother, he goes to slay thee!' 'I accept my fate,' he replied. 'If so,' Satan said, 'shall all those fine tunics which your mother made become a legacy for Ishmael, the hated of her house? 'If a word is not wholly effective, it may yet avail in part; hence it is written: "Then Isaac said to his father Abraham, 'Father!' And he answered: 'Here I am, my son.' And he said: 'I see the fire and the wood; but where is the lamb for the burnt-offering?' Abraham replied: 'God will provide the lamb [and if not] the burnt-offering will be [you], my son.' And the two of them walked off together, one to the slaughter and the other to be slaughtered."
(Genesis Rabbah 56:4)
At first, Satan tries to scare Isaac by revealing the truth to him but Isaac says he already knows. Next, Satan tries to appeal to his sense of pride by suggesting that his rival and brother will inherit all of Isaac's things. While this does not fully convince Isaac to rebel against his father, the Midrash suggests that it is Satan's words that prompt Isaac to question his father about his intentions.
Abraham's response, adapted from the Biblical text, is completely honest. He truly hopes that God will provide an alternative sacrifice but is prepared to fulfil God's command by sacrificing his son if he has to. Isaac, on hearing these words, is reassured and the two continue walking together.
But something is different about this second 'together'.
When the pair first set off together, it is with trepidation, guilt and sorrow on Abraham's part and fear, mistrust and confusion on Isaac's. They are, perhaps, physically walking along together but emotionally and psychology, they are as far apart as they could be.
It is only after their encounters with Satan and their brief but significant interchange that the father and son truly come together in mutual understanding and a sense of joint purpose.
What happened during their encounter with Satan?
I believe that we can understand this encounter with Satan as a metaphor for some kind of internal struggle; an attack of anxiety and doubt that forced both father and son to resolve their internal conflict by letting their opposing inner selves battle it out through role play? We can then infer that this internal struggle gave each of them the chance to re-assert their own position, reflect on the position of the other and to grow empathetically closer?
Perhaps it was these individual encounters with the metaphorical Satan figure that enabled and created such a strong shift that it became necessary to repeat the words, ‘V'yeilchu shneichem yachdav’, but this time in the truest sense of togetherness.
In our Machzor, we read a poem by Jack Reimer that begins:
“Let us ask ourselves hard questions for this is the time for truth.”
(Machzor Ruach Chadashah, p.71)
And it goes on to present us with a series of rhetorical questions that challenge us to reflect on our own behaviour in many ways. One of those questions relates to our home life but it could just as easily relate to our work, our school or our friendship circles.
“Was there a living together and a growing apart?”
V'yeilchu shneichem yachdav.
It is very easy to walk side by side by it is much harder to be side by side!
This is the season of reflection and, through this Midrash, the Akeidah prompts us to reflect on all of our relationships with others. Our relatives, our colleagues, our friends, our classmates, our employees, our neighbours, our fellow congregants.
We are invited to metaphorically struggle with our own Satan and to strive towards a situation in which we can grow closer to our loved ones and, in union, walk on together.
Rabbis Andrew Goldstein and Charles Middleburgh observe:
"Getting closer to God might be the religious person's dream, but getting closer to our fellow men and women, especially those from whom we are estranged, is the prize that may, in its winning, bring us closer to a realisation of God's presence in our lives."
(Andrew Goldstein & Charles Middleburgh, High and Holy Days, p.55)
No comments:
Post a Comment