“Testing”
The word
“test” causes a visceral reaction in us.
Are we prepared? Will we pass or
fail? How well will we do? So we can expect to have a visceral reaction
to this morning’s Torah portion which begins, “And after these things, God
tested Abraham…”
Are there
any words in the Torah which have been studied, argued, defended, attacked, explicated,
justified and agonized over more than those of Chapter 22 of the book of
Genesis? The God that Abraham has worshipped and loved for decades, and who finally
fulfilled his and Sarah’s desire for a son now tells Abraham to take that son
to Mt. Moriah for a sacrificial offering.
And without hesitation, Abraham complies. Is this a statement of Abraham’s faith or of
his zealotry? When does enough become
too much? Did Abraham pass God’s test, or did he fail it?
“And it
came to pass, after these things…” What things?
A Midrash says that God was bragging to Satan about his faithful
Abraham. “Why shouldn’t he be faithful”,
said Satan, “You have given him land and position and sons. Test him, and see if his faith holds.” “And after these things, God tested
Abraham”. Another Midrash suggests that
it was a conversation between Ishmael and Isaac that spurred the test. Ishmael says that, at the time of their
circumcisions, Isaac was an infant, and could not choose to partake in the
mitzvah, but Ishmael, being thirteen years old, was able to submit willingly. Isaac replies, “You are talking about one
organ, one foreskin. If God wanted my
whole body, I would gladly offer it.”
“And after these things, God tested Abraham.” When dealing with God, perhaps it is best to
be careful with one’s words.
Although we
are told at the outset that God is testing Abraham, isn’t Isaac also being
tested? By the time he asks his father
where the lamb for the sacrifice is and receives Abraham’s cryptic reply, we
can assume that he might suspect that he is the sacrifice, and yet he gives no
complaint or struggle, neither on the way to the mountain, nor as Abraham
builds the altar and binds Isaac to it.
Abraham, too, seems unnaturally calm.
The Zohar, a medieval mystical text, suggests that as Abraham built the
altar, he had a vision of Jacob, Isaac’s son, and knew that, somehow, Isaac
would live to fulfill God’s promise of a line of descendants. And the commentator Malbim reasons that
Abraham was so closely spiritually connected to God that he sensed that this
command, to sacrifice his son, was not truly God’s desire.
The
denouement comes; Abraham’s hand is stopped at the last possible moment by the
urgent voice of an angel. Isaac is
released from the altar and a ram with its horns caught in a thicket becomes
the sacrifice instead. God reiterates
His blessing upon Abraham and his descendants and the whole thing is over. Or is it?
Everyone
walks away from the binding of Isaac, but they each walk in different
directions. Abraham goes back to his
servants and on to Beersheva. We are not
told what happens to Isaac, but it is clear that he did not go to Beersheva
with his father and the others. One
midrashic tradition has it that Abraham sent him to the school of Shem and Eber
to study Torah. In any case, this
episode is the last time that the Bible in which Abraham and Isaac exchange
words. At the outset of the next
chapter, we are informed of Sarah’s death, and Abraham must go to from
Beersheva to Hebron, a considerable
distance, which would seem to indicate that she and Abraham had not been living
in the same place. And even though
Abraham lives for some years longer, remarries and has several more children,
the Bible records no further evidence that God and Abraham ever spoke to each
other again. And every year, when we
read this portion on Rosh Hashanah, I ask myself, “What can we gain from this
story? What can it teach us about
dealing with God and with humans? When
we are facing a choice between what we want and what God is calling us to do,
how can the story of the binding of Isaac give us any clarity?
I gained
some guidance thinking, not about people, but in the way some gifted people
train some very gifted animals – guide dogs for the blind. The dogs, of course, are taught to guide
blind people to walk without human assistance to give them greater mobility and
independence. They are taught to avoid
obstacles and they are taught to follow the commands given them by their trainer
and by the guide dog user. But they are
also taught something that it is remarkable an animal can understand. They are taught intelligent
disobedience. They are taught that, if
they have been given a command to do something unsafe because their blind
person could not see the danger, that they are to refuse to follow that command.
How might
it have been if Abraham had responded to God in the language of intelligent
disobedience? How would this story have
worked out if he had said, “God, I know that You have given me everything that
I have. I know that I owe everything to
You. I know that parents sometimes see
their children die and somehow survive it, but do not ask me to sacrifice my
beloved Isaac by my own hand, even for Your sake. That is too much. It will cause irreparable harm to him, to me,
to my wife and to my relationship with You.” What kind of a model would we have then? Would it be better to follow God’s perceived
will to our own destruction, or to speak up and give the story a different
ending?
There is no
better or worse in this case. Each of us
must act according to our own nature, in our own time and in our own
culture. There are some tests that are neither
passed nor failed. Some tests simply take
the measure of who and what we are. Abraham
was a man of perfect faith, and his decision to follow God’s will with a whole
heart brought him whatever consequences it did.
If I were faced with such a situation, I would want to take all my
knowledge, my experience, my faith and my questions together and, if necessary,
use intelligent disobedience.
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