From the Binding of Isaac to October 7

As antisemitism once again rises with alarming intensity across the globe, we must hold fast to a fundamental truth: those who threaten the Jewish people wield power only by the will of the Almighty.

This week’s Torah portion, Vayera, recounts one of the most dramatic moments in all of scripture. G-d commands Abraham to take his beloved son Isaac and offer him as a sacrifice. Abraham obeys, preparing the altar with trembling devotion. As he raises the knife over his bound child, a voice calls from heaven to stop him, and a ram caught in the thicket is offered in Isaac’s stead.

The image of the knife poised at Isaac’s throat captures the fragile precariousness of life itself. In an instant, everything we love and live for can hang in the balance. Yet Abraham, though surely tormented by the thought of losing the son he had awaited his entire life with Sarah, did not lose faith. His trust in G-d was so complete that even in this moment of supreme anguish, he believed in the righteousness of G-d’s plan. He knew that divine justice would prevail, even if human understanding could not grasp it.

Throughout Jewish history, we have stood in that same moment—living with the knife at our collective throat. From the binding of Isaac to the bondage of Egypt, to the destruction of our Temples, to the pogroms and the horrors of the Holocaust, and even to the tragic events of October 7, when evil once again struck at our people, we have felt that blade. Yet each time, when all hope seemed lost, G-d held us in His hands. He shielded us from utter destruction, guided us back to life, and renewed our people’s covenant. That is why we are still here today—because G-d’s promise endures, His love protects, and His purpose for the Jewish people remains eternal.

To be Jewish in this world often feels like reliving Abraham’s test—facing hostility, envy, and falsehoods that never seem to fade. Today’s haters, thriving on attention and arrogance, resurrect the same ancient conspiracies. They blame Jews for imagined crimes, twist isolated actions into collective guilt, and seethe with resentment toward Jewish achievement. With poisonous speech and self-righteous fury, they sharpen the knife once again at our throats.

But their power is an illusion. No evil can advance without divine consent. When we return to G-d in repentance and faith, His mercy can stay the knife, just as it did for Isaac. And when the Jewish people act with righteousness, that knife is turned instead upon the ram—the symbol of paganism and evil itself—caught by its own horns in the thicket. The true sacrifice becomes the evildoers, trapped by the hatred they themselves have sown, ensnared in the thicket of hell.

This is not to assign blame to the victim bound upon the altar but to remind us of our enduring strength. We are not powerless. By walking in G-d’s ways and upholding His commandments, we transform the sacrifice of flesh into the offering of the heart—replacing pain with purpose, despair with faith, and suffering with sanctity.

As scripture teaches, the angel of G-d called to Abraham from the heavens: “Do not raise your hand against the boy or do anything to him, for now I know that you fear G-d” (Genesis 22:12). The message endures through time: G-d does not seek our destruction. He seeks our reverence, our love, and our devotion to His word. If we live by that faith—as Abraham did—no antisemite, no tyrant, and no darkness will prevail over the people of Israel, for the guardianship of the Almighty stands forever.