Vayera: Asking Faithfully
When G-d asks Avraham to sacrifice his son, he does not ask questions. Tanach tells us that G-d puts him to the test, calling out his name and Avraham answering הנני, ‘here I am’ (Gen. 22:1), unquestioning in his faith and commitment to doing what G-d asks of him. He tells Avraham to take his favourite, beloved son to the mountain of Moriah and offer him as a burnt sacrifice. There is no question, no shock, no surprise in the biblical text. Avraham appears passive; the parasha merely tells us that the next morning he saddles his donkey, takes his son and two servants, and embarks on the hardest test of the ten: sacrificing the son he and his wife waited decades for.
As father and son approach the top of the mountain, however, a question does come. It is not Avraham who poses it, but Yitzchak. In a parallel of the dialogue between G-d and Avraham at the beginning of this perek, Yitzchak calls out אבי, ‘my father’, to which Avraham answers הנני בני, ‘here I am, my son’ (Gen 22:7). Instead of an instruction as in the earlier dialogue, Yitzchak asks his father where the sheep for the offering is, clearly confused but believing that his father has a plan and that he knows the answer. Avraham’s very presence – his declaration of הנני, a word which becomes so associated with him due to how many times he uses it – is proof of the certainty of his character and of the belief at its core. Avraham knows that G-d must have a purpose behind His unusual request, and his response to his son shows this; he says that ‘it is G-d who will see to the sheep for this burnt offering’ (Gen. 22:8). He answers his son’s question with his own lack of questions, but for the reader this pasuk – the entire Akedah episode in fact – raises so many questions. How is it that Avraham can, without any apparent show of emotion, tie is son down and prepare to sacrifice him? How can his son blindly agree to it, allowing a knife to be raised above his head without showing fear? The only way we can try to understand these very human questions is to investigate the text further, looking to the midrashim in Bereshit Rabbah and Midrash Tanchuma Vayera to deepen its detail and illuminate its shadows.[1]
Avraham’s apparent apathy as he prepares to sacrifice his son is, on the surface of the biblical text, quite disturbing. Tanach betrays no emotion, and from a human perspective it is perplexing. The Sages writing in Bereshit Rabbah seek to understand this, noting that as Yitzchak asks his question the word ‘father’ is repeated twice, the text reading ויאמר יצחק אל-אברהם אביו ויאמר אבי, ‘And Yitzchak said to his father Avraham, “father”’ (Gen. 22:7). According to the midrash, this repetition creates emphasis and emotionally engages Avraham ‘so that he should be filled with mercy for [his son]’, something which injects some humanity and feeling into how we read the biblical text.[2] It goes on to discuss Yitzchak’s binding, responding to the matter-of-fact way in which it is portrayed – there is no resistance from Yitzchak, something which stands in complete contrast to the fear that he must be feeling as he comes to understand that he is the sacrifice. The midrash adds dialogic texture and detail to the parasha to try and understand this, stating that when Avraham goes to bind his son, Yitzchak responds with the following words –
אבא בחור אני וחוששני שמא יזדעזע גופי מפחדה של סכין ואצערך ושמא תפסל השחיטה ולא תעלה לך לקרבן אלא כפתני יפה יפה
Father, I am a young man, and I am concerned that my body will tremble due to fear of the knife, and I will [thereby] upset you, or perhaps the slaughter [thereby] will be rendered unfit and it will not be counted for you as a valid offering. Therefore, bind me very well.[3]
This extensive dialogic addition allows the reader to understand Yitchak’s actions in Vayera. In parallel with the divine narrative of Tanach, which is in no way contradicted, the midrash allows us to see Yitzchak’s trepidation and fear alongside his willingness to follow his father and his unwavering belief in G-d’s words and wishes. His conflicting emotions are ‘exemplified by the midrash’s use of the word “tremble”, reflecting both [Yitzchak’s] fear for himself and his fear that the sacrifice will become invalid’ in a way which would mean Avraham has not done fulfilled his promise to G-d.[4] By questioning the text’s apathy and reading between the lines, all the while holding firm in the original text, the midrash is able to bring a human dimension to the narrative, helping us to understand Yitzchak’s character and emotional motivations better. He overcomes his own fears and allows himself to be bound to the altar, a narrative expansion which Midrash Tanchuma Vayera concurs with. In this separate interpretation, the rabbis write that ‘immediately an overpowering fear and violent trembling seized [Yitzchak], for when he saw nothing to be sacrificed, he realised what was about to transpire’.[5] It is because of this that he questions his father and accepts his answer, something which is reflected in how Tanach states that ‘the two of them walked on together’ (Gen. 22:8), the two men sharing the same motivation – to serve G-d, whatever He asks. Midrash Tanchuma Vayera also adds further detail to the act of the binding itself, stating that ‘[Yitzchak] cried out: “Father, bind my hands and feet, for the will to live is strong within me, and when I see the knife descending, I may tremble and the offering may become defective (as a result of the knife slipping). I implore you not to make me a blemished offering”’, a reading which parallels perfectly both with Bereshit Rabbah and the plain meaning of the parasha.[6]
The midrashim also address Avraham’s behaviour and emotions as they try to understand the biblical scene in more detail and the questions raised by the characters’ problematic emotional conduct. Delving deeper into the text, Bereshit Rabbah suggests that, rather than apathetically going through the motions of sacrifice, Avraham, too, feels great conflicting emotion as he attempts to fulfil G-d’s commands. The midrash states that ‘as he extended his hand to take the knife, his eyes were emitting tears and the tears were falling into [Yitzchak’s] eyes, because of the father’s mercy [for his son]’, a reading which suggests that, whilst ‘his heart was joyful in fulfilling the will of his Creator’, he feels and struggles with the deep pain one would expect or imagine to feel when asked to sacrifice something as beloved as a child.[7] Avraham is devoted to G-d and to his son, and it his emotional response in conflict with his actions detailed in the midrashim on Vayera that allows us to satisfy our very real questions as readers, and truly understand why this test was the final test and the hardest one of all.
Midrash, with its ability to faithfully ask questions of the text and respond to them, has shown itself to be invaluable when it comes to trying to understand this week’s parasha. Without the deeper detail which Bereshit Rabbah and Midrash Tanchuma Vayera offer, no reader could possibly be able to understand – or even approach understanding – how it is that Avraham and Yitzchak are able to experience this episode in Tanach without it affecting their relationship going forward. The midrashic exploration of emotion and characterisation enrich our understanding of Vayera in a beautiful way, regardless of whether you are approaching it from a religious or critical perspective. What is also beautiful is that this deeper understanding is borne from the very act of questioning which the Sages undertake. It is, in many ways, something which is unique to Judaism – the myriad of discussions in the Talmud, the act of chavruta and chaburah learning, even the joke that with two jews you get three opinions. Questioning is deeply embroidered into the fabric of our being, and it is uniquely Judaic that it is not suppressed but encouraged. In Vayera, Yitzchak questions his father about the Akedah at the same time that he is certain that he is rightly following G-d’s commandments. One does not negate the other, and the midrashim we have explored here show that he is able to remain human whilst continuing in his commitment to G-d. In the same way, if we, as our sages before us, are able to ask questions and deepen our understanding of the text through interpretation whilst remaining certain in our foundational faith and the beliefs which bind us to the Torah, we can create an even deeper relationship with our foundational principles, with those that came before us, and with G-d Himself.
This week’s article is dedicated to אביבה מיכל שרח בת אברהם אבנו
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[1] Some aspects of this article are adapted from my MPhil thesis. Nessya Kamhi, ‘Visual Aggadah: Film as a Modern Iteration of Midrash in the Jewish Oral Tradition’, (MPhil Thesis, University of Cambridge, 2024)
[2] Bereshit Rabbah 56:4
[3] Bereshit Rabbah 56:8
[4] Kamhi, ‘Visual Aggadah’, pg.17
[5] Midrash Tanchuma Vayera 23:3
[6] Midrash Tanchuma Vayera 23:4
[7] Genesis Rabbah 56:8
