Ralbag: On Akeidas Yitzchak (The Binding of Isaac)

In accordance with (what is apparently) my custom to hurriedly churn out a blog post on the eve of a holiday, mere hours before its onset, I present to you this post on Akeidas Yitzchak. I also urge you to re-read last year's post on Yom ha'Din and Yom Teruah, and ponder the connection between the two.

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Artwork: Nyx-fleece Ram, by Terese Nielsen

Ralbag: On Akeidas Yitzchak (Binding of Isaac)

Disclaimer: Ralbag's Radical Views

The Ralbag has several views which radically diverge from "mainstream Jewish thought," and which some - most notably, the Rambam - might consider to be heretical. Two of these views show up in the Ralbag's treatment of the Akeidah. 

The first of these radical views has to do with God's Omniscience. In short, the Ralbag holds that God does not have foreknowledge of free will decisions made by human beings.  As one can imagine, this premise has a drastic effect on the Ralbag's reading of Akeidas Yitzchak. Unlike the other meforshim, who are confronted with the question of what it means for Hashem to "test" Avraham Avinu, the Ralbag maintains that the Akeidah was an actual test: Hashem did not know what Avraham would do when confronted with such a commandment, and the only way for Him to find out was to actually issue the command. 

The second radical view involves the difference between the nevuah (prophecy) of Moshe Rabbeinu, and the nevuah of other neviim. I am not too familiar with the details of the Ralbag's view here. Suffice it to say, it appears he holds that Avraham received nevuah in the form of words - not merely visions - and that these words were somewhat ambiguous. Not only that, but the Ralbag learns that Avraham was able to receive nevuah while awake and fully conscious. According to my understanding, the Rambam would vehemently disagree on all three scores, and would say that a navi like Avraham would receive his nevuah in the form of images, and that the meaning of these images would be 100% clear, and that this nevuah would occur while the navi was asleep or in a trance. 

I do not plan on taking up these disagreements between the Ralbag and the other Rishonim in this blog post. This is not the place for such an inquiry, and even if it were, I would not be qualified to conduct it. I am only pointing these things out because I want to make several things clear at the outset: (a) the Ralbag differs in a major way on these major issues, (b) the fact that I write about his views without critiquing them should not be interpreted as an endorsement; (c) do not expect me to assess these views at the present time; and (d) for the purposes of this blog post, we will be working within the Ralbag's premises in order to understand what he holds the Akeidah teaches us.

Having said that, let us now begin.

Avraham's Test

Ralbag begins his commentary with an explanation of the nisayon (test):

The substance of the nisayon - according to my opinion - is that the nevuah came to him in an ambiguous language, namely, that Hashem said to him regarding Yitzchak, "ve'ha'aleihu sham l'olah." 

It is possible for this statement to be understood to mean that he should slaughter [Yitzchak] and make him into an olah (burnt offering) OR that he should "bring him up there" (yaaleihu) to do an olah, in order to educate Yitzchak in avodas Hashem (the service of Hashem). 

Hashem tested him [to see] whether it would be difficult in his eyes to do anything that Hashem commanded him, to the point where he would understand this statement to be other than its straightforward meaning - namely, that he would understand from it that he should bring another olah, rather than sacrifice his son.

In other words, according to the Ralbag, Avraham was deliberately given an ambiguous nevuah: "ha'aleihu sham l'olah." The straightforward meaning of the nevuah was "slaughter your son as a korban olah." If Avraham truly loved Hashem, He would take the commandment at face value, and be willing to sacrifice his precious son, despite the difficulty of the task.

But if his attachment to his son were stronger than his love of Hashem, he would look for a different way to interpret Hashem's instructions, and would end up forcing the reading of "bring your son up onto a mountain to teach him how to bring a korban olah." 

[As an aside, the Ralbag raises the classic question: How could Avraham think that Hashem would command him to slaughter his only son, after promising that Yitzchak would be the source of his progeny? Ralbag answers that since Hashem's promises only come true if the recipients are on the level to merit them, Avraham figured that Yitzchak must have sinned in such a way that he was no longer worthy of this promise being carried out through him.] 

Lo and behold, Avraham passed the test. Not only did he interpret the nevuah according to its straightforward meaning, but he fulfilled the mitzvah with zeal, joy, and alacrity. He got up early in the morning, saddled his own donkey, prepared the wood for the olah, and set out to fulfill the will of his Creator. And when the moment came to slaughter his beloved son, he wasn't plagued with despair and suffering. To the contrary, he was ready to perform the mitzvah with love and gladness - even to the point where he was able to receive the nevuah of the malach (angel) calling out to stop him, while he was awake, which would have been impossible had he been sad, despondent, or in pain.

That, in short, is the Ralbag's account of the Akeidah. Are there questions and problems that remain unanswered? Yes. But this sums up the crux of the sipur (narrative) according to his reading.

The Relevance of the Akeidah for Us

The Akeidah takes on a central role on the day of Rosh ha'Shanah. In addition to reading the Akeidah for the krias ha'Torah (Torah reading) on the second day, we also make repeated references to the Akeidah throughout our tefilos (prayers). One of the most prominent references to the Akeidah can be found at the forefront of the Zichronos (Remembrances) section of the Mussaf prayer:

Remember for us, Hashem, our God, the coveneant, the kindness, and the oath that You swore to our father Avraham on Mount Moriah. Let there appear before You the Akeidah when Avraham, our father, bound Yitzchak, his son, upon the altar and he suppressed his mercy to do Your will wholeheartedly. Therefore, may Your mercy suppress Your anger from upon us, and in Your great good may Your burning anger withdraw from Your people, from Your city, and from Your heritage ... For it is You Who eternally remembers all forgotten things, and there is no forgetfulness before Your Throne of Glory, and may You mercifully remember today the Akeidah of Yitzchak for the sake of his offspring. Blessed are You, Hashem, Who remembers the covenant.

The question is: Why do we recall the Akeidah in pleading for mercy before Hashem? There are many events throughout Torah which we could recall in petitioning Hashem to have mercy. What makes the Akeidah special? 

I would like to offer an answer based on the Ralbag's explanation above. At best, this is a true explanation. But if I am wrong, then this will at least be a useful drush. 

According to the Ralbag, Avraham's essential test was whether he would understand and accept the dvar Hashem (word of God) at face value, or whether he would twist it and reinterpret it to bring it in line with his own desires. This, I submit, is the test we face every day in our relationship with Hashem by our adherence to Torah and mitzvos.

We were given the dvar Hashem at Sinai, as we emphasize at the beginning of the Shofros section:

You were revealed in Your cloud of glory to Your holy people to speak with them. From the heavens You made them hear Your voice and revealed Yourself to them in thick clouds of purity. Moreover, the entire universe shuddered before You and the creatures of creation trembled before You during Your revelation, our King, on Mount Sinai to teach Your people Torah and mitzvos. You made them hear the majesty of Your voice and Your holy utterances from fiery flames. 

Like Avraham, we are called upon by the Torah to obey commandments which run contrary to our desires (usually due to our own imperfections). In some cases the Torah merely pushes us slightly beyond our comfort zone, causing us to experience mild frustration, inconvenience, and unpleasantness. In other cases the Torah's demands cause us to recoil with distaste, anger, frustration, revulsion, or horror. And occasionally, the Torah brings us to the very edge, prompting us to confront those aspects of reality - of the world or ourselves - that fill us with absolute dread and terror. It is only through these "skillful frustrations" that we truly grow, but that fact doesn't mitigate the conflict they generate

Like the ambiguous nevuah received by Avraham, the Torah of Moshe is subject to many interpretations - and consequently, many distortions. And, like Avraham, we can choose to flee rather than submit to Hashem. If we so choose, we can warp the dvar Hashem in accordance with our own preconceived notions and values; we can pick and choose within the halachic system to suit our subjective preferences; we can hastily dismiss, deny, or delegitimize those parts of Torah that do not accord with our sensibilities, without conducting an intellectually honest investigation to see whether our understanding is deficient; or we can cope with the cognitive dissonance in the easy way - by violating the dvar Hashem, whether unintentionally, intentionally, or rebelliously, in a particular or with regards to the system as a whole.

By recalling the Akeidah in our tefilos, we are affirming our recognition of this fundamental human choice: will we bend reality to suit our desires, or will we subdue our desires in order to align ourselves with reality? This is the lesson we were taught by Avraham Avinu when he was put to this test in the ultimate way. Most of us would not be able to pass the test that he underwent, but we recognize the correctness of his decision and we strive to live in accordance with his derech to the extent that we can. 

And it is on that basis that we ask Hashem for mercy. We stand before Him and say: "Hashem - we know that we have committed countless errors and sins, and that by our actions alone, we are not worthy of escaping Your anger. But we are Your people, the children of Your covenant, the children of Avraham, Your beloved, to Whom You swore on Mount Moriah - the offspring of Yitzchak, Your akeidah, who was bound on Your altar. We identify with the derech set forth by our patriarch who passed this ultimate test which we have failed, time and again. We aspire to follow in his footsteps because we see with absolute clarity the uprightness of his path at that fateful event. In light of this recognition and longing on our part, please grant us mercy!" 

In other words, it is because the nisayon of Akeidas Yitzchak encompasses kol ha'Torah kulah (all of Torah in its entirety) that we are able to use it as the basis for beseeching Hashem to forgive us for all of our sins. The Akeidah represents the core of zechus Avraham, and by recalling it, we can tap into that zechus and can change the decree. 

May we all merit the rachamim of the Kadosh Baruch Hu this year, and follow in the footsteps of Avraham Avinu!

Parashas Vaeschanan: Testing God

Parashas Vaeschanan: Testing God

One of the many mitzvos which are presented in this week's parashah is the mitzvah of "lo tenasu es Hashem" ("do not test Hashem"). This mitzvah is introduced in its own little paragraph:

You shall not test Hashem, your God, as you tested Him at Massah. You shall surely observe the commandments of Hashem, your God, and His testimonies and His decrees that He commanded you. You shall do what is fair and good in the eyes of Hashem, so that it will be good for you, and you shall come and possess the good Land that Hashem swore to your forefathers, to thrust away all your enemies from before you, as Hashem spoke (Devarim 6:16-19)

These pesukim raise two questions:

1. Practically speaking, what is this mitzvah commanding us not to do? What does it mean to "test Hashem, as you tested Him at Massah"?
2. What does the rest of this paragraph have to do with testing Hashem? The paragraph begins with an injunction against testing Hashem, but continues with (what seems to be) typical Devarim-themed statements, urging Bnei Yisrael to keep the mitzvos and assuring them that He will take them to the Promised Land.

Thankfully, it is easy to figure out where we should begin: the incident at Massah:

The entire assembly of Bnei Yisrael journeyed from the Wilderness of Sin to their journeys, according to the word of Hashem. They encamped in Rephidim and there was no water for the people to drink. The people contended with Moshe and they said, "Give us water that we may drink!" Moshe said to them, "Why do you contend with me? Why do you test Hashem?" The people thirsted there for water, and the people complained against Moshe, and it said, "Why is this that you have brought us up from Egypt to kill me and my children and my livestock through thirst?" 

Moshe cried out to Hashem, saying, "What shall I do for this people? I bit more and they will stone me!" 

Hashem said to Moshe, "Pass before the people and take with you some of the elders of Israel; and in your hand take your staff with which you struck the River, and go. Behold! - I shall stand before you by the rock in Horeb; you shall strike the rock and water will come forth from it and the people will drink." Moshe did so in the sight of the elders of Israel. He called the place Massah u'Merivah, because of the contention of Bnei Yisrael and because of their test of Hashem, saying, "Is Hashem among us or not?"(Shemos 17:

The Ramban fills us in on the motives behind Bnei Yisrael's complaints, and in doing so, he answers our first question by defining the scope of the prohibition:

The meaning of "as you tested Him at Massah" is that you shouldn't say, "If Hashem is among us [such that He will] perform miracles - or bring us success by satiating us with bread and ensuring our well-being - then when we will keep His Torah!" - for that was the intention [of Bnei Yisrael] there [at Massah]. They saw [fit to reason as follows:] if Hashem would miraculously provide water for them, then they would follow Him in the Wilderness, but if not, they would abandon Him. This was considered to be a major sin on their part, for once it had been verified to them through miracles and wonders that Moshe was Hashem's prophet and that he spoke the word of Hashem in truth, it was wrong for them to perform further tests. A person who does this is not testing the navi, but rather, he is testing Hashem, to know whether His ability is limited. 

For this reason, He prohibited future generations from testing the Torah or the neviim, for it is not proper for a person to serve Hashem in a dubious manner, or to demand a miracle or a test, for it is not Hashem's will to do miracles for every person at every time, and it is not proper to serve Hashem on the condition of receiving reward. Instead, if a person should happen to find pain or suffering in his [divine] service or in his following the paths of the Torah, it is proper for him to accept everything with justice and righteousness - not like the fools of our nation said, "It is useless to serve God! What gain is there for us that we have kept His watch, and that we walk submissively before Hashem, Master of Legions?" (Malachi 3:14).

The mitzvah of lo tenasu prohibits us from doing two things: (1) continuing to test a navi after the authenticity of his nevuah has already been verified, and (2) serving Hashem on the condition that He will reward us - as we see fit. Bnei Yisrael at Massah erred in both regards: they demanded that Moshe Rabbeinu perform a miracle for them, even though his nevuah had been well-established by the numerous miracles in Mitzrayim and at Yam Suf; they also made their service of Hashem contingent on Him "serving" them in a specific manner.

The Ramban continues by explaining what the rest of the paragraph has to do with this lo taaseh:

It is for this reason that the pasuk says here that you shall surely observe His mitzvos (commandments) and His eidos (testimonies) - because they [testify to] the miracles that He did for you in the past, for which they serve as testimonials (e.g. pesach, matzah, sukkah). [Likewise,] "you shall keep His chukim (decrees)" even though you don't know their reasons, for in truth, they will benefit you in the end. There is no need to test the Torah and the mitzvos after you have already verified for yourself that they are from Him (blessed is He) ... 

It is for this reason that [Moshe Rabbeinu] promised that the glory will come in the end, with the inheritance of the Land and victory over the enemies, for this is a great good, and was necessary for that generation. Afterwards he said that even for future generations there is no need for testing in the performance of mitzvos, but rather, they should ask their fathers and their elders who will tell them the truth of the Torah and the mitzvos, as he subsequently explains, "When your son asks you tomorrow, saying, 'What are the eidos, and the chukim, and the mishpatim that Hashem, our God, commanded you?' You shall say to your child, 'We were slaves to Paroh in Mitzrayim, and Hashem took us out of Mitzrayim with a strong hand. Hashem placed signs and wonders, great and terrible, against Egypt, against Paroh, and against his entire household before our very eyes, etc.." (Devarim 6:20-25).

Ramban's answer to our second question is as follows. After commanding Bnei Yisrael not to test Hashem by demanding proof that He is with them or by demanding a reward for their service, Moshe Rabbeinu then addresses their concerns. "You want proof that Hashem is with you? Look no further than the events of Yetzias Mitzrayim, which your parents - and some of you - experienced. You want benefits for keeping the mitzvos? How does conquering Eretz Yisrael sound? It's all right there in the words of nevuah - those very same prophetic words which you stubbornly refused to accept even after their authenticity was verified time and again."

Ordinarily, when I write these weekly divrei Torah, I try to bring out some new insight or application. But every once in a while, it is best to just let the Torah speak for itself. The two problematic behaviors exhibited by Bnei Yisrael at Massah continue to afflict us to this day. How many people out there still attempt to "make deals" with Hashem, saying, "I'll do such-and-such for You if You do such-and-such for me?" How many Jews keep all of the eidos which testify to the historicity of the miracles that Hashem performed, but still question the veracity of nevuah and desire for Hashem to miraculously reveal Himself to them, personally?

This is precisely why lo tenasu is one of the 613 mitzvos, for all generations. The problems which it is designed to uproot are perennial. If the generation that witnessed these miracles continued to test Hashem, we must ponder why that is the case. Apparently, our feeling that, "Everyone would accept Hashem, if only He did a miracle for them!" is not as true as we think it is. Perhaps this is another reason why lo tenasu is a mitzvah: to prompt us to analyze the roots of the subversive attitudes which the mitzvah is intended to eliminate.

In other words, this mitzvah, itself, serves as a test: a test to see whether we are willing to examine our own desire to test Hashem, and to actually do something about it.