Genesis 22

by Rabbi Russ Resnik

"R. Abbahu said: Why do we blow on a ram's horn [on Rosh Hashanah]?  The Holy One, blessed be He, said: Sound before Me a ram's horn so that I may remember on your behalf the binding of Isaac the son of Abraham, and account it to you as if you had bound yourselves before Me." (Talmud, Rosh Hashanah 16a)

 

The Torah calls Rosh Hashanah Yom Teruah, the day of the trumpet-blast, but does not signify what type of trumpet is to be blown. Tradition decrees that it is to be a ram's horn trumpet, to commemorate the story of the binding of Isaac, which is read during the holiday. This story may seem to be only one strand in the multi-textured fabric of Rosh Hashanah, but—as the Talmudic reference suggests—it colors our entire observance. Just as the story of the departure from Egypt shapes the entire festival of Passover, so the binding of Isaac shapes the Days of Awe, Rosh Hashanah and Yom Kippur.

The story opens, "Some time afterward, God put Abraham to the test" (Gen. 22:1, NJPS). The test is God's command to Abraham to offer his uniquely beloved son Isaac as a sacrifice, and Abraham obeys without question. He travels with Isaac to the place the Lord has designated, binds Isaac, and places him upon the altar. But, as he raises the knife to complete the sacrifice, an angel of the Lord calls out to stop him, "For now I know that you fear God, since you have not withheld your son, your favored one, from Me" (Gen. 22:12, NJPS). The Lord provides a ram as a substitute sacrifice, and reiterates his intention to bless Abraham and his offspring, and through them all humankind, because of Abraham's obedience.

The Days of Awe give us a share in this story. During these days, when we draw near to God as supreme king and judge, we must examine our souls and mend our ways. Abraham provides the standard of obedience to God. We may never have to make the sort of sacrifice he was prepared to make, but if we are intent on following God, we will be called to difficult obedience—and tested, as Abraham was tested. And the outcome for us, as for Abraham and Isaac, will be God's merciful deliverance.

Beyond this specific story, however, we must consider the power of story itself to bring us into holy space. The shared story makes us a sacred community. We live in a consumerist society, where we may participate in a variety of communities and associations to achieve a variety of objectives. But sacred community is altogether different.  As part of the people of Israel, or as those who are brought into association with Israel through the sacrifice of Israel's Messiah, we are a sacred community, held together by the shared story of God's deliverance. Our congregations, before anything else, are sacred communities as well.

In a current book, "Rethinking Synagogues, A New Vocabulary for Congregational Life," Rabbi Lawrence Hoffman explains:

"The everyday is what we use as means to ends. The sacred exists as its own end. . .  . Sacred community, then, is devoted to certain tasks, but these can be realized only in a sacred ambience, not in a market community where people weigh value by the list of limited liability deliverables that they think their dues are buying."

Congregation is not a means to an end, a collection of programs, projects, and benefits, but a holy gathering under Hashem that exists as its own end. Once a member begins to ask, "What's in it for me?" he or she has missed the point of sacred community, and begun to think like a consumer. Instead, members belong to the congregation for its own sake, because they love it and find God there.

The shared story makes us a sacred community. In the Messianic community, Yeshua himself takes the central role in our shared story.  He does not replace Israel's shared story, but rather embodies and fulfills it in his own life. Thus, like Isaac, Yeshua is willing to be bound and offered up. Midrash Rabbah compares the binding of Isaac to execution upon the cross, an all-too-familiar scene to the Jews of the first two centuries C.E., when the stories of this Midrash originated:

"'And Abraham took the wood of the burnt-offering,' like one who carries his stake on his shoulder. 'And they went both of them together,' one to bind and the other to be bound, one to slaughter and the other to be slaughtered" (Midrash Rabbah, Genesis 56:3).

Isaac, after his binding, is figuratively raised from the dead and restored to his father, Abraham (Hebrews 11:19). Yeshua perishes and is raised from the dead in reality. A later midrash, in Pirke de Rabbi Eliezer, says that when Abraham raised the knife to slay Isaac, Isaac's soul left him, but when the angel called out to Abraham to desist from harming Isaac, his soul returned to him. Abraham then untied Isaac, who rose up and began to recite, "Blessed are you O Lord, who raises the dead." To the Jewish mind, the binding of Isaac had become a drama of death and resurrection.

This drama gave hope to the generations of Israel that endured Roman domination, the destruction of the Temple, and the oppression that followed. It also provided a point of reference to understand a Messiah who took on the suffering and defeat of his people, endured execution at the hand of Rome, and arose from the dead. As the ram was offered in place of Isaac, the son of Abraham, so Messiah Yeshua was offered in the place of all the children of Abraham, sacrificed to bring atonement to Israel and all humankind.

The Torah introduces its account with the words, "God tested Abraham" (Gen. 22:1). In the discussions in Midrash and gospel, however, the willingness of the son eclipses the testing of the father. The account of the testing and obedience of Abraham is now paired with the drama of the sacrifice and resurrection of Isaac. Father and son "go together," even, as "one to bind and the other to be bound, one to slaughter and the other to be slaughtered." Their wills are united and the son is ready to sacrifice himself.

The shared story makes us a sacred community, fit to keep the sacred days of Rosh Hashanah and Yom Kippur. Our shared story for the Days of Awe calls us to difficult obedience, the obedience that requires sacrifice. Yeshua models this to the utmost, and calls us to follow him. Most tellingly, the end of the story is life. As we return to the Lord and his ways during this season, we remember that real life comes through testing. The path of difficult obedience brings us to the sweetness of resurrection life in Messiah. May we find our way on this path in the New Year ahead!

L'Shanah Tovah, Russ Resnik

Portions of this commentary adapted from Creation to Completion: A Guide to Life's Journey from the Five Books of Moses, by Russ Resnik.  Order from the publisher, Lederer Books/Messianic Jewish Publishers, at www.messianicjewish.net , or by calling 800-410-7367.