For many of us, the idea that Avraham would be willing to sacrifice Yitzchak without voicing a single objection seems beyond comprehension. Avraham, after all, is the man who challenged G-d Himself when He planned to destroy Sodom — a city steeped in wickedness.
Avraham understood the people of Sodom. He knew their corruption. But he objected to the idea that the righteous would be punished alongside the guilty. “Ha-shofet kol ha’aretz lo ya’aseh mishpat?” — Will the Judge of all the earth not act justly?
And so, when that very same G-d commands Avraham to sacrifice His son, we wonder - is not Yitzchak also righteous? And didn’t G-d Himself promise that through Yitzhack the Jewish people would be born?
And yet, no questions. No pleas. No signs of doubt. Avraham simply gets up and goes. He is willing to sacrifice his son without voicing any concern whatsoever.
How can that be?
Clearly there is some distinction - something that differentiates the Akedia from Sodom and Amora. One such distinction that I heard is the difference between being informed and being commanded.
By Sodom and Amora G-d informed Avraham of what He plans to do. By the Akeida, G-d commanded Avraham what to do.
I would like to offer an additional distinction, one that gets to the very heart and purpose of the Akedia itself - and that is the distinction between justice and sacrifice.
The story of the Akeida is not a story of G-d enacting justice in the world. Neither Avraham, Yitzchak or anyone else is guilty of a crime that warrants a punishment.
That is not the case by Sodom and Amora. There G-d was responding to their wickedness and declaring that it warranted a response. And Avraham was inquiring of G-d how exactly Divine justice operates in this world. Will G-d be unjust in His application of justice?
Heaven forbid, Avraham said.
And, indeed, heaven did forbid.
But here, by the Akeida, we are entering into an entirely different realm of reality - namely, the world of sacrifice. Sacrifice is not about what is fair or just; rather it is about love, devotion, and offering back to the Creator what is already His.
When G-d, informed Avraham that He was about to punish the people of Sodom and Amora, Avraham responded because He was attempting to understand how exactly G-d’s justice works in His world.
But when G-d commanded Avraham to sacrifice Yitzchak, G-d was directing Avraham to make a sacrifice. To take all that he held dear in this world - his hopes, dreams, purpose, love and connection - and to offer all of that to G-d.
And to this, Avraham said yes.
It is, of course, a difficult yes. Does G-d want us to serve Him by sacrificing the righteous? For many of us, this sounds anathema - but, of course, we live in a post-Akeida world. One where the lessons of the Akeida have been internalized.
But if we really want to understand the Akeida, we need to go to the moments before the Akeida and understand this type of sacrifice, why G-d would command it and why Avraham would be so ready and willing to agree.
And while we are there, we will need to address a related question: if G-d never intended Avraham to kill Yitzchak, why did He ask Avraham in the first place.
In other words, if there is value in this level of sacrifice - then let Avraham actually sacrifice Yitzchak. But if G-d Himself objects to us serving Him this way, then why ask Avraham to do something that G-d does not actually want him to do?
The Creator’s Claim
To get started, we need to note a fact that is hard for some of us to accept; namely, that there is an internal logic and rational to G-d’s command. In fact, in some ways, G-d’s order to sacrifice Yitzchak is the most reasonable request He could make of Avraham.
After all, more than anyone else in the world, Avraham understood Who was speaking to him — the Creator Himself. And he understood, again more than anyone else in the world, that he (Avraham) is created.
What’s more, Avraham understood exactly what that all means.
To say that G-d is our Creator means that we are utterly dependent upon Him, that we owe Him everything. Our mere existence is a gift from G-d. Our continued existence is another gift from G-d. Everything that sustains us and gives us comfort, joy, meaning and purpose are gifts from G-d.
G-d is the creator of everything and He is the maintainer of everything. Avraham didn’t just know this, he lived it. He felt to his very soul.
All of this exists in the realm of Creator to created. And in this realm, the creator has certain rights which the created does not have. And one of those is to demand back the life which G-d gifted to us.
We resist this idea - indeed, I myself as I write these words feel the resistance building inside me. But that is because G-d has trained us to love life so much - choose life! But the logic of this relationship still holds - even if we constitutionally have a difficult time with it.
It holds for every living being. But it holds even more so by Yitzchak.
For Yitzchak lives and exists by a double miracle. Like all of us, he lives by the miracle of creation. If there is no world, there is no Yitzchak.
But the world as it is cannot produce a Yitzchak. By the laws of nature, he does not exist. G-d’s world is sufficient for Avraham and Sarah - they can come into existence by the laws of nature that G-d implanted in His world. But those laws will not enable Avraham and Sarah to have a Yitzchak. Something more is needed.
That something is G-d’s Providence.
In other words, Yitzchak is doubly dependent upon G-d. He is dependent upon Him as a child of creation. And he is dependent upon Him as a child of Providence. Without G-d actively interfering with the laws of nature, Yitzchak would not be here.
So when G-d says to Avraham, “Take your son,” He is asking Avraham to acknowledge the full reality of Yitzchak and all that Avraham and Yitzchak owe G-d.
It is as if G-d is saying: “I, G-d, have gifted all of this to you. I now ask you to acknowledge that by actively returning it back to me.”
And so, Avraham does not question or hesitate G-d’s command, because Avraham fully understands and relates to it. He knows he has no claim of ownership. Yitzchak is not being punished; he is being returned. This is not murder; it is offering. Avraham is turning him into an olah temimah — a perfect offering that expresses complete recognition of G-d’s mastery and control over creation and our full debt and gratitude to G-d for the gift of life and existence.
One can even imagine the religious passion that would go into such a sacrifice - of truly offering everything to G-d. The secular mind cannot fathom this, but the religious soul can experience it.
And yet — at the very moment the knife is raised — G-d calls out: Stop. Do not harm the boy. Do not actually make this sacrifice.
Why? Why hold Avraham back? It all makes so much sense now. Why not let Avraham truly give everything to G-d? What is missing in that act of total devotion that only a few moments earlier G-d seemed to actually desire? **
The Ram and the Relationship
At this point, we need to turn to the thicket and to the ram caught there by its horns. We all know the story, Avraham offers this ram in place of Yitzchak.
But again, we wonder - why? Why the need for a substitute? Avraham has already shown that he is totally and utterly dedicated to G-d. Why not let it go at that?
Evidently, that is not enough. We are not done. We still need a sacrifice.
But why?
It is at this point that we turn to a rather difficult Rashi. Not difficult to understand, but difficult because we do understand it. Rashi informs us that when Avraham sacrificed that ram, he acted every step of the way as if he was actually sacrificing Yitzchak.
In other words, Yitzchak does need to be sacrificed and Avraham needs to be the one who sacrifices him. It just can’t physically be done. But it can - and evidently must - be vicariously done.
And so, with all the powers of his imagination (and tefillah - see Rashi), Avraham goes through the experience of sacrificing Yitzchak vis-a-vis this ram. Again, I constitutionally have a difficult time with this Rashi. I do not like reading it and imagining what it is saying.
But it is there - and it is the key to understanding the Akeida.? For the ram is G-d’s third gift in this story.
Beyond the gifts of creation and providence, we now have the gift of the substitute. G-d says, in effect: “Yes, Avraham, I have the right to demand Yitzchak back. But there is something I desire more than My rights — and that is My relationship with you and with your offspring.”
And in this, G-d resolves an existing tension that we did not even realize exists. If G-d let’s Avraham sacrifice Yitzchak, then there can be no Jewish people and therefore no relationship. But if G-d does not let Avraham sacrifice Yitzchak, then there would be a lack in that relationship - one where we cannot fully relate to G-d as G-d truly is.
And so is born the gift of the substitute.
By vicariously sacrificing the ram, G-d shows us that He chooses both life & relationship on the one hand and devotion & sacrifice on the other hand. And he shows us that there are ways to combine both without losing the other.
This is the dual message of the Akeidah.
On one hand, to have a deep and passionate relationship with G-d, one must be willing to give everything — absolutely everything — to Him. On the other hand, G-d teaches that what He wants in return is not death, but devotion; not destruction, but love.
Throughout Jewish history, this truth has echoed painfully and powerfully. There have been parents — even in our own generation — who have had to actually make the sacrifice of Avraham. G-d, to our great sorrow, did not grant them a substitute.
But note that real and great sorrow - it is the final gift of the Akeida. The gift that eventually develops into choose life. For by willing to sacrifice it all, while still cherishing it all - we enter into the ultimate relationship with the Creator Himself.