What It Really Means to Be “Israel”

"Jacob wrestling with the angel" by Eugène Delacroix (1861)

“Jacob wrestling with the angel” by Eugène Delacroix (1861)

This week’s Torah reading is Vayishlach, which begins with Jacob’s return to the Holy Land following a twenty-year stay in Charan. The most famous passage of this portion is Jacob’s battle with a certain angel. After its defeat, the angel gives Jacob a blessing and renames him Israel. What is the meaning of “Israel”? What was the purpose of this battle to begin with? And what does it all have to do with Jacob’s difficult twenty years in servitude to his deceiving father-in-law Laban?

Jacob vs. Esau

The Torah describes in quite some detail the conception, birth, and early lives of the twins Jacob and Esau. We see that Jacob was a “quiet [or innocent] man, sitting in tents” while Esau was a “hunter, a man of the field.” As twins, and the only children of Isaac and Rebecca, they were meant to work together in carrying on the divine mission started by their grandfather Abraham. Jacob was blessed with extra intellect and spirituality, while Esau was blessed with extra physical strength and ambition. Jacob would have acted as the peaceful teacher, while Esau would defeat any remaining evil in battle.  As partners, they would have been unstoppable in bringing light, morality, and a new God-consciousness to the world.

Unfortunately, the two couldn’t channel their blessings in the right direction. Esau’s physicality got the better of him, and he descended into a never-ending spiral of materialism and lust. At the same time, Jacob used his cunning to take Esau’s birthright, instead of using his greater intellect to put his brother back on the right path. Nonetheless, Jacob remained dedicated to fulfilling his divine mission, while Esau “despised his birthright” (Genesis 25:34).

By taking Esau’s birthright and blessing, what Jacob had done was to take Esau’s mission upon himself. However, Jacob was born soft and meek – not fit for a fighter – while Esau was the one born muscular and hairy, as if already a grown man (hence his name Esav, literally “complete”). Could Jacob really become that holy warrior that Esau was meant to be? The only way to find out was to put Jacob to the test.

Becoming Israel

Right after receiving Esau’s blessings, Jacob was told that his brother was out to get him. The soft Jacob immediately fled the Holy Land, as far away from his brother as he could. This was true to his character as a docile man, “sitting in tents”. But this was not what a holy warrior should do.

Jacob ended up in the home of his uncle and future father-in-law, Laban. He instantly fell in love with Laban’s younger daughter Rachel, and agreed to work for Laban for seven years to have her hand in marriage. After seven years, Jacob was tricked into marrying the elder Leah instead of his beloved Rachel. It is hard to miss the irony of it all: Jacob, the one who tricked his father into getting his older brother’s blessing, is now tricked by his father-in-law into marrying his beloved’s older sister.

To have Rachel, Laban forces Jacob to work for yet another seven years. This is, of course, completely unjust. A man such as Esau would have surely taken on Laban, but the spineless Jacob simply agrees, and slaves away for another seven years. Following this, Laban finds more ways to trick Jacob out of an honest wage. But Jacob is starting to learn, and counters Laban’s wits with his own, soon building an even greater wealth than his father-in-law.

At this point, Jacob hears that Laban is not very pleased with Jacob, and Jacob fears for himself and his family once again. As he did twenty years earlier, he decides to flee. While Laban was away shearing his sheep, Jacob takes the opportunity to run away, taking the whole family with him. It appears that Jacob fails the test yet again, and is unable to confront his evil enemies.

Ten days later, Laban and his men find Jacob, and everything begins to change. Laban waltzes in to Jacob’s camp and begins threatening his son-in-law as he’d always done in the past. But this time, Jacob has had enough, and realizes he can’t run away anymore. “And Jacob was angered, and battled with Laban” (Genesis 31:36). Jacob succeeds, and Laban seeks a peace treaty (v. 44). The two make a pact and part ways, never to see each other again. Jacob is becoming a fighter.

Jacob vs. Israel

This sets up this week’s portion, where Jacob has to face off with Esau, twenty years after running away from him. The night before, Jacob goes off on his own and is confronted by a mysterious figure (the identity of whom was discussed last year). The two battle it out all night long, and Jacob finally prevails. He is certainly no longer that weak, passive man he was two decades earlier. He has earned his badge of being a holy warrior. And with this, he is given a new name: Israel, one who battles with God; not against God, but alongside God, to defeat evil and make the world a better place. Jacob finally proves that he can indeed be Esau, and his taking of Esau’s birthright and blessing was not in vain.

The Sages tell us that this is the real reason why Jacob had to marry both Rachel and Leah. Originally, since Rebecca had two sons and Laban had two daughters, it was commonly said that the younger Jacob would marry the younger Rachel, while the older Esau would marry the older Leah (Talmud, Bava Batra 123a). Truly, these two couples were soul mates. However, Esau lost his spiritual essence to Jacob, and with it, his spiritual counterpart, Leah. The problem is that the Torah forbids a man from marrying two sisters! The Arizal (in Sha’ar HaPesukim, on Vayetze) tells us that, in fact, Rachel and Leah did not marry one man, for Jacob and Israel were really two souls in one body, and while Jacob married Rachel, it was Israel that married Leah. After all, Israel was the new Esau, the part of Jacob that wasn’t just “sitting in tents” but was capable of being a “man of the field”, too.

We later see that Israel was Jacob’s true self, his more-elevated inner being, and what he was really meant to be all along. God confirms this with a prophetic blessing (Genesis 35:10): “‘You shall no longer be called Jacob, but Israel shall be your name.’ And He named him Israel.”

This brings a tremendous lesson for all of us: we are not meant to be the weak Jacob, passively sitting in tents and being pushed around. Rather, we are meant to be Israel, who can balance study and prayer with strength and might; who can balance the physical with the spiritual, the science with the religion, and who knows when to seek peace, and when to pursue war. It is most fitting that the founders of the modern Jewish State decided to call it “Israel” (as opposed to its more common historic name of “Judah”). If Israel is to fulfill its divine task, it should live up to its name: battling alongside God, as holy, righteous warriors, to repair this world – both physically and spiritually – restoring it to its original, perfected state.

The Unusual Connection between Jacob, Issachar, and Rabbi Akiva  

This week’s Torah reading is Vayetze, which recounts how Jacob – following the advice of his parents – leaves the Holy Land and journeys to the land of Charan. There he meets Rachel, with whom he falls in love instantly, and agrees to labour for seven years to earn her hand in marriage. As the well-known story goes, we see how Jacob’s father-in-law Laban tricked him into first marrying Leah, Rachel’s elder sister. Jacob is forced to work yet another seven years for his beloved Rachel. The Torah then gives us a detailed account of the pregnancies of Leah, Rachel, and their maidservants, Zilpah and Bilhah, setting the foundations for the Twelve Tribes of Israel, who descend from each of the children.

An illustration of Rabbi Akiva from the Mantua Haggadah of 1568

An illustration of Rabbi Akiva from the Mantua Haggadah of 1568

In his commentary on this parasha (in Sefer HaPesukim), the Arizal focuses specifically on Issachar, the fifth son of Leah. He begins by quoting a verse in Tanakh (I Chronicles 12:33) that describes the tribe of Issachar as yod’ei binah, knowledgeable and wise people. He then draws from the midrash which states that Rabbi Akiva, the famous 2nd century Jewish sage, was Issachar, and that, in addition to being among the greatest rabbis of all time, he was among the aseret harugei malkhut, “The Ten Martyrs” of Israel. These were ten Talmudic sages that were killed mercilessly by the Romans.

Reincarnation and the Ten Martyrs

The narrative of the Ten Martyrs appears in many Jewish texts and goes something like this: a certain Roman emperor took an interest in learning the laws and stories of the Torah. He discovered that while the Torah is clear on the rule that kidnapping is punishable by death, the sons of Jacob who kidnapped their half-brother Joseph were never punished for their sin. Technically, by Torah law they should have been put to death.

And so, the emperor summoned ten of the greatest rabbis of the day, among them being Rabbi Akiva and Ishmael ben Elisha, the High Priest. He presented them with this conundrum and they agreed with his conclusion. The emperor decided that the ten rabbis should suffer the fate that was meant to befall the ten sons of Jacob. He decreed a death penalty upon them and had them imprisoned.

During the rabbis’ confinement, Ishmael ben Elisha invoked God’s Ineffable Name to receive communication from Heaven, and found out that this punishment was indeed decreed upon them from Above. The ten rabbis ended up being tragically martyred at the hands of Rome.

The Arizal explains that this punishment was decreed upon them from Heaven because these ten rabbis were none other than the reincarnations of the ten sons of Jacob! In that sense, they deserved their deaths as a rectification for their sins in their past lives. Each of the ten sages paralleled one of the ten sons of Jacob, and Rabbi Akiva was the reincarnation of Issachar.

The Uniqueness of Issachar

The Arizal brings up an interesting grammatical anomaly in the Torah’s text regarding Issachar’s conception. The text reads v’ishkav ima b’lilah hu, which is typically translated as “And he [Jacob] lay with her [Leah] on that night.” However, such a translation would require the text to say b’lilah hahu, whereas the text actually says b’lilah hu, which may be read “at night, he.” The Arizal explains that on that night, he [Jacob] transferred a major part of his own soul into the newly conceived child. Of all the children, Issachar was most like his father, and this is why he (and his descendants) were so wise and knowledgeable, like the patriarch Jacob himself.

Therefore, since Issachar had such a major share in Jacob’s soul, his reincarnation into Rabbi Akiva meant that Rabbi Akiva had a major part of Jacob’s soul, too. And this is why, the Arizal explains, they share a name, since Akiva is simply an Aramaic rendition of Yakov, “Jacob”. This is also why Rabbi Akiva was so exceedingly wise, like Jacob and Issachar.

The Arizal presents a further proof for this by quoting from the text of Jacob’s blessings to his children before his passing. Jacob’s blessing to Issachar was that he should be a chamor gorem, “a large-boned donkey” (Genesis 49:14). In the Talmud, Rabbi Akiva tells the story of how before he was himself an observant Torah scholar, he despised all the Torah scholars. He said that he would wish for them to have their bones crushed by the bite of a donkey! The Arizal tells us this is the deeper secret within Jacob’s prophetic blessings, as the similarity of words tie together the lives of Issachar and Rabbi Akiva.

Ultimately, Jacob became Israel and fathered the Jewish people, while the tribe of Issachar was the one that kept Torah wisdom alive throughout Israel’s early history; and finally, it is Rabbi Akiva who is most often credited with saving Judaism from near extinction following the devastating Roman-Jewish wars. Jacob, Issachar, Akiva: three wise figures sharing one soul, and playing a crucial role in the history of the Jewish people.

The Origins of Jerusalem and the Priesthood

This week’s Torah reading is Toldot, featuring the births and early lives of the twins Jacob and Esau. After twenty years of marriage, Isaac and Rebecca finally conceive. The pregnancy proves to be a strange one, though, with Rebecca’s restless womb feeling like a battlefield. Rebecca decides to seek the counsel of a prophet to figure out what’s going on. It is revealed that she is carrying twins, each of which will go on to found large nations and kingdoms that will always compete with one another. Even in the womb, they are already struggling for dominance. It is prophesized that ultimately the elder twin (Esau) will serve the younger twin (Jacob).

"Isaac Blessing Jacob", by Gustav Doré

“Isaac Blessing Jacob”, by Gustav Doré

The Torah is unclear about who it was that made this prophecy. In the simplest sense, it is possible that Rebecca herself received the prophecy directly from God since she, too, was a prophetess like all the matriarchs. However, the accepted tradition (and the one cited by Rashi) is that she went to consult with Shem, the son of Noah.

Shem, or Melchizedek?

Depending on how one reads the verses, Shem must have lived for 600 or 602 years. (In the past, we’ve written of the seemingly impossible lifespans of the pre-Flood generations.) The traditional year for the Flood on the Hebrew calendar (where years are designated with an AM, anno mundi) is 1656 AM, approximately 2104 BCE. Shem was around 100 years old at this time (Genesis 11:10), which means that Shem lived roughly until 2156 AM. Abraham was born in 1948 AM, Isaac in 2048 AM, and Jacob in 2108 AM, so it is a very real possibility that Shem met all three patriarchs.

In the 14th chapter of Genesis, we read about Abraham’s war with the alliance of four kings, headed by Amraphel of Shinar. After defeating the kings, Abraham is greeted by Melchizedek, the king of Salem (Shalem), who is also described as being a High Priest (kohen). Rashi cites the midrash that Melchizedek is none other than Shem, the son of Noah. How did Shem become Melchizedek?

Back to the Tower of Babel

A few weeks ago we wrote of the Tower of Babel and how this Tower was very different from what people generally think. In the aftermath of the Tower, the people – once all living in a single city, with a single language – were scattered across the Earth, and their languages confounded. Not surprisingly, since their languages had totally changed, their names must have totally changed, too. After all, how could those scattered to, say, China, retain their old Semitic names from a life they no longer had any memory of, and with syllables they could no longer pronounce in their new tongue?

Indeed, Rashi tells us that Amraphel, the king of Shinar – leader of the alliance against Abraham – is the very same person as Nimrod – the king who previously tried to kill Abraham by throwing him into a fiery furnace! Before the Tower, the king was known as Nimrod (in fact, many consider him to be the one who spearheaded the Tower project). Now, after the confounding of languages, he was Amraphel of Shinar. And in the same way, Shem was now Melchizedek of Salem.

The First King of Jerusalem

The Torah tells us that following the Flood, Noah brought sacrificial offerings to God. The midrash (Beresheet Rabbah 30:6) fills in that it was actually Shem who facilitated the offerings. Upon exiting the Ark, Noah was attacked by a lion and seriously injured, preventing him from performing the sacrificial rites. Shem stepped in, becoming history’s first official priest. He held onto this role for several centuries. Knowing that Jerusalem is the spiritual centre of the world, and God’s chosen site for offerings, Shem settled there. He called the place Shalem, literally “wholeness” and “peace”, and soon became its king as well.

Following Abraham’s war, it is said that Shem, now known as Melchizedek, conferred the priesthood upon him. The priesthood was then passed down from father to son through the special birthright and blessing (as we read in this week’s portion). With the sin of the Golden Calf at Mt. Sinai, the firstborn of Israel collectively lost their rights to the priesthood, which was now transferred solely to the tribe of Levi, and more specifically, to the descendants of Aaron. To this day, Jews do the pidyon haben ceremony thirty days after the first male child is born, commemorating this transfer of priesthood from the firstborn to the descendants of Aaron.

Meanwhile, Abraham would later ascend Mt. Moriah in the territory of Salem to bind Isaac in the Akeidah. Following this test, Abraham called the place Hashem Yireh, literally “where God is seen”. The Sages say that since the righteous Shem called the place Shalem, and the righteous Abraham called it Yireh, God did not want to choose one name over the other, and so, combined the two to make Yerushalaim, Jerusalem.

The Return of the Righteous Priest

How the life of Shem-Melchizedek came to an end appears to be a mystery. Some ancient Jewish texts put him in the same league as Elijah and Enoch, two people who are said to have never died, but rather ascended to the Heavens alive. The Talmud (Sukkah 52b) speaks of a “Righteous Priest” who comes at the End of Days, together with Elijah and the two Messiahs: Mashiach ben David, and Mashiach ben Yosef. The midrash identifies this Righteous Priest as Melchizedek. Together, they make up the “Four Craftsmen” prophesized by Zechariah that will finally usher in a new, peaceful world. May we merit to see it soon.

Abraham on Intermarriage

לעילוי נשמת סבתי מרת פאינה בת אוג’ול, תנצב”ה

This week’s Torah reading is Chayei Sarah, which begins with the narrative describing the passing of Sarah, the first Matriarch of Israel. In the past, we’ve written of Sarah’s spiritual make-up and legacy. We’ve explored the significance of Me’erat HaMachpelah, the Cave of the Patriarchs where she was buried, as well as the nature of death and the afterlife in Judaism.

'Eliezer and Rebekah' by Gustav Doré

‘Eliezer and Rebekah’ by Gustav Doré

Following the passage of Sarah’s death, the bulk of the portion’s remaining narrative deals with the marriage of Isaac, her only son. Abraham commissions his trusted servant Eliezer to find Isaac a proper wife. He makes Eliezer swear to bring a woman from his own home and extended family back in the land of Charan. Abraham cautions his servant not to bring a foreign woman under any circumstances, and to ensure her willingness to move to the Holy Land of Israel. If Eliezer cannot find such a woman, Abraham absolves his servant of his oath.

Eliezer goes on his way with a caravan of ten camels. He prays that God will give him a sign to find the right one, and God doesn’t disappoint. Rebecca comes forth and provides the weary Eliezer with a drink. She then fills the troughs for his camels, too. On average, a typical camel will drink over 100 litres of water in under 10 minutes. Rebecca had to draw over 1000 litres of water from her well to quench Eliezer’s ten camels! Not surprisingly, the Torah tells us Eliezer was simply astonished (Genesis 24:21). He knew immediately that God had answered his prayers, and Rebecca – so kind, patient, and strong – is undoubtedly the one. Eliezer introduces himself and follows Rebecca home. At this point, it becomes quite clear why Abraham specifically wanted a daughter from his own family back in Charan.

Making Souls

Jewish texts tell us that Abraham was a passionate educator from a young age. His life’s mission was waking people up to God’s existence, to end their idolatry and immorality, and to inspire others to take upon themselves a higher sense of responsibility and righteousness. Abraham and Sarah were very successful in this task, so much so that the Torah describes them as having “made souls” (Genesis 12:5). Rashi explains that this refers to their role as spiritual parents, as if Abraham and Sarah themselves brought all those people to life. The Torah specifically says this occurred in Charan, and the message was evidently taken up by his own extended family.

After Eliezer explains to Rebecca’s father and brother what had transpired, the two answer: “This has come from Hashem… let [Rebecca] be a wife for your master’s son, as Hashem has spoken” (24:50-51). The family was one that recognized God and His greatness. They were moral and good people, too, welcoming Eliezer into their home, and even offering Rebecca the final choice on whether to go with Eliezer or not (as opposed to forcing her into marriage, as was common in those days). Rebecca herself decided to go with Eliezer immediately, and not wait another year as the family suggested. When the caravan finally returned to Israel, we see that the righteous Rebecca instantly recognized Isaac’s holiness (see Rashi on v. 64). In her modesty, she quickly veiled herself. The two were happily married, monogamously, and as we’ve written before, symbolize a most perfect bond and love, unlike any other described in Scripture.

Kindness, modesty, faith – these are central traits embodied by Rebecca, as the Torah so thoroughly describes, and traits that are found deep within the hearts of all Jewish women that descend from her. This is ultimately the reason why Abraham was so strict about Isaac not intermarrying with the locals. To ensure Isaac would be able to maintain the divine covenant, and to continue in the holy work of tikkun olam, and of spreading truth, morality, and righteousness, it was absolutely essential that Isaac had a partner that was equally up to the task. After all, it is well known (and repeated countless times in Jewish texts), that all the power lies within the woman.

It was Rebecca that ensured the divine blessings would pass on to the righteous Jacob, and not the wayward Esau. It was the wife of On ben Pelet who saved him from joining Korach’s rebellion against Moses and God, while Korach himself was brought down by his own spiteful wife (Sanhedrin 109b). It was Zeresh that stood behind Haman to annihilate the Jewish people, while Esther prevented a holocaust. And when Abraham worried about what to do with his unruly son Ishmael, God told him: “Everything that Sarah tells you, listen to her voice” (Genesis 21:12).

Intermarriage Today

It is therefore not surprising that Jewish law is unequivocal on the fact that the spiritual heritage of Judaism is passed on through the mother, and never through the father. Having said that, fulfilling God’s covenant requires two partners, which is why intermarriage from either direction is spiritually so tragic. (Just like every Jewish woman has the traits of kindness, modesty, and faith, the Talmud tells us that every Jewish man, too, has three traits embedded in his soul: empathy (or mercy), modesty, and kindness. The Rambam famously goes so far as to say that one who does not show these traits should be suspected of not really being Jewish!)

The latest statistics show that the rate of intermarriage is now at 58%, and among non-Orthodox Jews, it is an astounding 71%. Since the year 2000, 80% of Reform weddings were intermarriages. Together with their low birth rate of just 1.7 children, Reform Judaism (which is still considered the largest denomination in America) is dwindling. Only 4% of Reform Jews regularly attend religious services, and a meagre 29% believe in God. Jews that are totally secular and unaffiliated are not even on the map or in the statistics.

Abraham, the one who started it all, history’s first Jew, cautioned us so explicitly about intermarriage. The Torah spends a whopping 67 verses to describe this narrative in detail, making it among the longest chapters in the Torah. It goes without saying that we should all be doing everything we can to prevent intermarriages (including to inspire proper conversions where necessary). And Abraham gave us all a blessing to do this, just as he blessed Eliezer, who wondered how he would accomplish this seemingly difficult task: “Hashem, God of the Heavens… will send His angel before you…” (24:7).

May God’s angels help us all find our true soulmates, and give us the strength and wisdom to fulfil our divine task in this world.


Three Powerful Lessons from Abraham

This week’s Torah reading is Vayera, which famously begins with Abraham hosting three angels, who go on to prophesy the birth of Isaac, and then to destroy the sinful Sodom and Gomorrah. In this parasha we get a much deeper look into Abraham’s character traits and personality. Of course, there is a great deal to be learned from the first patriarch. His legendary hospitality and kindness (stemming from his root in the mystical sefirah of Chessed, of which we wrote about last year) is already well-known. His empathy and concern for others, too, is often highlighted from this week’s reading where he negotiates with God to spare the people of Sodom. Yet there are several more lessons (among many others) we can draw from the great Abraham.

'Abraham and the Three Angels' by James Tissot

‘Abraham and the Three Angels’ by James Tissot

Dust and Ashes

In the midst of his conversation with God to spare the people of Sodom, Abraham meekly states anokhi afar v’efer, “I am dust and ashes” (Genesis 18:27). This alludes to the account of creation where God makes man afar min hadamah, from the “dust of the ground” (Genesis 2:7), and after the Forbidden Fruit, curses man: “from the dust you came, and to the dust you shall return” (Genesis 3:19).

It also reminds of the words of the great sage Akavia ben Mehalalel in the Mishnah (Avot 3:1): “Reflect upon three things and you will not come to sin: Know from where you came, and where you are going, and before whom you are destined to give a judgement and accounting. From where you came? From a putrid drop. Where you are going? To a place of dust, maggots and worms. And before whom you are destined to give a judgement and accounting? Before the King of kings, the Holy One, blessed be He.”

Rashi comments on Abraham’s words that were it not for God’s salvation, Abraham would have been turned to ashes by Nimrod’s flaming furnace, and to dust by the alliance of armies that warred against him (Genesis 14). Abraham thus addressed God in this humble manner, recognizing that he is in no position to argue against His creator, yet at the same time fulfilling his God-given mandate of being holy, and being like God, Who is ultimately compassionate and graceful. Of course, God comforts Abraham in telling him that had there been fifty righteous people in Sodom, He would not destroy it (or had there been forty-five people for that matter, or forty, or thirty, twenty, or even ten).

All of this is a great lesson in humility. As the Mishnah states, a person should never forget where they come from and where they are going; how short and futile life is; and where they really stand in the grand scheme of this vast universe. However, one should never be self-effacing, nor should a person forget that they are made in God’s image, with an infinite potential to grow, create, and improve their world.

One of the earliest Chassidic leaders, Rabbi Simcha Bunim of Peshischa (1765-1827), said it best: “A person should have two pockets in his coat. One should contain the Talmudic saying: ‘For my sake was the world created.’ In the second pocket he should keep the Torah verse: ‘I am but dust and ashes.’”

Fulfilled Prayers

Later on in the parasha we read what seems like a déjà vu, where the beautiful Sarah is once again abducted by a king, this time Avimelech of Gerar. As a result, Avimelech’s household is plagued by some sort of infertility, or according to others, a curse where all of their orifices were sealed, preventing both excretion and childbirth. The story concludes with Abraham praying for Avimelech and his household, and they are healed. The Torah specifically states that the women were once more able to deliver their babies (Genesis 20:17-18).

The very next verse starts by saying that God “remembered what He had said… and Sarah conceived and bore a son to Abraham…” Rashi comments on the juxtaposition of verses: since Abraham prayed for Avimelech’s home to be fruitful, so too was his own home made fruitful. The lesson: one who prays for the needs of another, while having the same need, will also have his or her need fulfilled. The key to successful prayer is not constantly begging for one’s own needs, but instead, to focus (sincerely, of course) on the wellbeing of others.


In the final major passage of the parasha we read of the Akeidah, the “binding of Isaac”. God commands Abraham to do something that seems both immoral and illogical. To be fair, despite the fact that most people assume God commanded Abraham to sacrifice his son, the exact Hebrew wording never mentions killing or death, but simply asks Abraham to “elevate” Isaac. Nonetheless, Abraham himself believed God asked him to have Isaac sacrificed, perhaps in the spirit of the day when human sacrifice was common. We cannot imagine how difficult this must have been for Abraham, especially since Isaac was his long-awaited son.

God tells Abraham: “Please take your son, your only one, whom you love, Isaac…” (Genesis 22:2). Why the redundancy in wording? Couldn’t God just say “Please take your son” or “Please take Isaac”? Rashi answers by quoting a beautiful midrash: God initially said “Please take your son”. Abraham, knowing where this was probably going, said “I have two sons” (referring to Ishmael, his son from Hagar). God said “your only one”, since by this point Ishmael had been expelled, and it was already clear that Isaac would inherit the Covenant. Abraham replied that, nevertheless, they are both his “only sons” – Ishmael his only son through Hagar, and Isaac his only son through Sarah. So God said “whom you love”, and Abraham quickly replied that he loves both of them. Finally, God explicitly said “Isaac”. Rashi finishes by saying that God rewarded Abraham for each of these expressions, in lovingly trying to avoid the difficult test.

Despite this, the Torah says that Abraham “arose early in the morning” to fulfil God’s test. This is the third time where the exact phrasing is used, describing Abraham as arising early in the morning. It is from this that the tradition of Abraham instituting shacharit, the morning prayer, comes from. Abraham was an early bird, and a diligent man that got all of his work done promptly. This is another great lesson from the first of our forefathers.

Rabbi Dosa ben Harkinas tells us in the Mishnah (Avot 3:10) that sleeping in in the morning is one of four things that guarantee a person will fail in this world (the others being drinking alcohol in the day, being childish, and spending time in places where ignorant people gather). How can one sleep in when there is so much to be done? So many goals to accomplish, and so many mitzvot to fulfil; so many opportunities to take advantage of, and so much wisdom to study; so many things to explore, so many people to help, and so many lives to change. To end with the words of Rabbi Tarfon (Avot 2:15): “The day is short, and the work is abundant, but the workers are lazy, although there is much reward, and the Master is pressing…”