From: Yeshivat Har Etzion Office <office@etzion.org.il>
To: yhe-parsha@etzion.org.il
Subject: PARSHA62 -04: Parashat Vayera
YESHIVAT HAR ETZION
ISRAEL KOSCHITZKY VIRTUAL BEIT MIDRASH (VBM)
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PARASHAT VAYERA
"But My Covenant I Shall Establish with Yitzchak"
(Bereishit 17:21)
By Rav Chanoch Waxman
I.
Great joy, happiness and mirth: these are the
central motifs of the first part of Bereishit Chapter
Twenty-One, the story of the birth of Yitzchak. For
example, shortly after reporting Yitzchak's birth and
naming (Bereishit 21:1-4), the Torah describes Sarah's
reaction:
And God has made laughter (tzechok) for me, so that
all who hear will laugh (yitzchak) with me. And she
said, Who would have said to Avraham, that Sarah
should give children suck? For I have borne Avraham
a son in his old age. (21:6-7)
Sarah celebrates God's miracle. It is an occasion
for wondrous astonishment and joy, for herself, Avraham,
and all who hear. In fact, Yitzchak's very name means
"laughter" and symbolizes the joy and celebration. In
line with this theme, the stem Tz-Ch-K, meaning laughter,
appears repeatedly throughout the chapter
(21:3,4,5,6,8,9,10,12).
Nevertheless, all is not just merriment and mirth in
this story. Sarah's happiness is not yet complete.
Without even a pause after the post-birth celebration
(21:6-7), the Torah moves to describing the events of the
day of Yitzchak's weaning. Upon seeing "the son of Hagar
the Egyptian" engaged in "laughter," Sarah demands that
the "slave" and her "son" be sent away (21:10). In
Sarah's own words: ".for the son of this bondwoman shall
not be heir with my son, with Yitzchak" (ibid.). There
is yet a fly in the ointment, a reminder of Sarah's long
years of childlessness, degradation, and humiliation (see
12:12-16, 16:1-5). Sarah insists that the maidservant
and her son be expelled and all be conferred upon
Yitzchak, the only authentic heir (Ibn Ezra, Rashbam,
Ramban). Despite Avraham's hesitation and worry
regarding his son (21:11), God sides with Sarah (21:12-
13). Hagar and Yishmael are cast out (21:14-21).
The structure of the chapter and the sinister turn
outlined above are of course understandable. The chapter
is really about the "Triumph of Sarah." The first
section (21:1-5) describes God's "remembering" of Sarah
and the birth of Yitzchak, the first component in Sarah's
vindication. The third section (21:14-21) depicts the
expulsion of Yishmael, the second component in Sarah's
victory. The middle section (21:5-13), analyzed above,
provides the cause of Yishmael's expulsion, provides
insight into the attitudes of the crucial characters, and
acts as a transition between the two components of
Sarah's triumph.
But herein lies the nub of the matter. While we can
easily parse Avraham's hesitation, and at least part of
Sarah's motivation, we cannot so easily fathom God's
confirmation of Sarah's demand. Why does He agree? What
has Yishmael done besides laugh? Does God simply wish to
grant Sarah her wish? Are Hagar and Yishmael unsuitable
in some way? Are we to chalk this up to the ever-
mysterious divine wisdom? In sum, what in fact is the
real cause of the expulsion of Yishmael?
II.
Let us turn to the third part of Chapter Twenty-One
(21:14-21), the actual expulsion of Yishmael, treated
above as no more than the second component of the
vindication of Sarah, part and parcel of the "Triumph of
Sarah."
The action unfolds as follows. Avraham gets up
early in the morning, provides Hagar and Yishmael with
provisions, and sends them away. They leave, wandering
aimlessly in the desert (21:15). At this point, a crisis
ensues: they run out of water. Hagar, convinced that
Yishmael faces death, abandons him, and breaks down
crying (21:15-16). But all is not lost. An angel of God
calls to Hagar from heaven, reassures her, reunites her
with Yishmael, provides water and promises great
nationhood (21:17-20). Finally, we are told of
Yishmael's marriage (21:21).
On some plane, it is difficult to maintain our
previous interpretation of the section as no more than
the second stage of Sarah's vindication. For such a
purpose, the Torah need only teach us the bare fact of
the expulsion, the very first verse of the story. As a
story of the triumph of Sarah, no more need be said. If
we imagine ourselves as typical pro-Sarah readers eager
to enjoy our foremother's triumph, we might ask: Why do
we need to know the details? Who really cares about Hagar
and Yishmael's crisis in the desert, the near death
experience, the divine rescue, the promises and the
marriage? Quite clearly, and counter to our first reading
of the chapter, the story is in some real sense about
Hagar and Yishmael. But once again, why do we need to
know? In more analytic terminology, why does the Torah
provide a detailed version of the "Ordeal of Hagar and
Yishmael?"
Let us complicate the issue a little further. Upon
close analysis, the ordeal of Hagar and Yishmael bears a
striking resemblance to another story in Parashat Vayera.
The narrative opens with the phrase, "And Avraham got up
early in the morning," and depicts him as "taking"
(21:14). No reader of the Bible can miss the echo. This
is Avraham's first action in the "Akeida," the story of
the binding of Isaac. In the Akeida, the Torah utilizes
the exact same phrase: "And Avraham got up early in the
morning," and likewise depicts him as "taking" (22:3).
This parallel is not just linguistic. In both cases
Avraham rises early to accomplish a divine command. In
both cases, the divine command involves a final parting
from a son, the expulsion of Yishmael and the sacrifice
of Yitzchak (21:11-12, 22:1-2).
All of this is just the tip of the iceberg. In both
cases a young lad, referred to by the term "ha-na'ar"
(21:17-20, 22:5,12), is endangered in the course of a
journey. The respective journeys are described by a term
comprising a variation on the verb stem H-L-Kh, meaning
"go" (21:14, 22:2-3). Furthermore, in both cases the
danger threatens the lad as a result of the action of a
parent. Hagar wanders aimlessly in the desert, and when
dehydration consequently threatens, casts her son away,
leaving him to die under one of the shrubs (21:15-17).
The danger to Yitzchak also stems from a parent. It is
the hand and knife of Avraham that threaten Yitzchak's
life (22:10).
More strikingly, in the respective climaxes of the
stories the endangered lad is saved by the call of an
angel of God, sounding from heaven (21:17, 22:11). In
each case, the heavenly intervention is followed by
"seeing," a vision that provides the solution to the
problem of imminent death: water in the case of Yishmael
(21:19), and the ram (as an alternate sacrifice) in the
case of Yitzchak (22:13). Furthermore, in both cases the
angel reiterates the promise of future nationhood before
departing (21:18, 22:17-18).
Finally, after depicting the young man as having
survived his life-threatening ordeal, both narratives
turn towards marriage. Chapter Twenty-One, the story of
Yishmael, informs us of Yishmael's marriage (21:21). On
a similar note, Chapter Twenty Two, the story of
Yitzchak, closes with the genealogy of Nachor, focusing
on the birth of Rivka, the future wife of our once
endangered and now saved youth.
How are we to evaluate this parallel to the "Binding
of Isaac?" What does this mean for interpreting the
latter part of Chapter Twenty-One and its inclusion in
the Torah?
III.
Recently, some interpreters have begun to refer to
the latter half of Chapter Twenty-One as "Akeidat
Yishmael." According to this line of thinking, the
significance of the parallels sketched above lies in the
revelation that there is in fact more than one story in
the Torah detailing Avraham's submission to the divine
will and subsequent "sacrifice" of a son: not just
"Akeidat Yitzchak," but also "Akeidat Yishmael," the
"binding" (or rather expulsion) of Yishmael. Like many
events in Avraham's life, the Akeida happens twice.
Moreover, in a certain sense, the first Akeida ia
necessary pre-condition for the second. After all, part
of the test of "Akeidat Yitzchak" is the fact that all of
Avraham's hopes now reside in Yitzchak. This psychology
results not just from the divine decree that ".in
Yitzchak shall your seed be called" (21:12), but also
from the brute fact that Yitzchak is now effectively the
only child.
While this is undoubtedly correct, it is only a
partial understanding. Interpreting the latter half of
Chapter Twenty-One as a precursor Akeida renders the
story a narrative about Avraham, his challenge, his test
and his success. But once again, we are no further along
than before. The details of the "Expulsion of Yishmael"
seem to be about Hagar and Yishmael, not about the
triumph of Sarah, nor about the trial of Avraham.
A review of the parallel between the two stories
outlined above should help reinforce this point. Let us
try to reduce the joint paradigm to its bare logical
bones. In stage one, God orders Avraham to part from a
son. In stage two, the lad and a parent (Yishmael-Hagar
or Yitzchak- Avraham) go on a journey. Next, in stage
three, during the course of the journey and through the
action of the parent, the lad faces life-threatening
danger. In stage four, the lad is saved by divine
intervention and promised future nationhood. Finally, in
stage five, we are given a glimpse of that promised
future through a reference to marriage.
This is not just the paradigm of Akeida, the test of
Avraham's faith. It is also a paradigm of "Journey,
Danger and Rescue." The paradigm describes the
"maturation journey," the "rite of passage" of the future
progenitor of a nation who undergoes a near-death
experience before being saved by God. As such, these
stories are not just about Avraham and God, they are also
about Yitzchak and Yishmael. As "Akeida," the stories
are about sacrifice and theological truths. As "Journey,
Danger and Rescue," they are not just about theological
truths. They are also about the parent-child pair and
their journey into the crucible of crisis and impending
death.
IV.
Defining the common denominator of the "Expulsion of
Yishmael" and "Akeidat Yitzchak" as a Yitzchak-Yishmael
and parent-child focused paradigm should make us realize
that perhaps the differences between the two stories are
even more significant than the similarities. Let us turn
our attention to some of the more obvious disparities.
In the Akeida, Avraham faces a frightening test.
Despite all of God's previous promises, he is now
required to give up his son -- an apparently inexplicable
and final reversal. Part of the dramatic tension of the
narrative is how Avraham will react to the command, how
he will hold up during the ordeal. The Torah relates to
these questions in a clear fashion. Avraham is depicted
as determined, purposeful and courageous. He gets up
early in the morning, prepares the wood, takes Yitzchak
and sets out (22:3). The strange nature of the journey,
in which Avraham and Yitzchak set out for and arrive at
"the place," the divinely chosen place, despite the lack
of specific directions, further reinforces this point
(22:2-4). Of course, it is Avraham's near performance of
the act that most greatly emphasizes the themes of
purpose, determination and courage.
To a great extent, these themes also characterize
Yitzchak's actions in his own ordeal. Undoubtedly, as
pointed out by Rashi (22:8), Yitzchak knows what is going
on. Yitzchak's dramatic question, "Behold the fire and
the wood: but where is the lamb for offering?" (22:7),
already hints at Yitzchak's realization. Leaving behind
the servants and failing to bring an animal can only mean
one thing. Avraham's tantalizing reply, "God will show
the lamb for sacrifice, my son," containing the clear
conjunction of "sacrifice" and "son" (22:8), merely
confirms Yitzchak's nascent knowledge. No further
dialogue ensues. Yitzchak soldiers on carrying the wood
for his own sacrifice (22:6,8). He neither cries nor
begs for mercy. He is purposeful, determined and
courageous. He too, in the famous phrase, is a "knight
of faith."
The text not only emphasizes the parallel qualities
of purpose and courage in Avraham and Yitzchak, but also
their unity and togetherness. The Torah utilizes the
phrase, "And the two of them went together (yachdav)," or
a variation, three times throughout the narrative -- not
just before Yitzchak's full realization of the plan
(22:6), but also after Avraham has all but told him
outright (22:8, Rashi); not just before Avraham put the
knife to Yitzchak's throat, but also after, on the
journey home (22:19). There is no breakdown, no
collapse, and no division in the ordeal of Avraham and
Yitzchak, in their story of "Journey, Danger and Rescue."
This picture mutates radically if we shift back to
the first "Journey, Danger and Rescue" story. Unlike
Avraham, Hagar possesses no reason to think that the
previously granted divine promises have been revoked.
After all, the previous promise of future nationhood for
her children included "suffering under her mistress's
hand" (16:9-12). If anything, her expulsion from Sarah's
house should appear as an opportunity to put the stage of
suffering behind her and move on to a new and promising
future. Yet Hagar's behavior in her journey is neither
purposeful, determined nor courageous. In despair, she
wanders (21:14), turning her journey into a movement to
anywhere or nowhere, the opposite of Avraham's mysterious
arrival at "the place." In her purposeless wandering,
she endangers her son. In her despair, she casts him
away and breaks down crying.
The attitude of despair and breakdown that animates
Hagar also spills over to Yishmael. During the preface
to the divine rescue, the Torah states that "God heard
the voice of the lad" (21:17), a clear echo of the crying
"voice" of Hagar just four words previously. Just as
Hagar breaks down and cries, so too Yishmael.
Furthermore, let us not forget Yishmael's age. He is at
least sixteen years old. His passivity in the story is
not the restraint of determination and sacrifice, but of
disintegration and tears. Finally, let us not forget
verse sixteen:
And she went, and sat down over and against him at
the distance of a bowshot, for she said, Let me not
see the death of the child. And she sat away from
him and lifted up her voice and cried.
In pointed contrast to the "yachdav," the togetherness of
Avraham and Yitzchak, Hagar and Yishmael are divided,
physically and existentially separate. This is their
story of "Journey, Danger and Rescue," a story not of
purpose, unity and togetherness in the face of justified
cause for despair, but of despair, wandering, breakdown
and division.
V.
We began our analysis of Chapter Twenty-One with a
question. What is the reason for Yishmael's expulsion?
Why did God agree to Sarah's demand? As alluded
previously, numerous responses have been proposed,
ranging from sinful behavior on the part of Yishmael
(Rashi 21:9), to the currently popular metaphysical
doctrine that the chosen nation can be formed only
through the process of "choosing," the pushing aside or
purging of one of two possible heirs.
In analyzing the details of the third part of the
chapter, the "Expulsion of Yishmael," treating it as a
"Journey, Danger and Rescue" story and contrasting it
with another such story of that type, "Akeidat Yitzchak,"
I have implicitly argued for a new explanation of God's
acquiescence. Unlike us, the readers of the Bible, or
even Avraham and Sarah, God knows the future. God knows
the character and capabilities of Avraham and Hagar, of
Yitzchak and Yishmael. God knows how Avraham and
Yitzchak will react to the Akeida, to the ordeal of
"Journey, Danger and Rescue." He already apprehends
their capacities for faith, courage, purposefulness and
togetherness. He knows they are cut from a certain
cloth.
Likewise, he knows the essence of Hagar and her son
Yishmael. He knows how they will respond to their
comparatively mild trial of faith, their journey and
danger. He knows that despair, division and breakdown
are not the best materials from which to mold the nation
of Consequently, just as God first chose the long-
suffering Sarah and her child Yitzchak in the covenant of
circumcision (17:15,19,21), so too God chooses Sarah and
her child Yitzchak here in Chapter Twenty-One.
To close the circle, the details of the "Expulsion
of Yishmael" and the implied contrast to Akeidat Yitzchak
are about letting us, the readers, in on these insights.
By reading on, grasping what the character of faith is
about and grasping what it is not about, we may also have
begun to grasp the rationale for God's decision.
VI.
Before closing, I would like to explore another
contrast between our two "Journey, Danger and Rescue"
stories, specifically regarding the "Rescue" sections.
The rescue of Yishmael results from God's "hearing."
This phrase appears as a preface to the angelic
interference: "God heard the voice of the lad" (21:17),
and in the angel's reassurance of Hagar: "Fear not, for
God has heard the voice of the lad" (ibid.). This
"explanation" of the rescue is not the least bit
surprising. It is the very model enshrined and
implicitly predicted in the naming of Yishmael (16:11).
God hears the suffering of the downtrodden and oppressed,
the expelled and the outcast. As pointed out last week,
it is a key component in the paradigm of "Oppression and
Redemption," what I termed last week God's standard way
of running the world.
In fact, we may identify at least four distinct ways
in which the rescue of Yishmael is unsurprising. First,
as mentioned earlier, God has never contradicted His
earlier promise of nationhood for Yishmael. Second, as
argued here, the mode of rescue involves "hearing" the
pain and cries of the oppressed, a mode of rescue already
identified explicitly with Yishmael. Third, as I argued
last week and reiterated here, it is part of an almost
universal standard paradigm. Fourth, and finally, on a
visceral and emotional level we identify and empathize
with the rescue. It is only fair to save the suffering
outcast.
In contrast, the rescue of Yitzchak is not easily
explicable. In an shocking reversal, God has already
seemingly reversed His statement: "But My covenant I will
establish with Yitzchak" (17:21), and His declaration
that "In Yitzchak shall your seed be called" (21:12).
God has now demanded Yitzchak as a sacrifice. The rescue
constitutes a second, and in the context of the God-
Avraham relationship, shocking and radical reversal. For
Avraham, and for the reader who allows himself to forget
his prior education regarding the notion of "nisayon,"
trial and test, the rescue is wholly unexpected. It
comes as another surprise, a reversal of the reversal.
Not for naught does the Midrash emphasize Avraham's
inclination to somehow continue with the sacrifice (Rashi
22:12,13).
This theme of reversal is also hinted at in the time
frame in which the reversal-rescue takes place. We are
taught that "Avraham stretched out his hand, and he took
the knife to slaughter his son" (22:10). In the very
nick of time the angel called. It is almost too late.
Or is it perhaps already too late? In fact, we would
expect that no one can react that fast, can be diverted
when so focused. The reversal comes at the last minute,
or in a certain sense, after the last minute, when it
should have been too late.
Finally, the rescue is surprising in an emotional
and visceral sense. Just as Avraham has submitted to the
divine will and readied himself for sacrificing his son,
so too we the readers of the Akeida have already
succumbed to the terrifying logic of the events about to
unfold. We have become numb and frightened by the power
of God's will, bereft of any moral intuition about what
should happen. Each time we are left relieved, gasping
at the mysteries of the divine will.
In sum, the story of Chapter Twenty-One, the rescue
of Yishmael, is marked by the expected, the normal, the
comprehensible -- the universal pattern of "Oppression
and Redemption." But the story of Chapter Twenty-Two,
the rescue of Yitzchak, is marked by something altogether
different: the concept of reversals, the unexpected, the
inaccessible, and the forever-mysterious divine will. It
constitutes a new pattern of redemption, defining a model
of "Contradiction and Reversals," inexplicable reversal-
difficulty followed by inexplicable reversal-redemption.
In fact, this distinction between the rescue of
Yishmael and the rescue of Yitzchak, the redemption model
of Yishmael's life and the redemption model of Yitzchak's
life, is not a new difference between them. It is an old
story.
Chapter Sixteen opens with the story of the
conception of Yishmael. Sarah is barren. In accord with
standard practice, Sarah grants Avraham her maidservant
and a child is conceived. Nothing strange. The story is
familiar, understandable, natural, part of the regular
way the world works. But not so the conception and birth
of Yitzchak. Sarah is barren, and in the natural scheme
barren women cannot conceive. The very promise seems
bizarre even to Avraham and Sarah. Whether joyously,
skeptically, or cynically, they laugh (17:17, 18:12). In
Avraham's own words: "Shall a child be born to him that
is a hundred years old? And shall Sarah, that is ninety
years old, give birth?" (17:17). It is absurd. But this
is exactly the point. It is "absurd," unnatural,
surprising and unexpected -- a certain kind of miracle.
It is the revivification of a barren woman at the age of
ninety, the paradigm of "Contradiction and Reversal."
Let us turn our attention one last time to the
expulsion of Yishmael, this time with a rich sense of the
Yitzchak-Yishmael contrast. This expulsion in fact
constitutes another "reversal," part of the Yitzchak-
Yishmael contrast pattern. Yishmael is the firstborn.
According to what might be termed the "iron law of
primogeniture" prevalent in the ancient Near East,
Yishmael cannot be expelled, exiled, replaced or
contradicted as heir. But such is not God's will; God
contradicts and reverses the natural, the normal way the
world works, replacing Yishmael with Yitzchak. He
reverses the natural and normal via one who in his birth
and near-death, as a child of a barren woman and as the
rescued in the Akeida, embodies and represents by virtue
of his sheer existence the concept of redemption through
"Reversal and Contradiction."
If so, we have perhaps arrived at a further
explanation of God's agreement with Sarah's demand. It
is not just about the character of Yitzchak. Rather, it
is also about broadcasting a message, the message of
"Contradiction and Reversal," the special and mysterious
means by which God runs the history of His chosen people,
Yitzchak and his descendants.
To conclude, the end of Chapter Twenty-One, the
story of Hagar and Yishmael, is not just extraneous
detail. Nor, for that matter, is God's affirmation of
Yishmael's expulsion completely inexplicable. Rather,
both the expulsion and the details of the subsequent
ordeal in the desert are part of a sustained comparison
of Yitzchak and Yishmael, part of an ongoing lesson in
both the character of faith and the nature of God's
providence.
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