When one studies a Talmudic sugya, one must differentiate between the hava amina (the hypothetical assumption advanced but ultimately rejected by the Gemara) and the masqanah (the normative conclusion of the sugya). To be sure, a lamdan will attempt to formulate and conceptualize the hava amina as well as the masqanah, and to recognize which elements of the supposed hava amina are retained in the masqanah. But a talmid hakham, having mastered the masa u-matan (back and forth) of the Gemara, must never forget that it is davka the masqanah, the conclusion of the Gemara, which is normative.

I believe that we should not forget these guidelines when we study the biblical narrative of the ‘Aqedah. The hava amina of the ‘Aqedah is clear: one must always submit to the will of the Almighty, even if the will of the Almighty is to commit, God forbid, what seems to us to be a murder. The 19th century Danish philosopher and theologian Soren Kierkegaard tried to imagine what Abraham had to go through to accomplish this submission; in his book Fear and Trembling he presents numerous imaginary hypotheses. But the conclusion of all of them is the same: the ‘Aqedah constituted a “teleological suspension of the ethical:” Abraham had to realize that being truly religious means not doing what he thinks is correct but doing what God thinks is correct. And if that meant sacrificing the only son of his old age, so be it.

In this vein, it may be appropriate to discuss and quote at length one of the hypotheses of Kierkegaard, as he thought through the hava amina of the ‘Aqedah. The Danish philosopher (le-havdil) does not follow the notion, presumed in numerous statements of Hazal, that Yitzhak willingly consented to be killed. On the contrary, he follows the view (a position adopted, among others, by the ibn Ezra) that the ‘Aqedah was performed against Yitzhak’s will!

Another question that Kierkegaard deals with is the following: did Abraham explicitly tell Yitzhak that he was going to be sacrificed before he actually bound his son Isaac, before he laid him on the altar, on top of the wood (Genesis 22:9)? Among our mepharshim, various views exist. Rashi, of course, understands that when Abraham told Yitzhak. God will see to the sheep for his burnt offering, my son (Genesis 22:8), he hinted to his son that he (Yitzhak) will be the sacrifice. But Rashi also understands that Yitzhak offered himself willingly as a sacrifice. On the other hand, for example, Shadal (R. Shmuel David Luzzatto), wrote that the passage need not be interpreted in that fashion, and that until the actual placement of Yitzhak on the altar, Yitzhak may not have known what was about to happen. Kierkegaard, for his part, assumes that Abraham did tell Yitzhak of the Will of God. But what if Abraham told Yitzhak but Yitzhak could still not comprehend how God could demand such an act?

Kierkegaard poses the following questions: Before the angel told Abraham not to kill Yitzhak, when Yitzhak thought that he was going to die, did Yitzhak finally accept that the sacrifice was the will of God? Moreover, would Abraham simply go through with it, demanding that Yitzhak accept the Will of God if Yitzhak could not understand how a good God could possibly wish that he should die? It was hard enough for Abraham to perform the ‘Aqedah! How could he additionally demand that Yitzhak also go through with it and simultaneously believe that such an ostensibly cruel act was the will of God? And if Yitzhak could not understand it, could Abraham go through with the ‘Aqedah and keep his son’s faith in God intact?

Kierkegaard (Fear and Trembling, edited and translated by Howard V. Hong and Edna H. Hong [Princeton, New Jersey, 1983], pp. 10-11) imaginatively proposes that immediately before the ‘Aqedah perhaps Abraham made Yitzhak believe that he, Abraham, was sacrificing his son not as an act of devotion to the true God, but as an act of debased paganism. Thus, in Abraham’s mind, if Yitzhak would have to die, he would die with the content of his emunah, namely, that the one true God is a merciful God, firmly intact. He writes as follows:

…Abraham said to himself, “I will not hide from Isaac where this walk is taking him.” He stood still, he laid his hand on Isaac’s head in blessing, and Isaac kneeled to receive it. And Abraham’s face epitomized fatherliness, his gaze was gentle, his words admonishing. But Isaac could not understand him; his soul could not be uplifted; he clasped Abraham’s knees, he pleaded at his feet, he begged for his young life, for his beautiful hopes, he called to mind the joy in Abraham’s house, he called to mind the sorrow and the solitude. Then Abraham lifted the boy up and walked on, holding his hand, and his words were full of comfort and admonition. But Isaac could not understand him. Abraham climbed Mount Moriah, but Isaac did not understand him. Then Abraham turned away for a moment, but when Isaac saw Abraham’s face again it had changed: his gaze was wild, his whole being was sheer terror. He seized Isaac by the chest, threw him to the ground, and said, “Stupid boy, do you think I am your father? I am an idolater. Do you think it is God’s command? No, it is my desire.” Then Isaac trembled and cried out in his anguish: “God in heaven, have mercy on me, God of Abraham, have mercy on me; if I have no father on earth then You be my father!” but Abraham said softly to himself, “L-rd God in heaven, I thank you; it is better that he believes me a monster than that he should lose faith in you.”

Of course, the masqanah of the ‘Aqedah was that God does not desire human sacrifice. When “an angel of the L-RD called to him from heaven” and said “Abraham! Abraham....!” and said, “Do not raise your hand against the boy or do anything to him. For now I know that you fear God, since you have not withheld your son, your favored son, from Me… (Genesis 22:11-12)” the masqanah changes the conceptual substructure that was expressed in the hava amina. True, one must always submit to the will of the Almighty. But the will of the Almighty is that one should never offer other human beings as sacrificial lambs.

Kierkegaard did not focus on the masqanah of the ‘Aqedah. But as believing Jews, we must understand the masqanah as well as the hava amina.

Joseph ibn Kaspi, who stresses the masqanah of the ‘Aqedah, writes as follows:

…For this reason, the verse is careful to say that when He, may He be blessed, commanded this act, it was only by way of a test. Heaven forbid that He would command in such a manner as to intend its fulfillment. The purpose (of the command) was to uproot, undermine, and weaken the established belief that was in the heart of the people that those who are punctiliously careful take of their children to make sacrifices to their gods. Furthermore, while it is true that He who gave the Torah permitted them to take other forms of life (i.e., animals) as sacrifice to the L-RD our God, as an expression of guilt, Heaven forbid that the human species would be used for this purpose. This even includes the prohibition against passing (a human being) through the fire (even without sacrificing him)… (Basil Herring, Joseph ibn Kaspi’s Gevia‘ Kesef: A Study in Medieval Jewish Philosophic Bible Commentary  [New York, 1982], pp. 219ff.) (Among other authorities, Shadal also emphasizes the masqanah of the ‘Aqedah.)

In this particular hypothetical reconstruction, Kierkegaard does not discuss what happened between Abraham and Yitzhak after the ‘Aqedah. Is it possible to use his reconstruction of the hava amina and integrate it with an understanding of the masqanah, that human sacrifice is absolutely repugnant to God? I believe that the answer is yes.

Perhaps, the Maimonidean notion that one’s intellect should contain correct notions of God in order for it to attain eternity (eternity of the intellect=immortality of the soul=olam ha-ba) might provide the beginnings of an appropriate masqanah that can repair the tensions revealed in this particular hava amina.   It is an axiom of Judaism that God’s actions are good. If we do not understand them, then one’s response must be an admission of lack of understanding, not a rejection of that premise. Consequently, when Abraham attempted to ensure that Yitzhak would retain a notion of God’s goodness even at the moment of death, and not reject that conception of God, he was in essence attempting to ensure that Yitzhak would still be able to obtain his measure of olam ha-ba.

When it emerged that Yitzhak’s intuitive understanding of what God could not possibly want was correct, and that human sacrifice was indeed repugnant to God, perhaps Abraham would then tell Yitzhak everything, including his reason for disguising himself as a pagan. “Why did you make believe that you were sacrificing me as a pagan would sacrifice his son?” Yitzhak could have asked. Perhaps, following ibn Kaspi and Shadal, Abraham could have told Yitzhak something along the following lines: “I mistakenly thought that God wants a human sacrifice. Consequently, in spite of my love for you, I resolved with a broken heart to go through with it. When I saw that you could not understand why God could demand such a sacrifice, I reasoned that it is better that you think that I am a monster than that you retain an incorrect conception of God, thereby, losing faith. And I wanted you to keep your faith because I felt that if you indeed have to die and lose olam ha-zeh, I wanted with all my heart for you to at least receive olam ha-ba!”

Yitzhak could have realized at that point the extent of Abraham’s love and concern, how Abraham cared passionately about the immortality of his [Yitzhak’s] soul in olam ha-ba. This realization itself could have allowed him to “return” to his father.

Abraham might have continued as follows: “But in turns out, my darling Yitzhak, that you were correct. God only wanted a test. Thus, we still have each other not only in olam ha-ba, but even in olam ha-zeh as well.  And we can rejoice in that fact together.”

After the ‘Aqedah, when Abraham and Yitzhak returned from Har Ha-Moriah, the Torah states: Abraham then returned to his servants, and they departed together for Be’er-sheba, and Abraham stayed in Be’er-sheba (Genesis 22:19). (Genesis 22:5 had informed us that he had left his servants behind when he accompanied Yitzhak to Har Ha-Moriah.) What is meant by the word together? Is it merely a description of physical propinquity? True, Abraham, his servants, and Isaac all journeyed home. But the intensity of the return could not have been the same for the servants as it was for Abraham and Yitzhak! With respect to Abraham and Yitzhak, and in light of the above, I would homiletically suggest the following: Perhaps it indicates that Abraham and Yitzhak recaptured- for the remainder of their lives in olam ha-zeh- the full measure of the emotional, intellectual and spiritual/religious bond that they had with each other before the ‘Aqdeah as well.

The heavens belong to the L-RD

But the earth He gave over to man.

The dead cannot praise the L-RD

Nor any who go down into silence.

But we will bless the L-RD

Now and forever. Hallelujah. (Psalms 115:16-18)