Parshat Vayera begins with three angels visiting Abraham, to tell him and Sarah that they will have a son. God tells Abraham of his plans to destroy Sedom, and Abraham attempts to prevent the destruction, but without success. Sarah gives birth to Isaac, but Hagar and Ishmael are forced to leave Abraham’s home. The parsha concludes with the story of God commanding Abraham to sacrifice Isaac.
Lawrence Kushner is the Emanu-El Scholar in-residence at the Congregation Emanu-El of San Francisco, where he devotes his full energies to teaching and writing. He also serves as Visiting Professor of Jewish Spirituality at the Graduate Theological University in Berkeley.
"And it came to pass after these things that God tested Abraham and said to him, 'Abraham.' And he said, 'I am ready.' And He said, 'Take your son, your only one, whom you love, Isaac and go forth to the Land of Moriah and sacrifice him there on one of the mountains I will designate. So Abraham got up early in the morning, saddled his ass and took two of his servants with him and Isaac his son. And he split the wood for the sacrifice. Then he arose and went to the place that God had said. And on the third day, Abraham raised his eyes and, off in the distance, he saw the place." (Genesis 22:1-4)
According to the Midrash, this was the last of ten trials by which God tested Abraham. The first began with the same conspicuous Hebrew phrase "lekh-lekha, go forth [for yourself]", when God told Abraham to leave his own father's house. The story thus ends the way it began: "Lekh-lekha, go forth [for yourself]". The boy is father to the man. It's so primal, it's the touchstone for all religious learning. Why else would the rabbis have us read, of all things, such an awe-full story on Rosh Hashanah? The parents whisper to their progeny, "You know, I almost killed you once." "Happy New Year, Daddy." "Sit up straight."
On two separate occasions, the text says of Abraham and Isaac, "And they went, both of them together." But after whatever it was that happened up there on that peak, we read only, "And Abraham returned to his servants." Isaac, we must assume went down the other side, alone.
The name of the mountain, Moriah, means awe-full. Tradition claims it will become the site of the Temple, the center of the world. Not Sinai, where the Torah was given, that's ownerless and unknown. The holiest place that's known is the scene of a near sacrifice. The Temple is built where the older generation almost kills the younger but forbears at the last possible moment. Only a three-day's journey from home. If you raise your eyes, you can see it off in the distance.
From my recent book: FIVE CITIES OF REFUGE: Reflections on Genesis, Exodus, Leviticus, Numbers and Deuteronomy (with David Mamet)
Vayera contains the story of the three strangers visiting Abraham, the genesis of the Jewish concept of "hachnasat orchim" (welcoming strangers), hospitality.
Which is more important? Our relationship with G-d and our own personal spirituality, or our social responsibility? Abraham interrupted his conversation with G-d to run and welcome his guests and prepare them a meal. As the Talmud tells us: "Welcoming guests is greater than welcoming the divine presence" (Shabbat 127a).
But sometimes – maybe - you can get both.
I recently saw a very powerful Israeli movie, Ushpizin (holy guests), about a poor born-again Breslover chasid who has surprise guests to his Jerusalem Succah. This ultra-orthodox couple are truly tested around the mitzvah of hospitality, as well as in their faith. While I don’t want to give away the plot, the elevator pitch for this film would surely be "there is a G-d and he delivers."