PARSHAS VAYERA 5776

In this week’s parsha we learn of the akeida, in which Avraham is commanded to offer his son, Yitzchak, on the mizbe’ach as a korban. Just before Avraham was about to bring the knife against his son, an angel commanded him: “Do not stretch out your hand against the lad, nor do anything to him.” The angel added the words “nor do anything to him” because Avraham’s initial response was: “Have I come here for nothing? Let me make a wound and extract some blood” (Rashi 22:12).

If Hashem told Avraham not to kill, what logic was there in trying to “at least make a wound?” Moreover, how could Hashem have altered His command?

The sages say that Hashem in fact did not alter the command, rather His intent had been only that Avraham place Yitzchak atop the mizbe’ach, and not that he actually slaughter him (ibid.). This explanation raises another difficulty, though: In describing how prophecy works, the Rambam writes: “What is informed to a prophet comes as an apparition by way of an analogy. The explanation of the analogy becomes engraved upon his heart at once and he understands it” (Yesodei HaTorah 7:3). Clearly, Avraham did not misunderstand Hashem’s command.

Rav Gedalia Shor explains that usually, Hashem wants us to fulfill mitzvos in the actual sense. It is not enough for a person to say, “Hashem, my heart is in the right place; please consider it as if I did a mitzvah.” The problem with such thinking is twofold: First, one will not bring his noble intentions to fruition in the physical realm. Second, the intention itself is weak; a fleeting notion with no decisiveness behind it.

In this particular case, however, Hashem saw that Avraham’s commitment to do the akeida was so infused with subjugation to His will that He didn’t need him to go any further. For Avraham, the act of bringing Yitzchak upon the mizbe’ach fulfilled Hashem’s command in the fullest sense.

There was never any misunderstanding of the commandment. The chiddush was that Avraham’s utter subjugation was itself the fulfillment that Hashem wanted.

We can now understand why Avraham thought that if the angel told him not to kill Yitzchak, he should at least extract some blood from him. Avraham was not told that his intense subjugation to Hashem’s will qualified as actual fulfillment of His command. He therefore reasoned: “My resolve to sacrifice Yitzchak must not remain a fleeting thought and nothing more! What is a thought without an action? I must express it in some way!”

Hashem’s response, as said above, was that this case was different. As the sages express it, in Hashem’s eyes, “Yitzchak’s ashes are before Me at all times” (Zevachim 62a). It is as if he was actually brought as a burnt offering on the mizbe’ach.

We can derive from this the greatness of pure intentions and subjugation to Hashem. In Avraham’s case, his intent and subjugation to Hashem were so intense that they replaced the need for action. Our intentions are surely not on such an exalted level as Avraham’s, yet even for us, the sages note that “if a person intended to do a mitzvah and was prevented from doing so, Hashem views it as if he had done it” (Brachos 6a). When does this apply, however? Only when Hashem Himself can testify that we sincerely wanted to fulfill the mitzvah, but circumstances rendered it impossible. If an “urgent” phone call makes us late to davening but not to supper, it is our subjugation to Hashem that is lacking.

We also learn how important it is to bring good thoughts into the realm of action. If we are inspired to do something positive in avodas Hashem, we should start it right away, at least partially. If we cannot, we still must not leave it in the realm of thought alone. We should try to discuss the idea with a friend or write it down. If no one is around and we don’t have a pen and paper, we should at least speak the idea out loud to ourselves. The main thing is that we get the idea into the realm of action.

Rav Yisrael Salanter would cite a mysterious episode in Brachos 18a as a lesson for translating one’s thoughts into action. Once, on erev Rosh Hashana, a poor man gave tzedaka that his wife felt they could not afford (it was a time of famine). When the husband noticed that his wife was upset at him, he went to sleep that night in a cemetery.

“What could possibly have brought this man to sleep in cemetery, a place of tum’ah, particularly on Rosh Hashana?” asked Rav Salanter. “Apparently, his wife’s behavior had made him angry, too, and he knew that anger is a sin that must be corrected at once. He did so through an exceptional action. He got up, left his house and went to the cemetery, because he knew that anger stems from self-pride, and coming face to face with his own mortality would put his self-pride into the proper perspective.”

May we bring our good thoughts into the realm of action!

Exciting news! Rabbi Krieger will soon be publishing a sefer featuring the “best” of the weekly Parsha sheet. If you would like to share in this celebration, please go to www.bircas.org for further details.