The Akedah, or binding of Isaac (Genesis 22:1–19), [1] is a formative passage in Jewish tradition. It plays a central role on Rosh haShanah, and many communities include this passage in their early morning daily liturgy. What should we learn from this jarring narrative with regard to faith and religious life?
In light of the new Pew study on Jewish affiliation, there will be a lot of hand-wringing about what the Jewish community can do to get people more engaged. My revolutionary suggestion? Get to synagogue
Where have all the idealistic student protesters gone? Why are their tents folded up and their bullhorns silent?
Where are the humanitarians with their placards demanding “Stop the Arab Genocide” and “Free Sudan”?
Where are the passionate op-eds and the politicians pointing accusing fingers?
The Torah omits words of thanks from the Cohanim and Levites to teach an important lesson: we are to do the right thing because we want to stand in the presence of God and say: “I’ve done as well as possible.” Our self-worth is not to be determined by what others say or don’t say, but by what we can say about ourselves before God.
It is no coincidence that this Mitzvah of Bikkurim is read in the Torah two weeks before Rosh HaShanah, the special time of renewal. Every year, we are faced with the challenge of finding a new way to bring in the year.
Lekh Lekha:
Abraham and Sarah’s Laughter
When God promises Abraham and Sarah that they will have a son in their old age, both respond with laughter. Their reactions appear remarkably similar, yet God responds to them differently. Abraham receives reassurance, while Sarah is challenged for her apparent disbelief. Why does God treat their seemingly identical reactions so differently?
The legal institution of yibbum ultimately points beyond the law itself to enduring Torah values: preserving families, protecting the vulnerable, and sustaining the covenantal community through acts of love and responsibility.
The Torah commands us not to harbor endless hatred for those who have persecuted us. It also teaches us that there are really wonderful people who overcome the hateful anti-Jewish stereotypes of their families/societies, and who embrace Judaism and the Jewish People. And we embrace them for their wisdom and courage. We need more of them.
Life doesn't have to be--and should not be--a rat race. We each have the power and responsibility to assert our freedom and autonomy, to consider our souls as well as our bodies. May the forthcoming holy days be a time of spiritual growth and purification.
How wonderful it would be if instead of shandas and stoopers, we had courageous leaders who refused to be part of any “big tent” that included antisemites, racists and those who would slander and undermine the state of Israel. Wouldn’t it be heartening to have Jewish profiles in courage instead of defilers of courage?