And Abraham stretched forth his hand, and took the knife to slay his son. Then the angel of the Lord called him from heaven:  ‘Abraham! Abraham!’ and he answered, ‘Here am I.’ And he said, ‘Do not raise your hand against the boy, or do anything to him’. (Genesis 22:10-12)

Consider the play of hands in this canvas painting. The helpless hands behind Isaac’s back render him a passive sacrificial offering. As for the hands of the angel of the Lord – one hand dramatically arrests the violent act at the critical moment, and the other knocks the knife from Abraham’s hand.

But what is Rembrandt communicating through Abraham’s left hand? Why does he cover the face of his child? Does the murderous hand asphyxiate the boy and position his neck for slaughter? Or does Abraham cover Isaac’s face to spare him the sight of his father committing an unthinkable act? Or could it be that at the moment of terror Abraham, the compassionate father, utterly dedicated to upholding the divine commandment to slaughter Isaac, is nonetheless unable to look his beloved son in the eye?

Abraham’s face displays everything we would expect: confusion, shock, and total lack of comprehension. Having girded himself for this death march, he is taken aback when called to a sudden halt. How did Abraham reconcile this withdrawal of the divine command with the original directive? If it was not to be consummated, what then was the purpose of this difficult and perplexing ordeal?

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 one, from Me (Genesis 22:12).                                    

Abraham, with total willingness, bound his son Isaac for sacrifice. At the decisive moment when the knife was raised for slaughter, his hand is stayed by divine directive. Why would the God who commanded sacrifice rescind his command?

In his famous treatise Fear and Trembling, Soren Kierkegaard distinguishes between what he terms ‘ethical norms’ and ‘the teleological [i.e. for a purpose] suspension of the ethical’. In any other context, Abraham’s act would morally be considered murder; mere ethics, though, are suspended when we are directly commanded by God to act towards a cosmic goal. Obedience to the divine command, no matter how irrational, is the only matter of any relevance. Through submission to God’s will, man is transformed into a knight of faith, and thereby forges his spiritual self.

Viewing this story in its historical context, we may argue that the entire exercise was designed to teach that monotheism is unlike the pagan religions that existed at the time. The God of Abraham does not believe in child sacrifice. The point is dramatically made through the retraction of the divine decree. In cultural context, passing the test of the Akedah, meant not sacrificing Isaac.

This notion is graphically depicted in midrashic literature: 

Abraham said, ‘Let me strangle him!’ God responds, ‘Do not raise a hand against the boy!’ He said, ‘Let me draw a drop of blood.’ God answers, ‘Do not cause him any damage, do not make a blemish,’ since you have proven to all that you love Me and you have not withheld your son, your beloved one from me. (Genesis Rabbah 26:7)

This rabbinic text is not intended to depict Abraham the patriarch as a madman with homicidal tendencies. Rather, an important statement being made about the total abandon and religious frenzy which accompanied pagan ecstasy rites. Judaism, in contrast, demands control and discipline even at moments of ultimate communion with the Lord. This reading of the midrash graphically illustrates the notion that not sacrificing Isaac becomes the ultimate test of Abraham. It is restraint and submission to divine will, no matter how unexpected and inexplicable, that yields religious service.

Rabbi Abraham Isaac HaCohen Kook offered an innovative twist on the command to sacrifice Isaac. He points out that Abraham emerged from a world of idolatry. He left his fathers home in Mesopotamia and rejected his pagan past. Through commanding the sacrifice of his beloved son, the Almighty desired that Abraham the monotheist harness elements from his former life and use them in the service of God. The spontaneity, passion, and enthusiasm of idolatrous rites were potentially positive traits; however, they need to be channeled through God’s true will. Hence the Akedah was in fact a transposition of the salutary elements of the world of idolatry into a monotheistic framework.

1. Soren Kierkegaard, Fear and Trembling (Princeton, 1971).

2. Genesis Rabbah an aggadic midrash on the Book of Genesis composed in the land of Israel giving a consecutive exposition of the Book of Genesis chapter by chapter, verse by verse and often word by word.

3. Rabbi Abraham Isaac HaCohen Kook (1865-1935) was the first Ashkenazi chief rabbi of modern Erez Israel. See, The Letters of Rabbi Kook , volume II. pg 43 (Jerusalem, 1985).