The question on my mind
this year as I thought about this test of Abraham and Isaac was, “What is
required of us?” What is it that
we have to do in life to be decent human beings who are strong, caring,
steadfast and committed to our community and to our relationships?
What is required of
us is to be present. I first learned about the Biblical Hebrew word for
presence, "Hineini," from my first Hebrew teacher, Mrs. Esther
Kleiman. She would call the
roll in class and we would use this ancient response to indicate that we were sitting
in the classroom, hopefully present in body, mind and spirit. The next year, the Cantor's wife,
a creative educator who introduced us to a more modern Hebrew, taught us
instead to say "po,"
which means "here." So, at this moment, if you asked me where
I am, and I said "po," it would mean, "I am on the bimah,
standing beside the Torah - where else should I, the rabbi, be on Rosh Hashanah
morning when I am ready to give my d'var Torah?" However, if I
said, instead, "Hineini," it would mean, "I am on the bimah,
joining you in prayer and celebration, standing beside the Torah in order to
share with you lessons that we can take into this new year of 5775."
The
word “Hineini” has many levels of significance, especially whenever it appears
in a Biblical story. We know the first part of the word as
"Hinei," here - behold, as in the familiar phrase from Psalms,
"Hinei mah tov u-mah naim," Behold - how good and how pleasant it
is." The suffix adds the part of the word that means
"I" , "Ani." "Hineini" expresses an
awareness, an ability to see a situation with open eyes, and to recognize that
I - ani- may have a responsibility or task that requires my personal attention,
concern and commitment. I never thought that my simple response in Hebrew
class could encompass so much meaning, but Mrs. Kleiman was, I believe, trying
to teach us that the study of our heritage is at its best when it comes from
deep within our soul – from that place of "Hineini," and not just
"po."
My annual struggle with interpreting the Akedah - the story of the binding of
Isaac - must necessarily be an exercise in "Hineini" and not
"po." It is unwise to deal only on the surface with this tale
of a father and son and their God who, apparently, commands the father to
sacrifice his son to demonstrate unwavering faith. In his book
HINEINI IN OUR LIVES, Rabbi Norman Cohen collected statements from rabbis and
scholars who told of "hineini moments” from their lives which they
related to Abraham’s dilemma as he journeyed with his son Isaac to an uncertain
fate. Some of the contributors to
Rabbi Cohen’s book offered stories from their personal experiences that they
viewed as actual tests of faith, real examples of
"Hineini." I would agree with the interpretations in that
volume that urge us to explore the use of the statement "Hineini" in
the Akedah in order to place the entire story in its proper context.
There is something pivotal about each instance in which Biblical characters say
"hineini" to God or to one another. That is especially true every
time this word appears in Genesis chapter 22. In each case, Abraham was required to act in
consonance with what he believed, even if the request seemed to be pushing him
to the limits of his faith.
The first "Hineini" in the
Akedah story was spoken by Abraham as he responded to God's double call of his
name, commanding him to sacrifice his beloved son Isaac. On one level, we are at least
surprised, if not shocked, to hear what Abraham was supposed to do to prove his
dedication to God. We wonder how God could apparently ask for a human
sacrifice from a person who had shown only focus and commitment to God's
direction until that point. This divine demand on Abraham can signify for
us situations that come to us in our lives, often without warning. This particular "hineini"
moment is relevant to each of us when unforeseen circumstances or events put us
in an unexpected place. At such a
moment, we have to drop everything, put our lives on hold, and attend to the
tragedy or challenge before us. This requires all of our energy at a cost
of personal sacrifice and, perhaps, the unfortunate, but, hopefully,
temporary loss of connection with those who depend on us the most.
There are times when we feel that we must attend to the needs of a particular
family member or friend at the exclusion of others who would benefit from our
presence. There are days when work
may pull us away from home or friendship or personal pursuits. We try to
address and fulfill all of our responsibilities, but sometimes we cannot even
say "po," much less "hineini." There is no
choice in some instances but to make a choice, however difficult, if only for a
brief time, so that we can later respond with an eventual and heartfelt
"hineini" to everyone around us. In the case of the Torah
reading, Abraham felt the pull that he perceived from God, on one hand, and his
family on the other. He chose God and embarked with his son and his
servants on a three-day journey to Mount Moriyah.
The
second time Abraham said “hineini” in this portion was in response to Isaac's
call and question,
"Father?" Abraham replied, "Hineini, v'nee - here I
am, my son." Isaac asked, "Here is the firestone and the knife,
but where is the ram for the burnt offering?" That
exchange was a potential moment of truth between parent and child that tested Abraham's
faith, and, even more, the trust between Abraham and Isaac. What
could Abraham say? He didn’t say, "God has commanded me to sacrifice
you, Isaac, and you know that God is most important in my life, and I have to
do what God tells me to do – you have to come along with me."
Nor did he say, "I am going along with God's command to sacrifice you,
even though I know that I have been promised many descendants through
you. This is tearing me apart, and I hope that I don't have to go through
with this. " Nor did he say nothing. Abraham said,
"God will provide a ram for the burnt offering, my son."
There was, in Abraham's response, a note of slight resignation, but also a hint
of optimism that he and Isaac would somehow get through this trial.
Abraham had to say something to reassure his son so that they could continue on
the path to the mountain. The text at that point declared,
"VAYAYLCHU SH'NAYHEM YACHDAV - THE TWO OF THEM WALKED
TOGETHER." Neither of them knew exactly what was going to happen,
but they had each other and trusted each other as they moved along a road
towards an uncertain end.
As I consider this
conversation between Abraham and Isaac, I think of adults who have been
required to leave their parents, spouses and children in order to engage in
work, military service or other necessary personal commitments. I think of
those individuals dealing with the death of a loved one who are attempting to
create a new perspective on life that offers a measure of comfort to other family
members. I think of individuals
who must overcome challenges to their physical, emotional or mental well-being
in the presence of their closest relatives and friends, assuring them that
their support is valuable even if they sometimes are unable to show
appreciation for the help they provide.
To move forward while facing a difficult situation, we are called upon
to say "HINEINI", to be there for each other and to walk together,
like Abraham and Isaac, with one mind and one heart.
Abraham said “hineini”
a third time in Genesis Chapter 22 as he responded to the call of the angel
that directed him to refrain from sacrificing Isaac. He heard the urgent command, “Do not set your
hand upon the boy, and don’t do anything to him, for it is now known without a
doubt that you revere God, since you have not withheld your only son.” We are supposed to feel relieved
as the dramatic tension is resolved with the angel’s timely arrival, Isaac’s
survival, and Abraham’s successful completion of this trial of faith. It may have seemed that everything was
back to normal. Yes, Abraham would have many descendants through Isaac – God’s
promise of progeny was totally intact. Yet, Abraham and Isaac changed during this traumatic
experience. We have no sense
that father and son closely interacted with each other ever again. Some commentators imagined that
tears from the angel that came to stop the test touched Isaac’s eyes, causing
his sight to be dim at that moment and increasingly clouded as he grew
older. For us, any test and
any challenge to our well-being or to our notions about our own reality will
necessarily alter our perspectives on life. Hineini, at this point in the Torah reading,
meant, for Abraham, “I am ready to accept the role of being a loving parent
with realistic expectations, a dedicated believer in higher truths, and an
example for generations to come of what it means to face, with faith, life’s
unexpected trials and tests.”
When we encounter
difficult situations, we are like Abraham, and our Hineini is at least similar
to his, if not the same. We
don’t expect everything to be as it was before. We do change when we deal with illness, the death of a
relative or friend, loss or change of employment, surprising shifts in our
closest relationships, or events beyond our control. What is most important in any case is to hold on, to
stand up, and to hear the angel calling our name, to which our response of “hineini”
will signal that we are present in the moment and ready to take the next step
on our journey, incorporating our new knowledge and experience into our outlook
and character as we try to make ourselves whole again.
At the
foundation of who we are, whatever tests we face, are values embodied in texts
and sayings from our tradition.
In the last several weeks, I asked our Religious School teachers,
Religious School committee members, students and congregants to express what
they believe are values that can enable us to say, with confidence, HINEINI -
here I am. Here are some of
our own pearls of wisdom that can support us as we face the tests that life
inevitably places before us:
Come and learn;
act kindly.
Bring your best
self; be a friend.
Every day is a
new start.
Think before
you speak and listen intently to what others have to say.
We should speak
less so that we can listen more and hear the voices calling for us to be
present.
Know before
whom you are speaking and with whom you are living in community - and remember
that you are part of that community.
When everyone
around you is behaving badly, be a mensch, a decent person.
Think positive
thoughts and apologize if you hurt someone's feelings.
Use quiet
voices and kind words.
Find a friend
to help guide you through life.
Those guides are all around us to help
us to know when and how to say HINEINI. Sometimes, after knowing well that THEY have been a
beacon for US, we may be required to return the favor. In one congregation, there was a girl
named Emma who was diligently studying several years ago to become Bat Mitzvah.
She had started on that path very late because she hadn’t enrolled in Religious
School until she was in 7th grade. Still, she was making great progress and on track as a quick study
and a highly motivated student. Emma had many strengths, intellectual, athletic
and a deep concern for the welfare of her community and the world. Her peers
thought of her as an unassuming leader-by-example and a good friend. About two months before her
Bat Mitzvah date, Emma was hit by a car while skateboarding near her home. She spent several months recovering at
a major hospital over an hour away from where she lived, and then at a facility
closer to home. Once she had
made progress on her road to recovery, she was able to resume her studies at
school and to continue her participation in Lacrosse and soccer. The Bat Mitzvah service didn't happen,
but Emma's return to her life was like a rebirth, an unplanned coming-of-age
milestone in which she had successfully, and with flying colors, faced a
difficult challenge. Two
weeks ago, Emma was driving her car with a friend in the passenger seat. She
turned onto a major road from a side street and her car was struck by another
vehicle. The passenger survived,
but Emma died. The news spread
throughout the community. The principal of her high school commented, “Emma really was a young woman with great potential who
was such a good role model for her classmates in terms of the positive attitude
that she put forth, her kindness, and her constant striving to achieve.” Emma’s
father commented that she had been born, and reborn, and now, he hoped that she
would be reborn again in spirit as she endures in the memories of her friends
and loved ones. Emma’s peers, out-of-town relatives and school district staff
and faculty overwhelmingly responded to the call of HINEINI to offer crucial
support. The family called the
only rabbi they really knew, Emma’s Bat Mitzvah tutor, to take part in the
funeral. I was the rabbi who was
Emma’s Bat Mitzvah tutor, and while I couldn’t attend, I spoke to Emma’s dad at
length and sent my remembrance that was shared at her funeral. What lasts from the life of such a
person – in fact, of any loved one who dies - is the legacy that remains, and the realization that it is
our response of HINEINI at a moment of need that can keep
fresh and alive the memory of a treasured soul.
In a moment, we will listen again to the tale of Abraham and Isaac,
which is, more than we realize, as challenging as some of our own experiences
in life. The shofar will call us to remembrance of our actions, to forgiveness
of ourselves and others and to the realization of our capacity to change for
the better and to step forward to act at a moment's notice, not only to say “po,”
that we are present in this space, but also “hineini,” that we are here in the
fullest sense. May this be a year
in which we respond to life’s challenges and trials from the depths of our
being with new resolve and wisdom, performing the tasks required of us by being
prepared to bring our best self to every moment of our lives. At those times, may we be totally
present, with a confident and heartfelt “hineini.” So may it be – and let us say amen.
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