We are now in the days immediately following Channuka, approaching Shabbat of Parashat Va’yigash.

Our parasha deals with the uniting of forces between all the tribes – a situation where Yehuda and Yosef are at peace with one another. The parasha opens with “Va’yigash e’lav Yehuda” – “And Yehuda approached him,” (Bereshit 44:18) – while Yehuda’s intention (as the Midrash testifies) is to speak harsh words to Yosef. This then develops into Yosef’s instruction “Please approach me,” (ibid. 45:4) – an expression illustrating the peace and brotherhood that returns to Ya’akov’s family.

The Haftara of our parasha naturally deals with the union and reunification of Yehuda and Yosef too. The Haftara comes from the Book of Yechezkel (Chapter 37), after the description of the mountains of Israel that return to bear their fruits for Am Yisra’el who has returned to its land, and after the vision of the dry bones that follows this. The very end of the Haftara describes how David (or one of David’s descendants) will be king over all of Israel, as the verses state:

“And David my servant shall be king over them, and they will all have one shepherd` they will also follow my laws and observe my statutes, and do them. And they will dwell in the land that I have given to Ya’akov my servant, in which your fathers have dwelt; and they will dwell here – they, and their children, and their children’s children forever, and my servant, David, will be their prince forever. I will make a covenant of peace with them, it will be an everlasting covenant with them, which I will give them; and I will multiply them, and I will place my sanctuary in their midst forever. And my Tabernacle will be among them, and I will be their God, and they will be my nation.”

(Yechezkel 37:24-27)

Then, after the internal unity within Yisra’el, the following process takes place:

“Then the nations will know that I, God, sanctify Yisra’el, when my sanctuary will be in the midst of them forever.”

(Ibid 37:28)

In other words after the internal unity and harmony within the nation of Israel, there then is the ability to radiate outwards, hence “Then the nations will know that I, God…”

Despite the similarities we have noted between the content of Parasha and that of the Haftara, there is a major difference.

In our parasha the unity occurs immediately prior to the entry into the Diaspora. This unity has the power to maintain us as the waves of the exile and the storms of that life batter Am Yisra’el in the sea of history. In contrast, in the Haftara we find a different brand of unity, unity that forms the basis and foundations toward the grand redemption and the full revelation of God’s name in the world.

We will aim to distinguish between these two types of unity. We will term the first “Congregational Unity” – that is to say, the unity of the Diaspora; a unity wherein all the various components live in peace and harmony with one another, yet still it is not complete, (this being the unity described in the parasha.) The second type of unity is the unity of Eretz Yisra’el which appears to be of an entirely different class – this is the unity of Kingdom.

That then, in short, is the difference between the parasha and the haftara, and the distinction between the unity of the Diaspora and the unity of Eretz Yisra’el.

Now we will begin our shiur with a study of the sin of the Chashmona’im, (continuing from last week’s shiur); and we will also deal with the influence of Channuka, after just having celebrated it ourselves.

In his commentary on the verse:

“The scepter will not depart from Yehuda, nor the ruler’s staff from between his feet.”

(Bereshit 49:10)

the Ramban deals with the sin of the Chashmona’im, using this verse as the basis for understanding their difficult demise. We must recall that the p’shat (literal meaning) of the verse “The scepter will not depart from Yehuda, nor the ruler’s staff from between his feet” describes the role of Yehuda and his descendants – the House of David – in that they will be the royal family of Yisra’el. The word “she’vet” (literally “staff”) thus indicates government and monarchy, (like a scepter.)

What then was the sin of the Chashmona’im?

According to the Ramban their sin was that they, the Chashmona’im, descendants of Levi, and thus priests and Divine servants by designation, took for themselves the monarchy and reign. They thus transgressed Ya’akov’s command “The scepter will not depart from Yehuda, nor the ruler’s staff from between his feet.” And therefore, despite the fact that they were “Chasidei Elyon” (“Righteous of the Supernal”), in the words of the Ramban, they fell by the sword. This defeat was so extreme that our Sages said that whoever claims “I am a descendant of the Chashmona’im” is in fact a slave – for no single survivor remained of the Chashmona’ic dynasty.

These are the words of the Ramban:

“And this was the punishment of the Chashmona’im who ruled during the period of the Second Temple, for they were Chasidei Elyon, and were it not for them Torah and Mitzvot would have been eradicated from Yisra’el.

Despite all this they were severely punished, for four Chasidim (righteous) members of the original Chashmona’ic dynasty , who ruled consecutively – despite all their strength and successes were defeated by their enemies’ swords. And this punishment resulted in the saying of our Sages: Whoever claims that he is of the House of the Chashmon’aim – he is a slave, for all of them were annihilated as a result of this sin.”

The Ramban then notes that despite the fact that the Tz’dukkim (Sadducees) were descendants of Shim’on the Chashmona’i, (his intention possibly being Yochanan Kohen Gadol), this was not their primary sin. For the remainder of the descendants of Matityahu the Chashmona’i were not Sadducees, yet still they all perished. Thus the Ramban reiterates and emphasizes their primary sin:

“And even though among the descendants of Shim’on there was punishment due from the Sadducees, but Matityahu the Saint had nothing to do with this. Rather they were punished because they ruled and they are not descendants of Yehuda and not of the House of David, and they entirely removed the scepter and the ruler’s staff. And the retribution was meted out “measure for measure” – God set their slaves over them as rulers, and it was they that decimated the Chashmona’im.”

 

According to the Ramban then, the Chashmona’im were punished “measure for measure” – they who did not hand the monarchy over to those worthy of it, the descendants of Yehuda, were punished by their slaves (the houses of Antipater and Herod) who rose up against them and killed them. Thus the monarchy and rule passed on to those are certainly not worthy of it.

Here the Ramban mentions an additional point that further clarifies that the fact that the House of Chashmona’im were Kohanim compounds their deeds.

“And it is also possible that they sinned through their monarchy for they were Kohanim, and they were commanded: ‘Be careful to perform your priestly duties in everything pertaining to the altar and to what is behind the curtain; I make your priesthood a service of dedication,’ (Bamidbar 18:7) – they were not to rule, solely to serve in the service of God.”

In other words, not handing the sovereignty to Yehuda is a severe enough act, but the fact that those who took the monarchy for themselves were Kohanim – is akin to adding insult to injury, for they were specifically commanded to be cautious with regard their priesthood, for “they were not to rule, solely to serve in the service of God.”

That is then the sin of the Chashmona’im in the Ramban’s opinion.

One may question that Sha’ul (Saul) was King before David – the Ramban answers this point (on the previous verses) pointing out that Ya’akov’s prophesy included this detail. “The scepter will not depart from Yehuda…” – the intention of the verse is that the moment that the scepter, kingship, will reach Yehuda, it will then never depart, and is forbidden to depart from Yehuda.

This raises a very difficult question, to use the Gemara terminology – what was the “hava amina” (original thought) of the Chashmona’im? What did those “Chasidei Elyon” who prevented “the eradication of Torah from Yisra’el” believe that made then cling to the reigns of the monarchy? It makes no sense to say that they were power-mongers who simply desired to be in control of the nation – for whoever reads the fiery speeches that Matityahu and Yehuda Ha’Maccabi delivered realizes the passion of their devotion and the piousness of their motives. Why then did the Chashmona’im not set aside the monarchy and simply return to their rightful position as Kohanim?

We will leave this question unanswered for now, and will return to it later.

Let us examine the Haftara that we read on the second Shabbat of Channuka, and from this we will slowly be able to clarify the issues. We must remember that when Channuka falls over two Shabbatot, the second Shabbat will always be “Zot Channuka,” (literally “This is Channuka (dedication)”, the eighth day of Channuka named thus after the parasha that is read from the Torah.)

The Haftara we read on the first Shabbat of Channuka is the Haftara which mentions “Not by might nor by power, but by My spirit said God,” (Zecharya 4:6,) the Haftara in which the menorah of Zecharya appears. All these concepts are directly related to Channuka, the Festival of Light, the festival in which it became apparent that it is not the external might which is important, but rather the inner spirit. More so, this prophecy of Zecharya relates directly to the period of the Second Temple.

In contrast it is with difficulty that we approach the Haftara of its second Shabbat, attempting to understand the connection between Channuka and the Haftara. In this Haftara it is described how “Chirom” or “Chiram” (termed differently by the verses themselves) is responsible for the implementation of the building plans of the Temple.

The verses state:

“And Chirom made the pans, and the shovels, and the basins. And Chiram concluded all the work that he performed for King Sh’lomo, for the house of God: the two pillars, and the two bases of the crowns that were on the tops of the pillars, and the two networks, to cover the two bases of the crowns that were on the tops of the pillars, and four-hundred pomegranates for the two networks, two rows of pomegranates for each network, to cover the two bases of the crowns that were on the tops of the pillars…”

(I Melachim 7:40-42)

The verses continue describing the quantities of materials used and the measurements of the various vessels made. Quite obviously, throughout it is quite unclear what the exact connection between this Haftara and Channuka is.

There are those who wish to say that the connection lies in the continuation of the verses which describe how Chiram made the Menorot (candlesticks.)

“And the Menorot of pure gold, five on the right side, and five on the left, before the inner sanctuary, with the flowers, and the lamps, and the tongs of pure gold, and the bowls, and the snuffers, and the basins, and the spoons, and the firepans of pure gold, and the hinges of gold, both for the doors of the inner house, the most holy place, and for the doors of the outer house, namely the Temple.”

(I Melachim 7:49,50)

However this does not answer our question satisfactorily, for it is still not clear why we are required to read a Haftara with an entire framework of calculations, weights, and measurements, simply to mention one verse that describes the dimensions of the Menorot. To claim that this is the sole connection to Channuka is too difficult a claim to make.

The answer to our question then, lies rather in the reading of the Torah that we read during Channuka. As we know, the reading of the Torah of each of the seven days of Channuka describes how each Prince in turn brings: “one silver dish, the weight of which was a hundred and thirty shekels, one silver bowl…” (Bamidbar 7:13 et al.) Interestingly the Torah repeats time after time in the exact same terminology that on day X, Prince Y brought his offering, which was “one silver dish…” etc. (There is one slight deviation regarding the offering of the Prince of Yissachar where there is an additional letter, “vav,” which is elucidated to indicate how much seemingly useless repetition of the very same verses there is.)

And then on the eighth day of Channuka we read the account of the eighth prince’s offering all the way through the remaining princes’ offerings, until we read “This was the dedication offering of the altar…” (Bamidbar 7:84.) The reading is then concluded with the beginning verses of Parashat B’ha’alot’cha. Now the question is intensified ten-fold – for after the almost word for word repetition of each prince’s offering, the Torah summarizes the total of all that was brought by the princes, “there were twelve silver bowls…” (ibid.) and so on. The obvious question that must be raised is – why the need for the totaling of all that was offered? Are we unable to make the calculations ourselves? Why does the Torah need to repeat all the minutiae each offering, and then offer a summary which seems superfluous?

One might say that the Torah has other such repetitions – in the account of Rivka and Eli’ezer, our Sages already noted that “More beautiful is the lay conversation of the servants of our forefathers, than the Torah (study) of their (the forefathers’) children,” (Bereshit Rabba, 60:8,) to explain the repetition there.

In any event, in these types of parashot (like that of Eli’ezer or of Pharaoh and his dreams) there are distinctions between the various accounts. Yet here we have a word-for-word repetition.

Rather on the contrary, the parasha of the princes’ offerings teaches us that even though on a superficial level one may say that all the princes brought the identical offerings, each bringing “one gold incense bowl…” (Bamidbar 7:14,) but in God’s eyes it is entirely different! To God, that incense bowl represents one distinct issue or facet when offered by the Prince of Yehuda, just as it represents something entirely different when offered by any of the other princes.

The princes indeed bring what appears to be the same offering externally, yet the internal significance of each is entirely unique. The significance of an offering is derived from the specific character of each prince and his tribe.

Yet this is not all, the innovation is that after we understand that there is a distinction between them, we learn that despite all the differences there is still only one nation – this is the expression of one unity. This, then, is the summary that the Torah goes to great pains to calculate the totals of all that the princes brought – everything comes together in one calculation, one amount, reflecting one unity.

The account of the dedication ceremony of the altar is then the lesson of how each Prince of a tribe in Israel brings the very same offering, yet within the offering lies the inner, hidden world – unique to the prince and his tribe. This is the description of how each prince comes with his own individuality, and then at the conclusion one unity is formed. This is the lesson as to how one unified structure is created from independent components.

Then, at the conclusion of the dedication ceremony, Aharon lights the Menora, (candelabra.) This is the role that Aharon and those that follow him must fulfill – to take all the various components distributed throughout Am Yisrael and gather them together, uplifting them before God. This is the responsibility and role of the Levi’im (Levites.) They must be dispersed within the nation, they have no inheritance or land rights, their homes are the Levite cities that are dispersed throughout all the tribes – for it is their role to gather all the various forces, channeling them heavenward. This is the reason that it is simply inappropriate that the King be of the tribe of Levi, for the Levi’s role is to be together with the nation, from within the nation, and not to lead the nation.

Now we can return to the examination of the Haftara of the second Shabbat of Channuka.

As we said, the Haftara deals with the building of King Sh’lomo’s Temple, with the central character of the Haftara being Chiram. We asked – how is this Haftara connected to Channuka? It seems that the answer lies in the persona of Chiram. Who, then, is Chiram?

The verses in Melachim describe Chiram in the following manner:

“And King Sh’lomo sent and fetched Chiram from Tzor. He was a widow’s son of the tribe of Naftali, and his father was a man of Tzor, a worker in brass: and he was filled with wisdom, understanding, and cunning to perform all works in brass; and he came to King Sh’lomo and performed all his work.”

(I Melachim 7:13,14)

Let us take note of Chiram’s status, which seems rather lacking, (we will soon see that according to some commentaries this is even an understatement,) and thus his suitability for the lofty task he was being required to perform.

Chiram “was a widow’s son” who was from “the tribe of Naftali,” as we know, the Tribe of Naftali’s prince was the last to bring an offering during the dedication of the altar. In addition we are told “his father was a man of Tzor.”

“A man of Tzor” – “Ish Tzori” – this expression troubled the commentators.

The Abarbanel brings two explanations for this expression:

In his first explanation the Abarbanel asserts that Chiram’s mother was from the Tribe of Dan, while his father was from the tribe of Naftali. And his father was termed as “a man of Tzor” since he was a resident of Tzor.

These are the Abarbanel’s words:

“And it is worthwhile to note that in these verses which state that Chiram was a widow’s son from the tribe of Naftali, yet in Divrei Ha’yamim (II 2:13) it states ‘from the daughters of Dan;’ and the commentators said that she was from Dan, and her husband was from Naftali. Hoever, he resided in Tzor, and thus was termed ‘a man of Tzor,’ even though he was an Israelite, just as Oved of Gat was termed such, even though he was a Levi – for he resided in Gat, (see II Shmu’el 6:10, and I Divrei Ha’yamim 26:8.)”

The Abarbanel then adds an additional explanation, saying:

“And it may be said that he was of Tzor by birth, as the verse states, and his wife was a Jewess, and for some reason or other she married him.”

According to this – Chiram was the child of a Jewish mother and non-Jewish father.

Despite this not so complimentary family ancestry, the verse describes Chiram in the following manner: “and he was filled with wisdom, understanding, and cunning,” a description that reminds us of B’tzal’el, builder of the Tabernacle, about whom the Torah says: “O have filled with Divine spirit in wisdom,” (Sh’mot 31:3.) There too he was assisted by O’holi’av ben Achi’samach of the tribe of Dan, a tribe that is also considered as one of the lesser tribes.

The constructors of the Temple are thus Sh’lomo from the prominent tribe of Yehuda, and with him Chiram from the tribe of Naftali (or possibly even the son of a Gentile,) who certainly is below Sh’lomo’s personal and tribal status. These two then parallel B’tzal’el from the tribe of Yehuda and O’holi’av from the tribe of Dan, the builders of the Tabernacle.

It would seem that there is no greater expression of unity than the fact that the builders of ‘God’s house’ (whether the Tabernacle or the Temple) stem from the most eminent of the tribes as well as from one of the less prominent tribes. How wonderful and appropriate that a Haftara like this one, that emphasizes the place of each individual in the consolidated, unified structure, is read together with the parasha of the Princes. As we said before, the parasha of the Princes illustrates the individuality of each of the tribes, yet also that through this distinction and singularity grows a wondrous unity.

This may then be the mission of the Kohanim in particular, and of the tribe of Levi broadly speaking. The L’vi’im must be dispersed among the nation in order to bring the individuality and uniqueness of each tribe toward the general unity of the nation. And this is how we find the tragedy of the Chashmona’im occurring.

They began their fight out of the purest and most lofty motivation – yearning to bring the name of God into the world. Yet when the Chashmona’im forgot their specific role, and desired to rule as kings – even though this was also as a result of the purest motivations, in order to pursue their aim of bring God’s name into the world, and by no means a result of megalomania – since they forgot that the formation of Am Yisra’el can only be as a result of the amalgamation of all the distinct forces in the nation, with each force in its proper place; then their desire that the priesthood should usurp the powers of the royalty caused the kingship to usurp the priesthood. Towards the end of the Hasmonean era, the royalty dominated the priesthood, appointing the High Priests, whether the candidate was worthy, or in the majority of cases, even if he was not. And all this – purely for financial gain.

Let us return to the issue with which we opened, the difference between our parasha and the Haftara.

In order to understand the basis of this distinction, let us say that unity expresses itself in two manners. The first – that all those many dispersed forces be mutually accessible, in a manner that there is no internal strife or conflict between them. In other words, each force must be able to exist on its own, but that there is a social structure and framework that prevents confrontations. This is the unity of the Diaspora, the unity that appears within the community, as opposed to in the larger kingdom or state. This is an unity wherein everyone acts as one body, not as a result of complete inner unity and harmony, but rather as a result of the external dangers of destruction or the community’s deterioration. This, then, is the unity we find in our parasha. The mutual unity and appeasement of the brother’s in preparation for the Diaspora and exile.

Now, there is an entirely different type of unity, of a completely separate nature. This is the unity that we learn of from the following verses in Zecharya:

“So I fed the flock of slaughter, indeed the poorest of the flock. And I took for myself two staffs, the one I called ‘No’am’ (‘Pleasantness’), and the other I called ‘Chovlim’ (‘Destroyers’), and I fed the flock… And I took my staff, No’am, and snapped it, that I might break my covenant which I had made with all the nations… Then I snapped my second staff, Chovlim, that I might break the brotherhood between Yehuda and Yisra’el.”

(Zecharya 11:7-14)

Zecharya describes two staffs. One he says “I called ‘No’am,’ and the other I called ‘Chovlim.’ In the Gemara in Sanhedrin the Sages explain:

“Rabi Oshai’ya said: What does the verse ‘And I took for myself two staffs, the one I called ‘No’am,’ and the other I called ‘Chovlim’’ mean? ‘No’am’ – these are the Talmidei Chachamim (Sages) of the Land of Israel who make pleasant for one another through (discussions of) Halacha. ‘Chovlim’ – these are the Talmidei Chachamim of Babylon that harm (destroy) one another through Halacha.”

(Sanhedrin 24a)

The staff mentioned by the prophet is understood by our Sages to represent leadership. The one staff, No’am, hints at those sages living in Israel, while the other, Chovlim, hints at those of Babylon.

Rashi on this Gemara explains the meaning of “Chovlim” as follows:

“In heated, brazen dialogue, they question each other. And those of Eretz Yisra’el are at ease with each other, and examine (the texts) together, each correcting his fellow, and thus the (correct) teaching emerges.”

Let us examine the term “Chovlim.” This term stems from the word “chovel” – “harm.” Another expression rooting in this word is “rav chovel” – “head sailor” – in other words the captain in charge of steering his boat through the waves in order to bring his ship to safe shores. This may very well be the role of the Talmidei Chachamim in Babylon – they must navigate the ship of Am Yisrael, each Sage in his own community, in order to bring it to safe shores. The progress of the ship is accompanied by waves and various opposing forces. In order to proceed it is the responsibility of the Captain to take charge of the sailors, employing them in order to reach the safety of shore.

The entire ability to proceed is dependant on the mixture and disorder that lead to advancement. This is the type of leadership that must struggle and fight against the waves, the opposing forces, until realizing the final goal and reaching secure port. Incidentally, this is also the meaning of “chavlei leida” – “birth pains” – childbirth occurs specifically due to the opposing forces that are active as it takes place, and they allow the birth of the child.

This type of leadership is termed “Chovlim,” in other words, the ability to advance in a reality filled with conflicting and opposing forces. This is the leadership and manner of the Talmidei Chachamim of Babylon specifically, and of all the Talmidei Chachamim that are in the Diaspora in general.

In the Diaspora they do not live in an environment of Torah and sanctity, and they are compared to that captain whose responsibility it is to bring his ship to safe waters while fighting the sea’s waves. Therefore their only hope is to enclose themselves within the four cubits of Halacha, within the ship – for outside the sea and the waves rage, which in this context means assimilation is rife.

In the Diaspora there is no need to develop and focus the inner strengths to one point in order to inject the holy into all aspects of life – for there is no value to material life in a place which is not Eretz Yisra’el. There is no value to agriculture, for example, outside of Israel.

In summary then, the role of the Talmid Chacham in Babylon is to tend his flock and protect themselves from the waves that batter them from outside, all the while attempting to reach their spiritual destination as soon as possible.

In contrast, in order to be a Talmid Chacham in Eretz Yisra’el, or more accurately to be considered a Talmid Chacham of Eretz Yisra’el (not one who simply dwells there), is something on an entirely different plain of the appearance of unity. Here, the aim and purpose are completely different. The aim is to appear, indicate and experience in a manner that indicates how all of life’s various components are not detached from the holy core of existence. To illustrate how within agriculture, healthcare, the sciences and general studies the light of holiness appears. This is an organic, living unity, an unity that is essentially and fundamentally distinct from the communal unity of the Diaspora. The efforts made in attempting to reach Eretz Yisra’el will be in direct correlation to the intensity of this unity’s appearance in Eretz Yisra’el.

Echoes of this can be found in the words of our Sages in Parashat Bereshit:

“To the woman He said: ‘I will greatly increase your anguish and your pregnancy. It will be with anguish that you will give birth to children. Your passion will be to your husband, and he will dominate you.’”

(Bereshit 3:16)

Our Sages rendered the following elucidation:

“‘You will give birth’ – this is the anguish of childbirth.

‘To children’ – this is the anguish of raising children.

Rabi Eli’ezer ben Rabi Shim’on said: ‘Man would rather cultivate a legion of olives in the Galil than raise one child in Eretz Yisra’el.’”

(Bereshit Rabba 20)

The Midrash tells us that in Eretz Yisra’el, specifically where there is the possibility for all aspects of life to appear, this in itself can pose a danger. In a place like this, to “raise one child,” to raise a person to be one – a unified person who contains within him the concept of unity – this demands great effort. But this is also an advantage – for as great the risk and the difficulty, so is the potential.

We have therefore seen that Talmidei Chachamim in Babylon must shelter and protect the nature from the storms of the Diaspora, while the Talmidei Chachamim in Eretz Yisra’el’s role is to bring the nation to such remarkable achievements strength so that it will become a light unto the nations.

It is not for nought that in the verses we brought above from Zecharya we find the description of the snapping of the staff named “No’am” followed by a result that affects all the nations of the world – “that I might break my covenant which I had made with all the nations.” This is the loss of the unity of Eretz Yisra’el, the loss of pleasantness – for then the nation is incapable of shining forth for all the other nations.

Yet when the second staff, “Chovlim,” is snapped, when the inner unity that is also required in the Diaspora is broken, this results in conflicts within the nation, as the prophet says: “that I might break the brotherhood between Yehuda and Yisra’el.”

In conclusion – the days of Channuka; the parashot that we dealt with, regarding Yosef and his brothers; as well as the Haftarot that we read now, all relate to one idea – a study of unity.

Unity appears on two planes: on the first it is an internal consolidation, whose purpose is to weather storms that rage from the outside. On the second plane, we find the deep, lofty concept of unity which reveals how all forces root from one source, and how everything component of existence – even the secular – relate to, stem from, and are lead by the holy.

The sin of the Chashmona’im, despite being “Chasidei Elyon,” was rooted in the fact that it was they who fought against Greek culture in order to show that everything is one, yet they continued to hold onto the royalty – even though their intentions may have been pure.

This is not how unity is to be realized. Unity materializes when each individual knows his place and fulfills his own specific role. It is only then that the individuals become one.

Translated by Sholem Hurwitz

Copyright Keren Yishai/Rav M. Elon

The Parasha of the Akeida - Avraham's binding of Yitzchak

Rabbi Mordechai Elon

The Gemara in Rosh Hashana states:

"Rabi Yehuda said in the name of Rabi Akiva: '...Hashem said: ...say Malchiyot, Zichronot, and Shofarot before me on Rosh Hashana. Malchiyot - in order to anoint Me as king over you; Zichronot - in order that my recollection of you be positive; how? With the shofar."

Malchiyot, Zichronot, and Shofarot are not independent entities. Through the shofar Hashem is appointed king, and through the shofar Hashem is reminded of our good attributes.

What is this shofar?

The Gemara also states:

"Rav Avahu said: Why do we blow the horn of a ram? Hashem said: Blow a ram's horn in order that I recall the Akeida of Yitzchak the son of Avraham, and I shall consider it for you as if you had bound yourselves before me...

Why do they blow the shofar while seated as well as when they are standing? To confuse the Satan."

These two statements of the Sages reflect a number of issues that permeate Rosh Hashana in particular, and the High Holy Days in general. The concept of anointing God as king in a manner that God's "recollection of you be positive," and how - "through the blowing of the shofar," is a deep idea we must understand. Other points raised in Rav Avahu's statement are the 'confusing of the Satan,' a concept begging investigation, as well as how exactly we are to 'confuse' him. Through all of these we have the recollection of the Akeida on Rosh Hashana through the blowing of the shofar of a ram.

It is always worthwhile to repeatedly analyze the parasha of Akeidat Yitzchak" - "The binding of Yitzchak on an altar as a sacrifice," and this becomes increasingly important as we approach Rosh Hashana.

Through the study of the entire parasha of the Akeida we will attempt to understand all we have said thus far.

Firstly, we will start by considering the conclusion of the Akeida. On the verse "And an angel of Hashem called to him from the heavens saying: 'Avraham, Avraham,' and he answered 'Here I am'..." our sages describe a wondrous conversation conducted by Avraham with this angel of Hashem and with Hashem Himself. This one conversation provides us with an overview of the entire Akeida describing the inner turmoil occurring during this event.

The Midrash Tanchuma states:

"As he was about to slaughter (Yitzchak) - "And an angel of Hashem called to him from the heavens saying: 'Avraham, Avraham.'"

Why (call him) twice? Because he was primed to slaughter him.

"And he said: Do not lay a hand on the boy..."

Avraham said to him: 'Who are you?'

He answered: 'An angel.'

Avraham said: 'When he said to me "Take your son," Hashem said it to me Himself. Now if He requests (that I stop), He must speak to me.

Immediately: "And the angel of God called to Avraham a second time" - since Avraham refused to accept the words of the first (angel.)

At that moment Avraham said to Hashem: 'Master of the Universe, a human tests his friend as he does not know that which is in his heart, but You, Who knows all inner thoughts - you need to do this to me?'

Hashem said to him: "For now I know that you fear God."

Instantaneously Hashem opened the heavens and the thick cloud, "and He said: I have surely sworn (an oath), says Hashem."

Avraham said to Him: 'You have sworn, and I swore that I will not leave this altar until I have spoken all I must.'

God said: 'Speak.'

Avraham: 'Did you not say to me: "and count the stars, are you able to count them... thus will be you seed?"'

He said to him: 'Yes.'

Avraham: 'From who (will I have this seed)?'

God: 'From Yitzchak.'

Avraham said to Him: 'Just as I have inner thoughts I wish to tell You, yesterday you told me 'through Yitzchak your seed will continue,' now You tell me 'offer him as an O'lah sacrifice;' I suppressed my own will (and thoughts) and didn't question You, so too when the children of Yitzchak sin and troubles befall them - remember this in their favor.'"

This is an astounding Midrash. Avraham's conversation is depicted differently from anything we recognize. Avraham has a serious argument with God. He refuses to speak to the angel ("Who are you?... When he said to me "Take your son," Hashem said it to me Himself.") then Hashem tears the heavens and the clouds and swears an oath "I have surely sworn," and the Akeida develops into a trading of oaths between Hashem and the nation of Israel.

Also, it is very interesting to note the conclusion of the Akeida,

"Now I know that you fear Hashem, as you did not hold back your son, your only one, from me."

The Sforno's commentary on this verse is quite astounding. He explains that the speaker in the verse is not Hashem but rather the angel. The angel says to Avraham "Now I know that you fear God" - more than I do (the angel.) In other words, your fear of Hashem surpasses even the level of my angelic fear of Him.

Let us examine the matter step by step.

Already on the very first verse of the Akeida, "And it was after these events and God tested Avraham," that the Sages ask after what "events" is the Torah referring to?

In 'Olat Re'iya" Rav A.I. Kook makes a comment that sharpens the power of the status of the Akeida. Rav Kook writes that there are moments in a person's life when all his life until that point was simply an introduction for that point. These moments are in a manner of speaking the essence of his life.

All of Avraham's life was an introduction to that grand point in time when Hashem would test him with the Akeida.

Avraham's test opens with the God calling to Avraham: "And He said 'Avraham,' and he answered 'Here I am.'" It will become apparent that Avraham's answer, that one word "hineni," (here I am), contains within it the intensity of the test of the Akeida.

God's calling to Avraham is in order to relay the Divine command:

"Take your son, your only son, the one you love, Yitzchak..."

Avraham doesn't question nor does he even respond; he doesn't initiate a discussion despite the fact (as we saw in the Midrash above) that he had more than ample claims he could have made to God. Avraham is silent, and accepts the divine command.

In his commentary, the Netziv points out the essence of the Akeida,. He writes that here Avraham's test, unlike other times, was how he would react to God's order. Would he accept it with love, despite the contradictions rising from it, or would he begin a dialogue and open negotiations with Hashem. The difference between Avraham's reaction to the Akeida and his reaction to previous ordeals is blatantly obvious. For example, the episode of the destruction of S'dom - where we see Avraham adamantly negotiating in order to prevent the destruction of S'dom and Amorra. Yet here he is quiet! Here Avraham understands that he must remain silent, and obediently and lovingly acquiesce; all the while repressing his internal rational and emotional strife. Avraham understands that there must be an Akeida, he knows and understands that in the covenenat between God and him there will be components that are above one's rationale and emotions. Avraham's deafening silence indicates this acceptance and submission.

God commands Avraham:

"And you shall offer him as an olah offering to Me, on one of the mountains that I shall instruct you."

Just as with all the laws of the olah offering, the olah is a sacrifice that is entirely consumed for Hashem, and nothing remains of it. The olah includes the aspect of "in your goodwill you shall sacrifice," and so here Yitzchak must be offered by Avraham as an olah. What is required is not solely human sacrifice, but so much more is demanded of Avraham: he must harness his own free will, showing that everything he possesses is from Hashem - and it is this that must lead him to sacrifice Yitzchak in his "goodwill." He does offer not Yitzchak as one who is forced to do so, but rather through his own free will, calmly, despite the fact that he is able to respond and argue. Avraham maintains his silence, and acts.

Avraham rises early in the morning of the day following this difficult commandment, "And Avraham rose early in the morning." The verse alludes to the fact that Avraham slept during the night. Avraham's sleeping during the night prior to his setting out for the Akeida shows the great calm and inner acceptance that he possessed following God's command, for if it weren't for these he certainly would have been unable to sleep. Through his success in sleeping Avraham shows how his own will had become the will of God, he is completely at peace with God's decree, and it is now that the Satan interferes. The Satan appears to Avraham and to Yitzchak individually, and to each in a different manner.

The Midrash tells us that the Satan appears to Avraham:

"Old man, I wasn't present when God told you 'take your son'... and an old man like you destroys everything after one hundred years!"

In other words the Satan is saying to Avraham: "Nothing will remain of you!"

This is the same argument that Avraham will use when he contends with God. Yet now these arguments are purely logical and rational - through which the Satan attempts to prevent the will of Avraham from uniting with the will of God. This arguments are arguments of reason, but Avraham is at a point which is above logic and reason.

The questions are questions of logic, and their answers are answers of Mesirut Nefesh (surrendering oneself for Hashem.)

Then the Satan approaches Yitzchak, appearing as a young man, and asks him where he is headed. Yitzchak answers that he is going to study Torah. The Satan responds "In your life or in your death?" Yitzchak asks: "Who studies Torah in death?" To which the Satan responds: "You pathetic boy son of a pathetic mother, how many fasts did your mother fast (praying for your birth) and this old man is going to slaughter you!"

Again the Satan asks questions of reason. "Who says that Hashem told him (Avraham) to bind (and slaughter) you?" Yet Yitzchak responds "Despite all this I will not transgress the will of my Creator nor the will of my father."

The willpower of Avraham and Yitzchak continues to ascend and become elevated, becoming more and more the "olah." Even the wood used in the Akeida are called "the wood of an olah."

And then: "And he saw the place from afar."

Avraham identifies the place despite the fact that God's command had been general "on one of the mountains that I shall instruct you."

Avraham knows that this is "the place." Avraham's identifying the place indicates how much his will had become the divine will, and had in fact become one. Man's will uniting with God's will reoccurs at the Giving of the Torah on Har Sinai when all of Israel reach the level of "and all the nation saw the sounds," that our Sages interpreted "they saw that which is heard." There was no need to hear, there was no need for external communicatory mediums, there was an inner seeing.

Avraham says to his lads: "You sit here with the donkey." He does not degrade the lads, but rather he recognizes their spiritual level. The Midrash comments: "Avraham said to Yitzchak: 'Child, what do you see?' he said to him: 'A mountain and a cloud connected to it.'"

Then Avraham asks his lads the same question, yet they answer that they see sand. Avraham says he who is on this low level is worthy of remaining with the donkey, while we are on a level surpassing reason and logic.

"And I and the boy will go until there and will bow down, and we will return to you."

The expression "ko" - "there" reminds us of the previous usage of the word:

"Look please to the heavens and count the stars... like this - "ko" - will be your seed."

Again an expression of the contradiction held within the test of the Akeida.

"And Avraham took the wood of the olah... and the two walked together."

"Together" - both father and son clashed with the Satan, who appeared differently to both, and both rejected the Satan. These are two who dealt with reality, and also both see a cloud joined to the mountain. One goes in order to slaughter, and one to be slaughtered, yet both walk together, to fulfill God's will with a complete heart.

"And Yitzchak said to Avraham his father, and he said: 'My father,' and he said: 'Here I am my son.' And he said: 'Here is the fire and the wood, where is the lamb for the olah?' And Avraham said: 'God will indicate the lamb for the olah my son...'"

This conversation is the only conversation between Avraham and Yitzchak that the Torah reveals to us. Therefore we must examine it very carefully.

The opening of the dialogue is very interesting: "And Yitzchak said to Avraham his father." It seems that this section of the verse is superfluous, for it is apparent that Yitzchak turns to his father, for there is no one present but them. And even should we find an explanation for this aspect of the verse, the emphasis appearing in the continuation of verse: "Avraham his father" seems out of place - is Avraham not Yitzchak's father?

Yitzchak sees two personas in Avraham: the persona of Avraham, the grand believer, the first to ask that great question that had remained unuttered - "Where are you?" After 2000 years that this question remained unanswered, since it was first asked of Adam, Avraham answered "Hineni" - "Here I am."

Yitzchak also sees the father figure in Avraham. And this is where the question appears: "Father?" and he answers: "Here I am, son." Yitzchak asks Avraham, the great believer, while both know who is the lamb to be slaughter, how this event unfolds together with Avraham as his father, not just Avraham the believer, but Avraham his father!

And to this Avraham answers: "Hineni". "Hineni" - I answered to Hashem, and so too I am the same "Hineni" to you my son. Both of us desire to serve Hashem, and Hashem will show us the lamb for the olah.

This is the greatest conversation between father and sons in Israel - a dialogue that repeats itself over and over throughout the generations. And now, after this conversation it is possible to again state "And the two walked together." Yet this "together" is with more power than before.

It is with this that the sole conversation between Avraham and Yitzchak concludes, and from now begins the conversation between us and our children through history. "My father... my son..." and in the middle "Hashem will indicate the lamb."

"And they came to the place that God had said to him"

Avraham and Yitzchak continue on to that place, that is only seen by the prophetic eye.

"And he built ("Va'yi'ven") an altar there" - this is the terminology of introspection. Avraham is commanded to offer an olah, but not only is it the olah that is offered up, 'elevated' to God, also the altar, its surroundings, whatever comes into contact with it is spiritually elevated.

At this point Avraham binds Yitzchak on the altar, an action that he was not commanded to perform. Why, then, does he do this?

The Midrash relates the dialogue between father and son at that moment:

"Yitzchak said to Avraham his father: 'Father, I know that the soul is presumptuous and that you must offer an olah. Maybe the soul will see the blade and will shudder - causing the blade to move from its place, rendering a defect in the sacrifice. Please bind me to the altar."

Yitzchak reveals another level in willpower and closeness to God. With all his being he requests: "Father, please bind me, I must have a framework everything must be performed according to the letter of the law, according to the Shulchan Aruch."

This teaches a most important lesson: even the greatest willpower and desire, even the purest emotions must have a framework that will define the true will of God. The smallest deviation no longer renders it God's will, but possibly a religious ecstasy - but no longer the will of God, the sacrifice becoming "pigul" (a sacrifice deemed unfit by improper ritual), punishable by excision.

In the Akeida one's grand will was "bound" and anchored in laws and rules that distinguish between the Divine will and man's will. This is another dimension to the great test that Avraham and Yitzchak succeeded in.

The angel calls to Avraham: "And he said: 'Avraham, Avraham,' and he said 'Hineni.'" In the Torah there is a dividing ta'am (t'amim - the notes by which the Torah is read.) separating between both "Avraham's." The angel cannot understand how Avraham is able to unite between the "Avraham" that fulfills God's will and the "Avraham" who loves his son. Yet to both these Avraham answers "Hineni" - "Here I am."

"And he said:"Do not send your hand to the lad... for now I know that you fear God."

The Netziv comments on this verse: "I always knew that you fear God."

Avraham's stature as depicted by the Midrash rises before us as that of a man who is able to conquer his own will, defeats the Satan - for they are one: "He is the Satan, he is the Angel of Death, he is the evil inclination." It is this Satan that we desire to confuse on Rosh Hashana. The Satan is that presence that a person feels of himself, whether intellectually, whether emotionally, that 'existential being' that a person considers himself. Avraham concurs his own inclinations, his intellect and his emotion and succeeds to fuse entirely with the Divine Will. Through this complete fusion, from the point of equaling the will of the Almighty, Avraham requests that God be so fused with his children. As the midrash states:

"Just as I have inner thoughts I wish to tell You... I suppressed my own will (and thoughts) and didn't question You, so too when the children of Yitzchak sin and troubles befall them - remember this in their favor."

"And he said: 'Do not send you hand to lad, and do not do a thing to him.'"

Regarding the repeated emphasis the Midrash notes that Avraham wanted to wound Yitzchak at the very least. And therefore the angel said : "and do not do a thing to him." This is very surprising and certainly begs understanding - why did Avraham so fervently want to cause at least some injury to Yitzchak?

Based on what we have said thus far, it is understandable. Avraham had reached a superior level of will that he wished to materialize that level of will I order that it would stand the future generations in good stead. He searches for any action that will become the point of reference for all of history as the point of the uniting of man's will with God's will.

And then:

"And Avraham raised his eyes and saw, and behold a ram was caught by its horns in the bushes."

This was the answer to the realism of the question: "Here is the fire and the wood, where is the lamb for the olah?" Here is the ram, that had always been there. (As our Sages teach, from the six days of creation the ram had been there waiting for this event.) Avraham, he who had risen upwards to the world of Divine Will, whose own will mirrored that of God, he was able to ask the angel "Who are you?" And Avraham was the person about whom the angel would testify "Now I know that you fear God..." (As the Sforno explained above.) As if to say - "You, Avraham, are greater than us, the angels. We are emissaries, yet we are exist by ourselves; you are united and fused with the Divine will."

A person like Avraham rises above the concept of "life," as he is joined with the source of all life.

The shofar, through which we anoint God as King, signifies the complexities of reality, signified by the ram "caught by its horns in the bushes."

We blow "a simple blast before it, and a simple blast after it," but in the middle there is disintegration - the simple blast disintegrates. We aren't even able to define the nature of this disintegration, is it the groaning and moaning of a man, or the hysterical wailing of a woman. Yet what is certain is that after this disintegration the "simple blast after it" appears.

At the beginning of the Akeida Avraham says to Yitzchak, "God will show the lamb for the olah." The word "yi'r'eh" ("will show") is in fact punctuated to mean "will see." Avraham says: 'I do not know where God's attribute of mercy is hiding here, I only see God's attribute of justice, yet if Hashem desires - we shall obey." Yet at the close of the Akeida Avraham says "Hashem yei'ra'eh" - "God will appear." Hashem, He that was, is, and will be is He that conducts reality in a manner beyond our understanding - but in a manner that is solely positive.

It is very interesting to see the parasha that follows after the Akeida . On Rosh Hashana not only do we read the Akeida, but this parasha as well.

"...and it was told to Avraham saying: Behold were born to Milka too, sons for Nachor your brother; Utz his firstborn... and his concubine R'uma, and she too gave birth to Tevach, to Ga'cham, to Ta'chash, and to Ma'achah."

At first glance it seems that this is a great decline from the great heights of the Akeida. However perhaps this parasha offers the reason to continue normal day-to-day life after the climax of the Akeida, and after the fusing of man's will with the Divine Will.

The first Lubavitch Rebbe makes a beautiful comment onthe closing words "and to Ma'acha." He states that "Ma'acha" is in fact an acronym for "Melech al kol ha'olam ku'lo bich'vodecha" - "King over the entire world in your splendor." This is the conclusion of the Akeida - anointing Hashem as King over all of creation.

The blasts of the shofar, the shofar signifying the ram of our forefather Yitzchak, we will here both while standing and sitting. We will confuse the Satan with these blasts by remembering that whether we stand upright, head raised, uplifted in spirit or whether we sit in lowly disgrace or pain, there is always the ram hidden in the bushes held by its horns, waiting for us since the six days of creation.