Posted on 11/09/23
We are all still quite immersed in the confusions of emotions that our nation has been living through since the tragic events of Simchas Torah.
We view videos of overwhelming grief and pain of families — burying their dead; worrying over the fate of their kin who are in captivity; fretting over the welfare of their children, brothers, and sisters, who are serving on the frontlines; being displaced from their homes indefinitely.
At the same time, we have watched soldiers — joyously greeting the Shabbos; blissfully donning Tefillin and Tzitzit, many for the first time; celebrating weddings near the battlefront, dressed in army fatigues, while bearing their weapons; dancing and singing with the amazing volunteers who are providing them ceaselessly, with delicious food, equipment, and personal items.
Are we broken or are we happy? Are we sane or have we gone mad?
We have been taught from a very young age that Sarah's death is reported directly after the Akeidah to teach us that she died while being informed of what had just taken place. From the command to Avraham to slaughter Yitzchok, proceeding through the details, and finally getting up to the moment where Avraham wields the knife and is about to slice through his beloved child's neck, Sarah listens with bated breath. Suddenly, she becomes overwhelmed with anxiety over this graphic description of her son's slaughter, fearing he is no longer alive. Finally, her heart can no longer tolerate the tension, giving out before her ever having a chance to hear the final punchline — that an angel intervened and told Avraham to refrain. Yitzchok is alive! Sarah seemingly went to her death never knowing the outcome.
The Midrash, though, adds a very significant detail. It was Yitzchok who upon returning home after the episode, of whom his mother inquires as to where he had been. He reports how his father took him on a journey to a mountain… going on to describe all the details, through and including his obvious survival, as he is evidently standing before her telling the tale. She asks Yitzchok, "Do you mean that if not for the angel's intercession you would have been slaughtered?" He responds in the affirmative. At that point she cries out several times, which the Midrash says are commemorated in the sounds of the Shofar.
The great 14th century scholar, Rav David Abudarham, in his seminal work on Tefillah, quotes a Midrash that adds another fascinating aspect in this story. Sarah didn't simply cry. She first laughed joyously.
ותצחק ותיבב ותילל — And she laughed, and she cried, and she wailed
Why would Sarah have laughed?
The Holy Klausenberger Rebbe explains that when Sarah first heard that Yitzchok was designated to be slaughtered, she realized that since there had been a promise that Yitzchok would bear the future nation of Israel, his death could only have been intended to accomplish the complete tikkun — repair for the sin of Adam, heralding a world of techiyas hameisim — revival of the dead, and a return to the idyllic life that existed prior to that sin. The thought and notion of that hope brought supreme joy to her heart despite the pain her beloved would have to experience, knowing it was the key to Geulah.
Rashi in describing the moment prior to when Sarah became exasperated, refers to it as when she heard that כמעט שלא נשחט — that he was almost not slaughtered.
She was terribly disappointed that he never actually went through with it, for now she realized her dream of the ultimate repair for the first sin hadn't yet transpired. She realized that Yitzchok's progeny would now have to endure a long history of terrible suffering before that glorious future could come to fruition. That anguish was too much to bear, and she departed this world with cries that would be echoed throughout history on every Rosh Hashana, with the cries of the Shofar, and during every tortuous challenge they would face, with tearful eyes crying out for salvation, until redemption would come.
So, first she rejoiced, but then she wept and wailed. Sarah's soul could no longer contain the unfathomable pain she foresaw for all future generations, up to and certainly including this last Simchas Torah.
During the Six-Day War, fifty-six years ago, there was a feeling that the Mashiach was right around the corner. The joy we sensed was indescribable. But there is a stark contrast from the events then and today. No doubt we feel even more so that something is transforming on a cosmic level. But the joy we see today being expressed is before to the victory over our enemies. In '67 we did not observe an explosion of joy prior to the armies entering the war front. It was only after the miracles began to be revealed that it sparked such euphoria.
The sense of mission we are privy to — the enthusiasm to face the enemy so bravely; the faith expressed in the enthusiastic declaration of Shma Yisrael at the edge of battle; is reminiscent of the joy we are taught Avraham and Yitzchok sensed as they walked together to the Akeidah.
Perhaps this is an echo of that joyous laugh Sarah emitted when she sensed that her son was about to bring forth the final redemption, despite the pain he would have to endure.
Those who have fallen in this war, have thrown themselves happily to the task, knowing it was for the greater benefit of the Jewish people, the chosen nation of our Father in Heaven.
This is an Akeidah, Sarah would certainly rejoice over.
May we each be inspired in kind to take on the challenges we each face with that same sense of duty, excitement, and privilege, so that we too may begin to hear the joyous music that awaits just around the corner, together with the coming of Mashiach speedily in our days!
באהבה,
צבי יהודה טייכמאן