Three days had passed since Abraham left his house, his legs moving as if walking by themselves, towards the place where he was supposed to sacrifice his son. His body acted of its own accord, propelled by itself, re¬pulsing the impediments that attempted to wash it away like waves trying to cover the shore.
Abraham was stopped on the spot, a man restrained by a force greater than himself. On the top of the mountain that towered in front of him, a pillar of cloud appeared before his eyes, as in his heart a burning fire roared, rising to the highest heaven. His eyes were fixed on the miraculous spectacle, his mouth open in aston¬ishment. For a few moments he stood staring; then Abraham forced himself to look at his companions. He saw that Isaac was mesmer¬ized, hypnotized by the sight atop the mountain.
“Do you see…?” He whispered to his son. Isaac nodded without taking his eyes off the wonder. Abraham glanced at Eliezer and Ish¬mael, surveying him and his son in bewilderment. “Do you see any¬thing at the top of the mountain?” He asked, knowing the answer.
“You mean the trees there?” Ishmael asked, unclear why his father was so astonished.
“It doesn’t matter,” Abraham sighed deeply. “Abide you here with the ass,” he ordered Ishmael and Eliezer.
He thought to himself, “asinine people! The beast cannot per¬ceive anything on the mountaintop, and neither can you!”
“Come, Isaac!” He said to his son, breaking his trance. Isaac went over to his father, who loaded him up with the firewood they had brought.
“I and the lad will go yonder; and we will worship, and come back to you,” he murmured over his shoulder at the two men, who were watching their master and his son leave them and walk toward the mountain.
The father and son began to climb up the mountain, leaving their companions in the distance.
Abraham realized that his body kept moving unimpeded, and the thoughts of what lay ahead did not paralyze him; this filled him with confidence that he was doing the right thing.
Isaac, on the other hand, was quite perturbed by thoughts of the young man whom he’d happened across on the trail. With Eli ezer and Ishmael present, he had not wanted to broach the topic of what they were meant to sacrifice, but now the time had come.
“Father,” he began, causing Abraham to stop and look at his son, expecting a question that had been on the tip of the youth’s tongue for several days. “Behold the fire and the wood…” He paused, for seconds that seemed to him like an eternity. He wanted to ask, but he feared that his question was unwanted. Finally, he concluded, “… But where is the lamb for an offering?”
Abraham breathed deeply, and a sigh emitted from his mouth. Time seemed to stand still as a mix of emotions trying to overcome each other stirred within the hearts of the father and son who stood facing each other. What prevailed, was a sense that all reality had been silenced, awaiting the father’s answer. “God will provide Him¬self the lamb if there is to be one.” The words tumbled out, becoming tangible, acquiring form and shape as they crashed down on Isaac. Abraham spoke like a man accepting a sentence which had to be carried out. “And if there is no lamb, then you are for a burnt-offer¬ing, my son.” An errant tear tried to break past the battlements of the father’s eyes, torn as he was between his two great loves: for his son and for his father in heaven.
Seconds that felt like eternity passed within Isaac, his eyes closed, his heart striving to contain his father’s statement. A deep breath helped him reconcile the necessity to do the last task assigned to him in his life. A slight smile rose on Isaac’s lips and slowly it spread all over his face, “we have an important task to do, Father.”
Abraham looked at his son, who suddenly seemed full of joy and gladness, “yes, we must continue on the path.”
Abraham and Isaac continued to climb up the mountain, with smiles of happiness on their faces, indicating that they were satisfied with doing the duty placed on their shoulders.
Atop the mountain, the ancient altar appeared before the two of them. A large pile of stones placed there in times of yore to serve as a place for sacrifices. Sixty-two years had passed since Abraham had been there. The decades had taken their toll on the half-destroyed altar. Abraham began to rebuild the altar with a heart beating joy¬fully, while Isaac sat on the side at his father’s command, lest he be wounded, God forbid; as being maimed would disqualify him as a sacrifice. The hands worked without inhibition, preparing the place where the father would sacrifice his son. The firewood, which they had carried with them from home, was arranged precisely and carefully.
Abraham and Isaac look at the altar with satisfaction, rejoicing in its configuration, perfect for sacrifice. Isaac began to climb carefully on the altar, realizing that this was the deed that had to be done. “Father, please bind my hands and feet,” he asked calmly, “I cannot help you with this, unfortunately. Please bind me tightly, as fear may overcome me when I see the knife approach. I may inadvertently jerk, maiming myself and invalidating the slaughter.”
Abraham went to work binding his son on the altar. The ropes were stretched taut, tying Isaac’s hands and legs behind him. Shouts and screams were audible inside the father’s head, trying to dissuade him from doing the deed which no sensible person would do. The sound of weeping and pleading from obscure and unseen sourc¬es, begging the Master of the Universe to have compassion on the bound boy. There was a feeling that the whole celestial entourage was yelling and pleading for the cruel act not to be done.
The father looked at his bound son, trying to transcend his mercy and do his duty, without letting his feelings interfere with the word of the Creator.
“Father,” Isaac whispered to his father, who was gripped by these passing thoughts. Abraham momentarily became disconnected from the spot, looking at his son, hoping he would not ask him to stop.
“Please, after you offer your sacrifice, take some ashes for my mother, so she can have a souvenir of me,” the son’s lips murmured as he lay on the altar.
Abraham went to take the knife in his hand. He tried to reach out, but his arm refused. The brain commanded the hand to take the knife with which the sacrifice was to be slaughtered, but it sensed the body’s resistance to its action. Knowing that all his deeds so far had been done without resistance on the part of his body, Abraham began to suspect that a heretical thought had entered his mind.
A fierce struggle broke out between the body and the soul that commanded it. Sweat beaded on his forehead, his hands trembled slightly in an effort to subdue the body. The rebellious hand gripped the knife, approaching the bound boy. The legs were heavy and re-fused to carry the weight of the body which bore down upon them. Abraham feared that his powers might depart from him before he could carry out the commandment of his Creator. The mind screamed at the body, trying to subdue the animalistic impulse, to transcend the emotions at play. The heart tried to stop the legs, slowly approaching the only son of Sarah, the love of his life. The mind ordered the father to do his duty. The heart ordered the father to spare his son.
Abraham looked at his beloved son, who lay with his eyes tightly closed on the firewood, his neck stretched out in anticipation. A slight tremor passed through the son’s body, with the father’s loving hand resting on his neck. They mobilized all the powers of their souls to soothe the tremors that gripped the hands and the whole body.
Abraham began to compel his right hand, grasping the knife, forcing his hand to approach the neck ready for slaughter. Screams filled his head, “Nooo!”
In his mind, he yelled back, “I must!” The eyes were flooded with tears, flowing in the grooves of the face, running down the beard. The knife was set on the place of slaughter, all the hand had to do was the will of its owner. Abraham felt a spirit of peace enveloping him suddenly; his heart filled with joy for the impending sacrifice, for his son being chosen for this purpose. He thought to himself, “now…”
He felt his body relax. Beneath his hand, holding his son’s neck, he sensed that the boy had calmed down as well. Abraham moved his hand, felt the warmth of a liquid covering his hand. He realized that his hand has begun to cut into his son’s flesh, knew that a few seconds separated him from the end of the unbearably difficult experience.
“Abraham! Abraham!” The penetrating voice burst into the depths of Abraham, freezing him in his place, restraining his hands from continuing his action. The oozing drops moistened his fingers, which were still on his son’s neck. The voice, caressing and soothing, spread warmly throughout his limbs, ripping him from the halluci¬natory experience in which he had been immersed.
“Here I am!” He whispered, understanding that all of this had been a trial to test him.
The heavenly voice commanded him, “lay not your hand upon the lad!”
"But…” Abraham felt overwhelmed by confusion. Nullification of the order given to him to slaughter his son, a complete abrogation of the royal decree? In order to carry it out, he’d had to mobilize all the powers of his soul — in order to overcome the compassionate impulse pulsating within him; in order to succeed in his mission, now brusquely interrupted. The exhausting internal struggle had stretched his soul taut, like two people at tug-of-war, ending when one side abruptly relinquishes the rope. Abraham felt himself thrown back, sprawling, by his own power, when told to let go.
“In the past You said to me, ‘For in Isaac shall seed be called to you;’ then You said to me: ‘Please take your son;’ and now You say to me: ‘Lay not your hand upon the lad?!’” A feeling of insane frenzy gripped him. “I cannot understand this!” He tried to say, knowing that he had succeeded in conquering his virtues in order to fulfill his task; he would certainly be happier to accept the current directive, to keep his son alive! He felt a struggle between his two halves — complaining, so to speak, about the revocation of the order to kill his son.
“Did I tell you to slaughter him? No, I said ‘And bring him up there as an offering, upon one of the mountains which I will tell you.’ You brought him up; now take him down,” the voice calmed him, resolving the contradictions.
Abraham, whose eyes had hitherto been closed in the complete¬ness of the act of slaughter, opened them slowly, expecting to see the blood of his son flowing through his hands, which were still holding the knife and Isaac’s neck. His eyes widened in astonishment, real¬izing that the liquid that wet his hands were his tears seeping slowly through his sealed eyelids. Isaac, lying still on the altar, seemed oth¬erworldly. His face was as serene as a servant willing to do his duty unquestionably. Abraham gazed at Isaac, who had always looked gentle and even a little girlish; but now his features were different. The girlish look has been replaced by the look of a man of strength, who could handle unbearably difficult trials.
Abraham thought, “something great happened to my son today.”
“Maybe I’ll slaughter a little?” Abraham whispered
“And do nothing to him; do not injure or maim him at all!” the voice ordered. Knowing that father and son were fully prepared to do the deed, it continued, “for now I know that you are a God-fearing man, seeing you have not withheld your son, your only son, from Me. I know that if it were up to you, you would execute the task fully, but I do not want that.”
Isaac blinked, feeling the burning in his eyes, wet from his father’s tears. His gaze was glazed, as if he did not know where he was. Was he alive? Was he dead? He felt his heart beating in him differently, remembering a vision he had witnessed, being ready for slaughter. The pulsating sights he saw in the worlds beyond, as his heart blos¬somed within him, merging with his God, nullifying his very being. His eyes gazed at his beloved father’s face, to see him looking back at him. “It’s over...” His father whispered. “The trial is over...”
Abraham loosened the ropes that bound his son. Isaac descended from the altar, feeling a new spirit pulsing within him. Suddenly, he felt like a person who would be able to withstand any ordeal and any challenge that the future might hold for him.
A rustling sound diverted the attention of the father and son, who had been looking at each other. They turned to the side, their eyes falling upon a ram, caught in a thicket by its horns. The father and son approached the ram to bind it and bring it up as an offering.
“May it be Your will that this be considered as if I offered my son before You...” Abraham whispered a prayer.
“May it be Your will that this be considered as if I were offered as a sacrifice before You...” Isaac appealed.
“May it be Your will that if my descendants sin in the future, You will remember for them this binding — that I bound my son on the altar before You — and You will forgive Your children for their sin,” Abraham pleaded.
Abraham heard the voice, “by Myself have I sworn, says the Lord, because you have done this thing, and have not withheld your son, your only son, that in blessing I will bless you, and in multiplying I will multiply your seed as the stars of the heaven, and as the sand which is upon the seashore; and your seed shall possess the gate of his enemies; and in your seed shall all the nations of the earth be blessed; because you have hearkened to My voice.”
