So what Sumerian pagan religion did Judaism manifest from?
Shalom (Peace),
Surprisingly enough Philosopher, Judaism did not manifest from any Sumerian pagan religion. Sumerian pagan religions were very idolatrous, so the initiative that only one G-d existed in the entire universe was considered “atheism” (however, not in the sense of today’s definition) to the Sumerians because we rejected thousands of their idols. Such a belief in one G-d could not have derived from another religion because no religion practiced monotheism at such a time.
Ah.... Well, it seems I did miss that turn. I would agree with part of both of your statements, and add a few more additional thoughts of my own. But, such comments would probably belong on a Christian theology forum, not a Jewish thread on a Islamic forum.
For what purpose do Jews understand that Abraham was put to the test?
Was this also a test of Isaac, or just Abraham?
One of the things I see in the story is that Abraham's faith has grown. Years earlier, when in Egypt, Abraham didn't trust God enough to be fully honest and practiced deception with Pharoah regarding his relationship with Sarah. Indeed we see that twice in Abraham's life. But here he is committed to go all the way.
Follow-up questions for personal reflection:
Is this blind obedience?
Is blind obedience a good thing?
What if we think we are being obedient to God, but in reality the voice we are listening to is not God's voice but another's? How does that effect your above answer?
Given the possibility that we are hearing the voice of one other than God, should we test the voices we hear?
Would testing the voices we hear be the same as testing God?
Shalom (Peace),
In commentary on Genesis 22:1 the Midrash Rabba explains that in commentary to,
“And it came to pass after these things, that G-d did test Abraham” Said Rabbi Jonathan: A potter does not examine defective vessels, because he cannot give them a single blow without breaking them. What then does he examine? Only the sound vessels, for he will not break them even with many blows. Similarly, the Holy One, blessed be He, tests not the wicked but the righteous.
Another Midrash Rabba explains that Isaac and Ishmael were engaged in a controversy... Said Ishmael to Isaac: "I am more beloved to G-d than you, since I was circumcised at the age of thirteen, but you were circumcised as a baby and could not refuse." Isaac retorted: "All that you gave up to G-d was three drops of blood. But lo, I am now thirty-seven years old, yet if G-d desired of me that I be slaughtered, I would not refuse. Said the Holy One, blessed be He: "This is the moment!"
Another interesting story from the same Midrash is on:
“And he bound Isaac his son” (22:9) Can one bind a man thirty-seven years old without his consent? But when Abraham made to sacrifice his son Isaac, Isaac said to him: Father, I am a young man and am afraid that my body may tremble through fear of the knife and I will grieve you, whereby the slaughter may be rendered unfit and this will not count as a real sacrifice; therefore bind me very firmly."
In commentary of the verse,
“And an angel of G-d called to him... "Lay not your hand upon the lad, neither do anything to him" (22:11-12)” An interesting story was related by Rabbi Schneur Zalman of Liadi:
In Mezeritch, it was extremely difficult to be accepted as a disciple of our master, Rabbi DovBer. There were a group of Chassidim who, having failed to merit to learn directly from our master, wanted to at least serve his pupils: to bring them water to wash their hands upon waking, to sweep the floors of the study hall, to heat the ovens during the winter months, and so on. These were known as "the oven stokers."
One winter night, as I lay on a bench in the study hall, I overheard a conversation between three of the "oven stokers." "What was the specialty of the test of the Akeidah?" the first one asked. "If G-d had revealed Himself to me and commanded me to sacrifice my only son, would I not obey?"
Answering his own question, he said: "If G-d told me to sacrifice my only son, I would delay my doing so for a while, to keep him with me for a few days. Abrahams greatness lay in that he arose early in the morning to immediately fulfill the divine command."
Said the second one: "If G-d told me to sacrifice my only son, I, too, would waste not a moment to carry out His command. But I would do so with a heavy heart. Abrahams greatness lay in that he went to the Akeidah with a heart full of joy over the opportunity to fulfill G-ds will."
Said the third: "I, too, would carry out G-ds will with joy. I think that Abrahams uniqueness lies in his reaction upon finding out that it was all a test. When G-d commanded him Do not touch the child, and do nothing to him, Abraham was overjoyed--not because his only child would not die, but because he was being given the opportunity to carry out another command of G-d."
Rabbi Schneur Zalman concluded: "Do you think this was mere talk? Each of them was describing the degree of self-sacrifice he himself had attained in his service of the Almighty."
So here is probably the answer to your first question. The purpose of the world is so man van exercise his free will. Therefore, Abraham did the following with his free will in the realm of the specific attributes he was tested on:
1. He arose early in the morning, therefore not even doubting for one minute on whether to follow G-d or not.
2. He went up with a heart full of joy. Now anyone who would be under the impression that he was sacrificing his son would never be full of joy. However, his faith was so high that he did not doubt the temporary status of the earth for a second, in that he had complete faith in G-d.
3. His joy was not because he would not kill his child but because he would follow another commandment of G-d’s. This leads to the devotion aspect of his soul in which Abraham used his free will to elevate. Revealing the joy that following one of G-d’s instructions brought him.
On the subject of Abraham’s growing faith; this particular question--what is it that sets apart the Akeidah from the countless other instances of human martyrdom and self-sacrifice--is raised by almost all the commentaries and expounders of Torah.
For the "Binding of Isaac" has come to represent the ultimate in the Jew's devotion to G-d. Every morning, we preface our prayers by reading the Torah's account of the Akeidah and then say: "Master of the Universe! Just as Abraham our father suppressed his compassion for his only son to do Your will with a whole heart, so may Your compassion suppress Your wrath against us, and may Your mercy prevail over Your attributes of strict justice."
And on Rosh Hashanah, when the world trembles in judgment before G-d, we evoke the Binding of Isaac by sounding the horn of a ram (reminiscent of the ram which replaced Isaac as an offering) as if to say: If we have no other merit, remember Abraham's deed. Remember how the first Jew bound all succeeding generations of Jews in a covenant of self-sacrifice to You.
Obviously, the supreme test of a person's faith is his willingness to sacrifice his very existence for its sake. But what is so unique about Abraham's sacrifice? Have not countless thousands of Jews given their lives rather than renounce their covenant with the Almighty?
One might perhaps explain that the willingness to sacrifice one's child is a far greater demonstration of faith than to forfeit one's own life. But in this, too, Abraham was not unique. Time and again through the generations, Jews have encouraged their children to go to their deaths rather than violate their faith. Typical is the story of "Chanah and her seven sons," who, seeing her seven children tortured to death rather than bow before a Greek idol, proclaimed: "My children! Go to Abraham your father and say to him: You bound one offering upon the altar, and I have bound seven offerings..."
Furthermore, while Abraham was prepared to sacrifice his son, in thousands of Akeidot throughout our history Jews actually gave up their lives and the lives of their entire families. And, unlike Abraham, G-d had not directly spoken to them and requested their sacrifice; their deeds were based on their own convictions and the strength of their commitment to an invisible and often elusive G-d. And many gave their lives rather than violate even a relatively minor tenet of their faith, even in cases in which the Torah does not require the Jew to do so.
Nevertheless, as the Abrabanel writes in his commentary on Genesis, it is the Binding of Isaac "that is forever on our lips in our prayers... For in it lies the entire strength of Israel and their merit before their Heavenly Father..." Why? What about the many thousands who made the ultimate sacrifice in reiteration of our loyalty to G-d?
The same question may be asked in regard to Abraham himself. The Akeidah was the tenth and final "test" in Abraham's life. In his first test of faith, Abraham was cast into a fiery furnace for his refusal to acknowledge the arch-idol of his native Ur Casdim, the emperor Nimrod, and his continued commitment to teaching the world the truth of a one, non-corporeal and omnipotent G-d. All this before G-d had revealed Himself to him and had chosen him and his descendents to serve as a "light unto the nations" and the purveyors of His word to humanity.
This early act of self-sacrifice seems, in a certain respect, to be even greater than the latter ones. A man, all on his own, comes to recognize the truth and devotes himself to its dissemination--to the extent that he is even willing to sacrifice his very life to this end. All this without a command or even sign from Above.
And yet, the Binding of Isaac is considered the most important test of Abraham's faith. The Talmud asks: Why did G-d, in commanding Abraham on the Akeidah, say "Please, take your son"? Answers the Talmud: "G-d said to Abraham: 'I have tried you with many tests and you have withstood them all. Now, I beg you, please withstand this test for Me, lest they say that the earlier ones were of no substance.'" (Talmud, Sanhedrin 89b).
Again we ask, Why? Granting that the Akeidah was the most demanding test of all, why are the others "of no substance" without it?
The Chassidic Masters explain the significance of the Akeida with a metaphor:
Once there was an untamed wilderness. Not a trail penetrated its thick underbrush, not a map charted its forbidding terrain. But one day there came a man who accomplished the impossible: he cut a path through this impregnable land.
Many trod in his footsteps. It was still a most difficult journey, but they had his charts to consult, his trail to follow. Over the years, there were some who made the journey under even more trying conditions than those which had challenged the first pioneer: while he had done his work in broad daylight, they stumbled about in the black of night; while he had only his determination for company, they made the trip weighed down by heavy burdens. But all were equally indebted to him. Indeed, all their attainments could be said to be but extensions of his own great deed.
Abraham was the pioneer of self sacrifice. And the first instance of true self sacrifice in all of history was the Binding of Isaac.
For to sacrifice one's self is not the same as to sacrifice one's life--there is a world of difference between the two.
The human story includes many chapters of heroic sacrifice. Every generation and society has had its martyrs--individuals who gave their lives for their faith, for their homeland, and for virtually every cause under the sun. They did so for a variety of reasons. For some it was an act of desperation: to them, their lives were not worth living unless a certain objective could be attained. Others believed that their deed would be richly rewarded in the hereafter, so they readily exchanged the temporal benefits of physical life for the soul's eternal gain. Finally, there were those for whom their cause had grown to be more significant to them than their lives: they had come to so completely identify with a certain goal that it became more integral to their "self" than their existence as individuals.
In all the above cases, the martyr is sacrificing his life, but not his self. Indeed, he is sacrificing his physical life for the sake of his self, whether it is for the sake of the self projected by his obsession, the spiritual self of his immortal soul, or a broader, universal "self" he has come to identify with. Ultimately, his is a selfish act; "selfish" in the most positive and altruistic sense of the word--here is an individual who has succeeded in transcending the narrow, material definition of "self" which dominates in our corporeal world--but selfish nonetheless.
Abraham was a man with a mission. A mission for which he sacrificed everything, a mission more important to him than his own life.
For many years he had agonized over the fact that there was no heir to this mission, that his work of bringing the beliefs and ethics of Monotheism to a pagan world would cease with his passing from the world. Then came the Divine promise: miraculously, at the age of 100, he will have a son, out of whom will stem the people of Israel. "You shall call his name Isaac," said G-d, "and I shall establish My covenant with him for an everlasting covenant, and with his descendants after him."
And then G-d told him to destroy it all.
When Abraham bound Isaac upon the altar, it was not in the service of any calling or cause. In fact, it ran contrary to everything he believed in and taught, to everything he had sacrificed his life for, to everything G-d Himself had told him. He could see no reason, no purpose for his act. Every element of his self cried out against it--his material self, his spiritual self, his transcendent, altruistic self. But he did it. Why? Because G-d had told him to.
Abraham was the pioneer of self sacrifice. Before Abraham, the self was inviolable territory. Man could enlighten the self's priorities, he could even broaden and sublimate it, but he could not supersede it. Indeed, how could he? As a creature of free choice, man's every act stems from within: his every deed has a motive (conscious or otherwise), and his every motive has a rationale--a reason why it is beneficial to his own existence. So how could he be motivated to annihilate his own self? The instinct to preserve and enhance one's self is the source and objective of a creature's every drive and desire--man could no more transcend it than lift himself up by pulling on the hair of his own head.
Yet Abraham did the impossible. He sacrificed his self for the sake of something beyond the scope of the most transcendent of identities. Had he not done so, no other act of self-sacrifice--previous or subsequent, of his own or of his descendents--could be presumed to be of any "substance," to be anything more than a product of the self. But when Abraham bound Isaac upon the altar, the heavenly voice proclaimed: "Now I know that you fear G-d." Now I know that the will of G-d supersedes even your most basic instincts. Now I know that all your deeds, including those which could be explained as self-motivated, are, in essence, driven by the desire to serve your Creator. Now I know that your entire life was of true, selfless substance.
So when we speak of the Akeidah, we also speak of those who trod the path this great deed blazed. Of the countless thousands who died for the creed of Abraham, of the many millions who lived for its sake. Their sacrifices, great and petty, cataclysmic and everyday, may, on the surface, seem but the outgrowth of their personal beliefs and aspirations: commendable and extraordinary, but only the fulfillment of an individual soul's identity. But the Akeidah revealed them to be so much more than that.
For Abraham bequeathed to his descendents the essence of Jewishness: that at the core of one's very being lies not the self but one's commitment to the Creator. And that, ultimately, one's every choice and act is an expression of that "spark of Divinity" within.
Now to your personal reflection questions:
1. I am not sure if it was blind obedience or not. It would depend on what Abraham knew about this test and what he did not know about this test to really analyze if Abraham was being led “blind”.
2. It depends on the situation. You should do things because of trust that G-d knows the overall purpose. However, blind obedience towards humans which are fallible creatures is probably not a good thing.
3. I will try to explain a complicated Jewish concept. The voices of our great sages are inspired by the voice of G-d. The perfect example is in the Torah, telling us that we should listen to judges and obey their rulings without veering to the left or the right of their judgment. Are judges not fallible creatures? Can they not make mistakes? Why follow them so blindly? G-d influences their decision to make the right judgment for the Jewish people at that time.
I will relate to you a story that is found in the Talmud, Bava Metzia 59a-b
[An oven] that was cut into parts and sand was placed between the parts, Rabbi Eliezer maintained that it is pure (i.e., not susceptible to ritual impurity). The other sages said that it is susceptible to ritual impurity....
On that day, Rabbi Eliezer brought them all sorts of proofs, but they were rejected. Said he to them: "If the law is as I say, may the carob tree prove it." The carob tree was uprooted from its place a distance of 100 cubits. Others say, 400 cubits. Said they to him: "One cannot prove anything from a carob tree."
Said [Rabbi Eliezer] to them: "If the law is as I say, may the aqueduct prove it." The water in the aqueduct began to flow backwards. Saidthey to him: "One cannot prove anything from an aqueduct."
Said he to them: "If the law is as I say, then may the walls of the house of study prove it." The walls of the house of study began to cave in. Rabbi Joshua rebuked them, "If Torah scholars are debating a point of Jewish law, what are your qualifications to intervene?" The walls did not fall, in deference to Rabbi Joshua, nor did they straighten up, in deference to Rabbi Eliezer. They still stand there at a slant.
Said he said to them: "If the law is as I say, may it be proven from heaven!" There then issued a heavenly voice which proclaimed: "What do you want of Rabbi Eliezer -- the law is as he says..."
Rabbi Joshua stood on his feet and said: "'The Torah is not in heaven!'" ... We take no notice of heavenly voices, since You, G-d, have already, at Sinai, written in the Torah to "follow the majority."
Rabbi Nathan subsequently met Elijah the Prophet and asked him: "What did G-d do at that moment?" [Elijah] replied: "He smiled and said: 'My children have triumphed over Me, My children have triumphed over Me.'"
What can be learned from such a story in the Holy Talmud? Rab Eliezer brought all the proofs of G-d, yet the Sages did not flinch. The basis of the voice of G-d is the Torah. If anything contradicts the Torah than it is not the voice of G-d. No matter what power you will find in it. That is how we judge what the voice of G-d is.
4. The test is if that voice contradicts the Torah.
5. I don’t think so, because testing something to see if it corresponds with the Torah is necessary and is not actually testing G-d but instead trying to find out if a voice is in accordance with G-d’s will.
