Thread by @MisfitTorah

So here's my a little out there dvar Torah for this week's parsha

Bear with me because I'm not sure where this'll end up

For years, I have been annoyed by this notion that has become current in some circles that Avraham, by almost sacrificing his son, failed the akedah

It goes completely against the plain meaning of the text! It's the kind of self-satisfied devar Torah that refuses to challenge people! It's the scourge of American religion, elevating unchallenged existence as a Supreme value!

I mostly stand by that.

But I might be wrong.

A lot of people know the Rashi on "and bring him up as a burnt offering" really meaning "just bring him up, don't kill him or anything". Up until now, I've interpreted that mostly as an attempt to square a contradiction in the divine command.

God said bring him up as a burnt offering. God said, later, don't. What gives? When God said bring him up, what he really meant, etc etc

That's what I thought until I saw how Ibn Ezra describes this position. Check this out:

Avraham *didn't understand* the divine command, thus he *hurried* to sacrifice Yitzchak, until God had to tell him "no that's not what I meant"
Wow. Granted, Ibn Ezra might be polemically describing that position. But still. Wow.

That said, try to read into the peshat, and you're left with some real issues.
Does God express, explicitly, any dissatisfaction or disappointment in Avraham? No.

Is "bring him up a mountain but don't kill him as a burnt offering" a reasonable reading of "bring him up as a burnt offering"
Very hard to argue yes.

So what's going on here?
Let's go on a detour, let's talk about what derash is, as opposed to peshat.

Peshat is the straightforward read of a text. What it says. Literally, contextually, as understood by original audience, authorial intent, whatever you want to use as your barometer.

Derash is trickier. Sometimes derash is trying to answer a question from the peshat. Sometimes it'll bring in information to explain a text.
Other times it'll stretch the text's meaning seemingly beyond its limits, interpreting almost against the peshat.

A typical case of seeming to stretch the meaning of a text, beyond its limitations, beyond even reality.

"Yaakov Avinu, Jacob our forefather, never died!" says R. Yitzchak
The hell do you mean, says R. Nachman. He's buried and eulogized. Peshat is he's dead. What the hell are you talking about?
"Well, I've got a passuk"

R. Yitzchak Hutner, building, as he does, off of a bunch of other sources, which I won't cite because I'm not going to give over a whole maamar to you on Twitter, posits the existence of multiple interpretive universes, as I'll call it.

In the peshat level of reality, the level of reality readily apparent to us, that corresponds to real life events, Yaakov indeed dies. But there are other universes of interpretive possibility. In that "derash existence" Yaakov doesn't die.

And we only have access to that reality through hints scattered through scripture, word choices, extra letters, a turn of phrase here and there

Every peshat event is imprinted with traces of alternative, derash realities

Realities that didn't *happen* happen, but could have, and in some sense, did happen.

The akedah is a particularly ripe for seeing alternative derash realities. In some respects, it already is one. The whole point of the akedah is one of a possibility averted, a willing sacrifice almost given but then not given.

The whole akedah is an event being seen as if it happened, but in the end not happening, and Avraham being rewarded not for what he did, but what he would have done

As such, rabbinic literature teems with the derash alternative realities of this event.

One particularly interesting alternative derash reality is one that believes that Yitzchak actually does die at the akedah, that Avraham in fact follows through. Liturgical allusions to the ashes of Yitzchak on the altar exist. Piyyutim have been built on this idea.

Obviously it's against a straightforward read of the story. But the story leaves that possibility open, seemingly deliberately. Who comes down from the mountain after Avraham and Yitzchak go up?

Someone's missing!

So back to Avraham being commanded to bring his son up as a burnt offering

On a peshat level, it means, straightforwardly, sacrifice your son and let his body be consumed by the fire completely. On a peshat level, Avraham is not faulted for following the plain meaning of his instructions.

On a peshat level, he does not fail, he is in fact rewarded and praised for his actions.

But Avraham fails to see the derashic potential laden in the word "bring him up", how that word could be read as ambiguous, how a derash exists that may be God's real intention

Thus on a derash level, he is faulted. Even if, on the peshat level, he is praised. Avraham doesn't see the derash, he only sees the peshat, so in the derash, he is faulted.

I end on this note: Are we sure that we are listening for the derash in our peshat? Are we sure we are truly using every tool at our disposal to understand the divine command? Or are we content with our peshat view of reality and it's attendant peshat?

And who gets sacrificed when we don't listen for and look for the derash?

I wanted to just briefly expand on a point, about the idea Yitzchak is killed at the akedah. First off, here's something I wrote about it which I still think is my finest piece of writing pinkasot.wordpress.com/2014/11/02/dev…

Secondly, the fact that such an idea exists doesn't mean we have to seriously consider the possibility of Yitzchak dying at the akedah. What it does mean, however, is that that possibility was there.

In the words of R. Hutner (in a different place), the hava amina, starting assumption (that God would demand sacrifice) is still something I would have assumed and thus valid, even when falsified by a maskana, the conclusion

As soon as Avraham lifts his knife, that derash reality is created, the one where he follows through and plunges it down. The interpretive universe splinters around that moment. The peshat takes a sharp right. The derash keeps going straight.

Oh, also, the maamar of Pachad Yitzchak I quoted is Pesach 52. It's a good one.