Avraham’s journey introduced two fundamental traditions. For nearly two thousand years, Hashem had seemed remote and withdrawn from humanity. Dwelling in the heavens, He rarely conversed directly with people. As humanity fell into moral decline, He responded with severe judgments. Yet, during this period, communication with the Divine remained limited; there was little dialogue between humankind and Hashem in Heaven.
Avraham revolutionized humanity’s relationship with Hashem. Unlike previous generations, who had little direct contact with Hashem, Avraham not only received multiple prophecies about his future but also engaged in direct conversations with Hashem. He prayed fervently, received oaths and promises from Hashem, and even hosted Hashem in his humble tent while he recovered from his circumcision. Avraham succeeded in transforming a distant, transcendent G-d into an immanent (pervasive) presence, making Hashem a tangible part of the human experience. Avraham established the tradition of prophecy, confirming that Hashem speaks directly to man.
Avraham also established a legacy of moral consciousness. He discerned a moral spirit embedded within Nature, and assumed that there must be a moral architect to this grand design. He recognized that Hashem’s will was not only present in the upper cosmos, but also in the moral fabric of life. With this understanding, he shaped his own personality to reflect these values, becoming an agent of moral welfare for others. He ended military conflicts, negotiated peace with enemies, and settled disputes graciously. He liberated his nephew Lot from captivity, hosted anonymous travelers, and defended the sinners of Sodom. Every action was driven by ethical standards, establishing a moral tradition of behavior.
Throughout Avraham’s life, his prophetic conversations with Hashem and his moral actions seemed aligned. Prophecy and morality were synchronous. Until they weren’t.
At the end of his life, Avraham received a chilling prophecy to sacrifice his son. Had he not already been convinced of the reliability and authenticity of previous prophecies he could not possibly have carried out such a command. However, the Divine voice he heard was one he had come to recognize and, as he had done countless times before, he responded with “Hineni,” “Here I am,” ready to follow Hashem’s will without hesitation. The voice he heard emanating from Heaven was a familiar one.
However, this prophetic command directly contradicted his moral principles. It implied that Hashem desired human sacrifice, a practice Avraham had long rejected as part of the pagan cultures he renounced. How could he, a father, take the life of his own child? This divine instruction tested the foundation of his moral framework.
As a deeply religious individual, Avraham accepted the prophecy. He recognized that while human morality may clash with Divine command, ultimate submission to Hashem’s will is essential. Religious faith sometimes requires placing human moral reasoning beneath Divine instruction. Human understanding sometimes fails to grasp the full moral reasoning behind Hashem’s command, and religious commitment means trusting that Divine decisions are inherently moral—even when they appear incomprehensible. This is the hallmark of a devout personality, where faith and submission take precedence over personal moral judgment.
Yet, despite his practical submission to Divine mandate, Avraham’s approach to the Akeidah was not one of emotional detachment or robotic obedience. Rather, he maintained a deep, personal connection to his son throughout the ordeal. Instead of viewing the act as an impersonal command, Avraham referred to Yitzchak repeatedly as “his son,” never allowing himself to depersonalize his child. While his obedience to Hashem was absolute, he refused to sever the natural, instinctive love he felt as a father.
The Midrash paints a poignant picture of Avraham’s internal moral struggle during the Akeidah. Despite his willingness to submit, he prayed fervently for Hashem to rescind the decree, unable to quell the natural love and sorrow he felt for his son. The Midrash further describes Avraham crying tears of a mournful father, even though his heart was overjoyed to obey Divine instructions. This emotional complexity reveals the depth of Avraham’s character: he did not abandon his human emotions or moral spirit. Believing that prophecy and morality could, in the end, be reconciled, he also acknowledged that such reconciliation was beyond his immediate grasp. Facing this quandary and unwavering in his faith, he submitted to Divine expectation, while still acknowledging the moral moment.
Back to Avraham
We stand today, like Avraham, atop the mountain, facing the delicate challenge of reconciling morality and prophecy. After millennia of exile, we have returned to fulfill ancient prophecies in the land granted to us by Hashem. We have acted morally both in settling the land and in striving for peace with our neighbors. We have tried repeatedly to avoid war and conflict, yet violence, and war have been mercilessly and ceaselessly foisted upon us.
The baseless accusations against us, that of apartheid and genocide, are nothing more than venomous lies, reminiscent of the many falsehoods we have endured for over two millennia. These pervasive and toxic lies bear no semblance to reality.
Yet independent of this cacophony of lies and libels, we do face our own moral conscience. Unfortunately, our just war has caused death and suffering of innocents. Sadly, we still aren’t welcomed peacefully into our prophetic homeland by those who also live in this region. Like Avraham we shouldn’t quiet these questions, but like Avraham we shouldn’t abandon these prophecies simply because we can’t solve the entire moral calculus.
Like Avraham we know that ultimately, our adherence to prophecy is also a moral crusade. Our return to the land of Israel is part of a divine prophecy meant to bring about a better world—spiritually and materially. Redemption for the Jewish people is not just a narrow, parochial aim but is designed to usher in an improved world for all.
Unfortunately, the world is still broken and unwilling to recognize or accept this prophetic vision. It struggles to comprehend the morality of our return, caught in skepticism and cynicism. Look through the confusion. Our presence in Israel is both a spiritual and moral imperative, meant to benefit not just Israel, but all of humanity. Don’t abandon prophecy and don’t abandon our moral spirit.
Non-Biblical Jews
Not only is the world uneasy, but certain Jews also remain morally unsettled. Biblical Jews, though not classically observant, still believe in ancient prophecies and in our Divine rights to the land of Israel. They frame our return to Israel within the prophetic promises that guide it. On the other hand, Jews who do not identify with Biblical prophecies, face a more difficult time justifying our presence in the land and our efforts to defend it. Without a prophetic context, the spiritual significance of the return appears more ambiguous, impeding and complicating their understanding of its legitimacy.
Their inability to view our current condition through prophetic lenses also makes antisemitism more bewildering. For a prophetic Jew, the hatred and anti-Semitism, while tragic and evil, are somewhat comprehensible. As we strive to fulfill ancient prophecies and return to our land, those who oppose Hashem’s presence in the world forcefully resist us. Their opposition is not just a political stance, but a spiritual conflict, intrinsically tied to the Divine plan that they reject.
For those who don’t frame our return in prophetic terms, the disproportionate hatred directed against us is baffling. Why the double standard? Why the rabid violence? Why are we the only country whose right to exist is challenged in international courts of law?
Avraham is alive today through his descendants. Like him, we blend prophecy and morality. Even when their union isn’t immediately logical. n
Rabbi Moshe Taragin is a rabbi at the hesder Yeshivat Har Etzion/Gush, with YU ordination and a master’s in English literature from CUNY. His most recent book Reclaiming Redemption: Deciphering the Maze of Jewish History (Mosaica Press) is available in bookstores or at www.reclaimingredemption.com.
