Our story today, drawn from Pirkei DeRabbi Eliezer, a fascinating collection of stories and interpretations of the Torah, touches on just such a moment in the life of Abraham.
The scene: Abraham, following God's almost incomprehensible command, is leading his son Isaac to Mount Moriah for… well, we know what for. It's a journey fraught with tension, with faith tested to its absolute limit. But it’s what happens on the third day that really grabs us.
The text tells us, "On the third day they reached Zophim." Now, Zophim means "watchers," a fitting name, because as they arrive, something extraordinary happens. They see the Shekhinah – that radiant, palpable presence of God – resting on the mountain. As Genesis 22:4 says, "On the third day Abraham lifted up his eyes, and saw the place afar off."
But what exactly did he see?
Pirkei DeRabbi Eliezer paints a vivid picture: a pillar of fire reaching from earth to heaven. Imagine that for a moment. A blazing connection, a visual confirmation that Abraham is on the right path, that his offering – his willingness – has been accepted. He understands, in that instant, that Isaac has been accepted for the olah temimah, the perfect burnt offering.
This is where it gets interesting. Abraham turns to Ishmael and Eliezer, his companions on this agonizing journey. "Do you see anything upon one of those mountains?" he asks.
And they answer, simply, "No."
Now, Abraham's response might sound harsh to our modern ears. Pirkei DeRabbi Eliezer tells us, "He considered them (as dull) as an ass." He then tells them, "Abide ye here with the ass… with such who are similar to the ass." Ouch.
Strong words. But what’s really going on here? It’s not just about sight, is it? It's about spiritual perception. Abraham, in his unwavering faith, sees the divine presence. Ishmael and Eliezer, for whatever reason, do not. It’s a stark reminder that faith isn’t always shared, that sometimes we walk our paths alone, even when surrounded by others.
Perhaps Ishmael and Eliezer lacked the spiritual preparation, the intense focus, or maybe simply the capacity to perceive what Abraham did. The text doesn't elaborate on their shortcomings, only highlighting the difference in their perception.
What does this story leave us with? Maybe it’s this: the reminder that faith is a deeply personal journey. That sometimes, we will see things that others don’t. And that even in those moments of solitary clarity, we must continue to walk our path, guided by what we believe to be true, even when others remain behind, seeing nothing but the ordinary. Can we find the courage to follow our own "pillars of fire," even when those around us see only mountains?