Our story today circles around the Akeidah, the Binding of Isaac, a pivotal moment in Jewish tradition. Pirkei DeRabbi Eliezer, a fascinating early medieval text filled with aggadic expansions of biblical narratives, offers a profound and somewhat unsettling perspective on the aftermath of this event.
Rabbi Simeon tells us that when Isaac was bound, ready to be offered as a sacrifice, he looked up and saw the glory of the Shekhinah — the divine presence. It's a breathtaking image, isn't it? But according to Rabbi Simeon, this vision came at a cost. As Exodus 33:20 states, "For man shall not see me and live." The text suggests that Isaac didn't die in that moment, but the experience profoundly altered him. Instead of immediate death, "his eyes grew dim in his old age." This, the text argues, is why Genesis 27:1 says, "And it came to pass, that when Isaac was old, that his eyes were dim, so that he could not see."
The implication is clear: Isaac's near-death experience, his vision of the Shekhinah, resulted in his eventual blindness. A powerful, albeit sobering, reminder of the potential consequences of encountering the divine. The text even goes so far as to say, "Hence thou mayest learn that the blind man is as though he were dead." It's a stark statement, equating blindness with a kind of living death, perhaps highlighting the diminished capacity for experiencing the world.
But the story doesn't end there. We transition to the eve of Passover, a night of immense spiritual significance. Isaac calls for Esau, his elder son. He says, "O my son! To-night the heavenly ones utter songs, on this night the treasuries of dew are opened; on this day the blessing of the dews (is bestowed). Make me savoury meat whilst I am still alive, and I will bless thee." Isaac, blind and nearing the end of his life, seeks to bestow his blessing. He recognizes the potent spiritual energy of Passover night.
However, the Holy Spirit, in a sense, interjects. The text quotes Proverbs 23:6, "Eat thou not the bread of him that hath an evil eye, neither desire thou his dainties." Is this a subtle commentary on Esau's character? A warning about the potential for deception or ill intent?
While Esau is away, Rebecca steps in. She tells Jacob, her other son, "On this night the treasuries of dew will be opened, and on this night the angels utter a song. Make savoury meat for thy father, that he may eat and whilst he still lives he may bless thee."
The stage is set for Jacob's famous deception, where he pretends to be Esau in order to receive Isaac's blessing. The text doesn't explicitly condemn Jacob's actions here. Instead, it focuses on the spiritual significance of the night and the power of the blessing itself.
What does this all mean? Perhaps it’s a reminder that even in moments of great spiritual power, human flaws and complexities persist. Isaac's blindness, a consequence of his encounter with the divine, renders him vulnerable and dependent. His sons, Esau and Jacob, are caught in a web of sibling rivalry and deception. And yet, the blessing, a potent force connected to the opening of the "treasuries of dew" on Passover night, remains central to the narrative.
Ultimately, this passage from Pirkei DeRabbi Eliezer invites us to contemplate the profound and often paradoxical nature of faith, the consequences of encountering the Divine, and the enduring power of blessing, even amidst human fallibility. What do you think it means? How do you reconcile the human failings of these Biblical giants with their sacred roles?