I have been spending a lot of my time reading and re-reading the text of Genesis 12-25 as I work on writing my master’s thesis. In the project, I am exploring the family of Abraham, and the many systems within the narrative that create conflict between the characters. As part of my analysis, I have written some midrash for each of the key characters, based on the research I have done and the pieces of the text I want to pull to the forefront. This last piece is about Isaac.

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Rebekah, please tell me if I’m not thinking clearly. I want to be righteous, but I feel that I can’t when there are all these questions I have about myself, about my father. Why me, Rebekah? Why us? Why did God choose my father, and why did God choose me over Ishmael? Why am I any more special than anyone else?

            I thought, when my father took me to Moriah, that it would be the end of it. My special status would be confirmed to everyone as I went up in flames. The first human offering to God. That is why God waited so long before he opened by mother’s womb. I was a miracle child, and I would become a witness to God’s loyalty in the fire. I would be made a sacrifice so that my father would be seen as the holiest of men. And in some way, I too was to be made holy because of my death.

But this is not what God wanted from either of us. It was only a test. It tested my father’s faith, but I think it also broke him in some ways. As for me…I feel betrayed by it. Betrayed by my father, and betrayed by God. How could this thing be asked of either of us? Why would my father ever have agreed to take me up that mountain at all? Is it because I was special, or was it because I was replaceable?

            You frown! I knew I should not be thinking these things. Tell me, please, is there another way I should feel about all this? I have thought about that moment every day since it happened, how terrified I was, but how I also saw no way out. And I thought of my brother, and Hagar, living in the wilderness. I thought of my mother, and what she must have thought when we were packing up the camels. I thought of the servants, who would wonder why I had not come down the mountain afterwards, and what my father would say to them. I thought, with horror, that no one would know how holy I was to become if no one was there to witness my death!

            Don’t turn your head from me, Rebekah! I can see that this distresses you, just as it distresses me. But I must know, if my father was willing to kill me to prove his faith, does that mean I was born, chosen by God, so my father could be seen in this light? Or is there something else that makes me chosen? Some other quality within me that I simply cannot see? Or is it only the fact that I am Abraham’s son?…or perhaps, is it that I am Sarah’s son? Is she the one who was special, and we just never knew it? Don’t laugh at me! Please Rebekah, if you love, tell me the truth. What do I have that no one else does? Why am I singled out? What is it about me that makes me worthy?   

            I can see that you do not have any more answers for me than I have for myself. I think, now that my mother has passed, I will need to find Hagar and Ishmael. I should ask my brother about these things. Perhaps he has some insight into my father that I cannot see, and will never see after the events at Moriah. Yes, I need to find my brother. I need to understand why neither one of us is as important as our father.