The Test of Faith: Abraham's Sacrifice of Isaac - Prof. Barak Krakauer, Study notes of Introduction to Philosophy

Download The Test of Faith: Abraham's Sacrifice of Isaac - Prof. Barak Krakauer and more Study notes Introduction to Philosophy in PDF only on Docsity! Excerpts
from
Fear
and
Trembling,
Part
2
 All
was
lost
[when
God
asked
Abraham
to
sacrifice
Isaac]
and
more
terribly
than
 if
 a
 son
 had
 never
 been
 given
 him!
 The
 Lord
 had
 only
 mocked
 Abraham,
 then!
 Miraculously
he
had
realized
the
unreasonable
hopes
of
Abraham;
and
now
he
wished
 to
 take
 away
 what
 be
 had
 given.
 A
 foolish
 hope
 it
 had
 been,
 but
 Abraham
 had
 not
 laughed
when
the
promise
had
been
made
him.
Now
all
was
lost—the
trusting
hope
of
 seventy
years,
the
brief
joy
at
the
fulfillment
of
his
hopes.
Who,
then,
is
he
that
snatches
 away
the
old
man's
staff,
who
that
demands
that
he
himself
shall
break
it
in
two?
Who
is
 he
 that
 renders
disconsolate
 the
grey
hair
of
old
age,
who
 is
he
 that
demands
 that
he
 himself
shall
do
it?
Is
there
no
pity
for
the
venerable
old
man,
and
none
for
the
innocent
 child?
And
yet
was
Abraham
God's
 chosen
one,
 and
yet
was
 it
 the
Lord
 that
 tempted
 him.
And
now
all
was
to
be
lost
I
The
glorious
remembrance
of
him
by
a
whole
race,
the
 promise
of
Abraham's
seed‑all
that
was
but
a
whim,
a
passing
fancy
of
the
Lord,
which
 Abraham
 was
 now
 to
 destroy
 forever!
 That
 glorious
 treasure,
 as
 old
 as
 the
 faith
 in
 Abraham's
 heart,
 and
many,
many
 years
 older
 than
 Isaac,
 the
 fruit
 of
 Abraham's
 life,
 sanctified
by
prayers,
matured
 in
struggles—the
blessing
on
 the
 lips
of
Abraham:
 this
 fruit
 was
 now
 to
 be
 plucked
 before
 the
 appointed
 time,
 and
 to
 remain
 without
 significance;
for
of
what
significance
were
it
if
Isaac
was
to
be
sacrificed?
That
sad
and
 yet
blessed
hour
when
Abraham
was
to
take
 leave
 f
rom
all
 that
was
dear
to
him,
 the
 hour
when
he
would
once
more
lift
up
his
venerable
head,
when
his
 face
would
shine
 like
the
countenance
of
the
Lord,
 the
hour
when
he
would
collect
his
whole
soul
 for
a
 blessing
strong
enough
to
render
Isaac
blessed
all
the
days,
of
his
life‑that
hour
was
not
 to
come!
He
was
to
say
farewell
to
Isaac,
to
be
sure,
but
in
such
wise
that
he
himself
was
 to
remain
behind;
death
was
to
part
them,
but
in
such
wise
that
Isaac
was
to
die.
The
old
 man
was
not
in
happiness
to
lay
his
hand
on
Isaac's
head
when
the
hour
of
death
came,
 but,
tired
of
life,
to
lay
violent
hands
on
Isaac.
And
it
was
God
who
tempted
him.
Woe,
 woe
 to
 the
messenger
who
would
have
come
before
Abraham
with
 such
a
 command!
 Who
would
have
dared
to
be
the
messenger
of
such
dread
tidings?
But
it
was
God
that
 tempted
Abraham.
 But
Abraham
had
faith,
and
had
faith
for
this
life.
Indeed,
had
his
faith
been
but
 concerning
 the
 life
 to
come,
 then
might
he
more
easily
have
cast
away
all,
 in
order
 to
 hasten
out
of
this
world
which
was
not
his.
.
.
.
 But
Abraham
had
faith
and
doubted
not,
but
trusted
that
the
improbable
would
 come
to
pass.
If
Abraham
had
doubted,
then
would
he
have
undertaken
something
else,
 something
great
and
noble;
for
what
could
Abraham
have
undertaken
but
was
great
and
 noble!
He
would
have
proceeded
to
Mount
Moriah,
he
would
have
cloven
the
wood,
and
 fired
 it,
 and
unsheathed
his
knife—he
would
have
 cried
out
 to
God:
 "Despise
not
 this
 sacrifice;
it
is
not,
indeed,
the
best
I
have;
for
what
is
an
old
man
against
a
child
foretold
 of
 God;
 but
 it
 is
 the
 best
 I
 can
 give
 thee.
 Let
 Isaac
 never
 know
 that
 he
 must
 find
 consolation
 in
his
youth."
He
would
have
plunged
 the
steel
 in
his
own
breast.
And
he
 would
 have
 been
 admired
 throughout
 the
world,
 and
 his
 name
would
 not
 have
 been
 forgotten;
but
it
is
one
thing
to
be
admired
and
another,
to
be
a
lode‑star
which
guides
 one
troubled
in
mind.
 But
Abraham
had
faith.
He
prayed
not
for
mercy
and
that
he
might
prevail
upon
 the
Lord:
it
was
only
when
just
retribution
was
to
be
visited
upon
Sodom
and
Gomorrha
 that
Abraham
ventured
to
beseech
Him
for
mercy.
 Many
a
father
there
has
been
who
thought
that
with
his
child
he
lost
the
dearest
 of
 all
 there
was
 in
 the
world
 for
him;
yet
 assuredly
no
 child
ever
was
 in
 that
 sense
a
 pledge
of
God
as
was
Isaac
to
Abraham.
Many
a
father
there
has
been
who
lost
his
child;
 but
then
it
was
God,
the
unchangeable
and
inscrutable
will
of
the
Almighty
and
His
hand
 which
 took
 it.
Not
 thus
with
Abraham.
For
him
was
reserved
a
more
severe
 trial,
and
 Isaac's
 fate
was
put
 into
Abraham's
hand
together
with
 the
knife.
And
there
he
stood,
 the
old
man,
with
his
only
hope!
Yet
did
he
not
doubt,
nor
look
anxiously
to
the
left
or
 right,
 nor
 challenge
Heaven
with
 his
 prayers.
 He
 knew
 it
was
 God
 the
 Almighty
who
 now
put
him
to
the
test;
he
knew
it
was
the
greatest
sacrifice
which
could
be
demanded
 of
him;
but
he
knew
also
that
no
sacrifice
was
too
great
which
God
demanded—and
he
 drew
forth
his
knife….
 Now
the
story
of
Abraham
has
the
remarkable
property
of
always
being
glorious,
 in
 however
 limited
 a
 sense
 it
 is
 understood;
 still,
 here
 also
 the
 point
 is
whether
 one
 means
 to
 labor
 and
 exert
 one's
 self.
 Now
 people
 do
 not
 care
 to
 labor
 and
 exert
 themselves,
 but
wish
 nevertheless
 to
 understand
 the
 story.
 They
 extol
 Abraham,
 but
 how?
By
expressing
the
matter
 in
the
most
general
terms
and
saying:
"the
great
thing
 about
him
was
that
he
loved
God
so
ardently
that
he
was
willing
to
sacrifice
to
Him
his
 most
precious
possession."
That
is
very
true;
but
"the
most
precious
possession"
is
an
 indefinite
expression.
As
one's
thoughts,
and
one's
mouth,
run
on
one
assumes,
in
a
very
 easy
fashion,
the
identity
of
Isaac
and
"the
most
precious
possession"—and
meanwhile
 he
who
 is
meditating
may
 smoke
 his
 pipe,
 and
 his
 audience
 comfortably
 stretch
 out
 their
legs.
If
the
rich
youth
whom
Christ
met
on
his
way[13]had
sold
all
his
possessions
 and
given
all
to
the
poor,
we
would
extol
him
as
we
extol
all
which
is
great—aye,
would
 not
 understand
 even
 him
 without
 labor;
 and
 yet
 would
 he
 never
 have
 become
 an
 Abraham,
 notwithstanding
 his
 sacrificing
 the
most
 precious
 possessions
 he
 had.
 That
 which
 people
 generally
 forget
 in
 the
 story
 of
 Abraham
 is
 his
 fear
 and
 anxiety;
 for
 as
 regards
money,
one
is
not
ethically
responsible
for
it,
whereas
for
his
son
a
father
has
 the
 highest
 and
 most
 sacred
 responsibility.
 However,
 fear
 is
 a
 dreadful
 thing
 for
 timorous
spirits,
so
they
omit
it.
And
yet
they
wish
to
speak
of
Abraham.
 So
they
keep
on
speaking,
and
in
the
course
of
their
speech
the
two
terms
Isaac
 and
"the
most
precious
thing"
are
used
alternately,
and
everything
is
in
the
best
order.
 But
 now
 suppose
 that
 among
 the
 audience
 there
 was
 a
 man
 who
 suffered
 with
 sleeplessness—and
 then
 the
most
 terrible
 and
 profound,
 the
most
 tragic,
 and
 at
 the
 same
time
the,
most
comic,
misunderstanding
is
within
the
range
of
possibility.
That
is,
 suppose
this
man
goes
home
and
wishes
to
do
as
did
Abraham;
for
his
son
is
his
most
 precious
possession.
If
a
certain
preacher
learned
of
this
he
would,
perhaps,
go
to
him,
 he
would
 gather
up
 all
 his
 spiritual
 dignity
 and
 exclaim:
 "'Thou
abominable
 creature,
 thou
 scum
of
 humanity,
what
 devil
 possessed
 thee
 to
wish
 to
murder
 son?"
And
 this
 preacher,
who
had
not
felt
any
particular
warmth,
nor
perspired
while
speaking
about
 Abraham,
this
preacher
would
be
astonished
himself
at
the
earnest
wrath
with
which
he
 poured
 forth
 his
 thunders
 against
 that
 poor
 wretch;
 indeed,
 he
 would
 rejoice
 over
 This
last
movement,
the
paradoxical
movement
of
faith,
I
cannot
make,
whether
 or
no
it
be
my
duty,
although
I
desire
nothing
more
ardently
than
to
be
able
to
make
it.
 It
must
be
left
to
a
person's
discretion
whether
he
cares
to
make
this
confession;
and
at
 any
rate,
it
is
a
matter
between
him
and
the
Eternal
Being,
who
is
the
object
of
his
faith,
 whether
 an
 amicable
 adjustment
 can
be
 affected.
But
what
 every
person
 can
do
 is
 to
 make
 the
movement
 of
 absolute
 resignation,
 and
 I
 for
my
 part
would
 not
 hesitate
 to
 declare
him
a
coward
who
imagines
he
cannot
perform
it.
 It
 is
a
different
matter
with
 faith.
But
what
no
person
has
a
right
to,
 is
to
delude
others
into
the
belief
that
faith
is
 something
of
no
great
significance,
or
that
it
is
an
easy
matter,
whereas
it
is
the
greatest
 and
most
difficult
of
all
things.
 But
the
story
of
Abraham
is
generally
interpreted
in
a
different
way.
God's
mercy
 is
praised
which
restored
Isaac
to
him—it
was
but
a
trial!
A
trial.
This
word
may
mean
 much
 or
 little,
 and
 yet
 the
whole
 of
 it
 passes
 off
 as
 quickly
 as
 the
 story
 is
 told:
 one
 mounts
a
winged
horse,
 in
 the
same
 instant
one
arrives
on
Mount
Moriah,
and
presto
 one
sees
the
ram.
It
is
not
remembered
that
Abraham
only
rode
on
an
ass
which
travels
 but
 slowly,
 that
 it
 was
 a
 three
 days'
 journey
 for
 him,
 and
 that
 he
 required
 some
 additional
time
to
collect
the
firewood,
to
bind
Isaac,
and
to
whet
his
knife.
 And
 yet
 one
 extols
 Abraham.
 He
 who
 is
 to
 preach
 the
 sermon
 may
 sleep
 comfortably
until
 a
quarter
of
 an
hour
before
he
 is
 to
preach
 it,
 and
 the
 listener
may
 comfortably
 sleep
 during
 the
 sermon,
 for
 everything
 is
 made
 easy
 enough,
 without
 much
exertion
either
to
preacher
or
listener.
But
now
suppose
a
man
was
present
who
 suffered
with
 sleeplessness
 and
who
went
 home
 and
 sat
 in
 a
 corner
 and
 reflected
 as
 follows:
"The
whole
lasted
but
a
minute,
you
need
only
wait
a
little
while,
and
then
the
 ram
will
be
shown
and
the
 trial
will
be
over."
Now
if
 the
preacher
should
 find
him
 in
 this
 frame
of
mind,
 I
believe
he
would
 confront
him
 in
all
his
dignity
and
 say
 to
him:
 "Wretch
that
thou
art,
to
let
thy
soul
lapse
into
such
folly;
miracles
do
not
happen,
all
life
 is
a
trial."
And
as
he
proceeded
he
would
grow
more
and
more
passionate,
and
would
 become
 ever
 more
 satisfied
 with
 himself;
 and
 whereas
 he
 had
 not
 noticed
 any
 congestion
in
his
head
whilst
preaching
about
Abraham,
he
now
feels
the
veins
on
his
 forehead
swell.
Yet
who
knows
but
he
would
stand
aghast
if
the
sinner
should
answer
 him
in
a
quiet
and
dignified
manner
that
it
was
precisely
this
about
which
he
preached
 the
Sunday
before.
 




Let
us
then
either
waive
the
whole
story
of
Abraharn,
or
else
learn
to
stand
in
 awe
of
the
enormous
paradox
which
constitutes
his
significance
for
us,
so
that
we
may
 learn
to
understand
that
our
age,
like
every
age,
may
rejoice
if
it
has
faith.
If
the
story
of
 Abraham
is
not
a
mere
nothing,
an
illusion,
or
if
it
is
just
used
for
show
and
as
a
pastime,
 the
mistake
 cannot
 by
 any
means
 be
 in
 the
 sinner's
wishing
 to
 do
 likewise;
 but
 it
 is
 necessary
to
find
out
how
great
was
the
deed
which
Abraham
performed,
in
order
that
 the
 man
 may
 judge
 for
 himself
 whether
 he
 has
 the
 courage
 and
 the
 mission
 to
 do
 likewise.
The
comical
contradiction
in
the
procedure
of
the
preacher
was
his
reduction
 of
the
story
of
Abraham
to
insignificance
whereas
he
rebuked
the
other
man
for
doing
 the
very
same
thing.
 




But
should
we
then
cease
to
speak
about
Abraham?
I
certainly
think
not.
But
if
 I
were
to
speak
about
him
I
would
first
of
all
describe
the
terrors
of
his
trial.
To
that
end
 leechlike
 I
would
 suck
 all
 the
 suffering
 and
distress
 out
 of
 the
 anguish
 of
 a
 father,
 in
 order
 to
 be
 able
 to
 describe
what
Abraham
 suffered
whilst
 yet
 preserving
 his
 faith.
 I
 would
 remind
 the
hearer
 that
 the
 journey
 lasted
 three
days
 and
 a
 goodly
 part
 of
 the
 fourth—in
fact,
these
three
and
half
days
ought
to
become
infinitely
longer
than
the
few
 thousand
years
which
separate
me
from
Abraham.
I
would

remind
him,
as
I
think
right,
 that
 every
 person
 is
 still
 permitted
 to
 turn
 about
 before
 trying
 his
 strength
 on
 this
 formidable
task;
in
fact,
that
he
may
return
every
instant
in
repentence.
Provided
this
is
 done,
I
fear
for
nothing.
Nor
do
I
fear
to
awaken
great
desire
among
people
to
attempt
 to
emulate
Abraham.
But
to
get
out
a
cheap
edition
of
Abraham
and
yet
forbid
every
one
 to
do
as
he
did,
that
I
call
ridiculous.