10 Sep 2026 Rosh Hashanah 5787: A Pivotal Moment

On the second day of Rosh Hashanah, we read the story of the Akeidah (Bereishis 22) – one of the most powerful and challenging episodes in the Torah. Hashem commanded Avraham to take his beloved son Yitzchak and bring him as an olah (offering).

As Avraham and Yitzchak walk together toward Har HaMoriah, the Torah records the only conversation between them that appears in the entire Torah:

וַיֹּאמֶר יִצְחָק אֶל־אַבְרָהָם אָבִיו וַיֹּאמֶר אָבִי וַיֹּאמֶר הִנֶּנִּי בְנִי וַיֹּאמֶר הִנֵּה הָאֵשׁ וְהָעֵצִים וְאַיֵּה הַשֶּׂה לְעֹלָה׃
וַיֹּאמֶר אַבְרָהָם אֱלֹקִים יִרְאֶה לּוֹ הַשֶּׂה לְעֹלָה בְּנִי וַיֵּלְכוּ שְׁנֵיהֶם יַחְדָּו׃

“Yitzchak said to Avraham his father, and he said, ‘My father.’ And he said, ‘Here I am, my son.’ And he said, ‘Here are the fire and the wood, but where is the sheep for the offering?’ And Avraham said, ‘G-d will see to the sheep for the offering, my son.’ And the two of them walked together” (Bereishis 22:7-8).

The fact that this is the only recorded conversation between Avraham and Yitzchak is astonishing. Avraham and Yitzchak lived together for many years. There must have been countless conversations between father and son. Yet the one conversation the Torah preserves for posterity takes place on the way to the Akeidah.

There is so much we can learn from this about the relationship between a parent and child, a teacher and student, and ultimately, between individuals who are trying to truly listen to one another.

Yitzchak begins by asking a question. “My father?” Avraham responds: הִנֶּנִּי בְנִי – “Here I am, my son.” Only then does Yitzchak ask: “Where is the sheep for the offering?”

Yitzchak understood that something was missing. He saw the fire and the knife, while he himself was carrying the wood. But there was no sheep.

Yitzchak has been raised in a home dedicated to serving Hashem. The lessons of his father have been transmitted to him. Yitzchak knows that an offering requires a seh (sheep), and he knows that something does not seem to make sense.

Mesorah is not simply transmitting information from one generation to the next. It is creating a relationship in which a child knows where to turn when he has a question.

Yitzchak turns to his father. And Avraham answers him. Yet before answering Yitzchak’s question, Avraham says something that deserves our attention “Here I am, my son.”

Avraham has just been commanded by Hashem to perform an unfathomable task. He is carrying the fire and the knife. Yitzchak is carrying the wood. Avraham knows where this journey is leading.

And yet when his son calls, Avraham is present.

Perhaps this is one of the most important responsibilities of a parent: to be there, to be present, for the child. “Being there” does not mean that we always know what to say. It does not mean that we can solve every problem. It means that our child knows: I can come to you.

And this applies equally to teachers. A student may come with a question for which the teacher does not have an immediate answer. But sometimes the most important thing we can give someone else is not an answer – it is our attention.

Yitzchak asks a direct question: וְאַיֵּה הַשֶּׂה לְעֹלָה?, “Where is the sheep for the offering?” Avraham answers: אֱלֹקִים יִרְאֶה לּוֹ הַשֶּׂה לְעֹלָה בְּנִי – “G-d will see to the sheep for the offering, my son.” Avraham does not give Yitzchak a complete explanation of what is about to happen.

Perhaps there is an important lesson here as well. Parents and teachers sometimes feel that they need to have all the answers. When a child or student asks a difficult question, we may feel pressure to immediately provide a solution.

But we ourselves do not always have all the answers. We too are only human.

And no mortal has all the answers.

Sometimes the most honest response is: “I don’t know.” Sometimes it is: “Let’s think about this together.” And sometimes, as Avraham teaches us, we can answer with what we do know – even when we cannot explain everything.

אֱלֹקִים יִרְאֶה – Hashem will provide. Hashem knows what we do not know.

A child does not need a parent who has every answer. A child needs a parent who will listen to the question. A student does not need a teacher who pretends to know everything. A student needs a teacher who takes the question seriously.

When we listen, we communicate that your thoughts matter. Your questions matter. You matter.

The conversation between father and son, en route to the Akeidah, ends with one of the most poignant phrases in the entire story: וַיֵּלְכוּ שְׁנֵיהֶם יַחְדָּו – “And the two of them walked together.”

As parents, we cannot walk every step of our children’s lives for them. We cannot protect them from every difficulty or resolve every question they will have. But we can make sure they know that they do not walk alone.

As teachers, we cannot give our students every answer they will need throughout their lives. But we can teach them how to ask questions, how to listen, how to search, and how to continue walking.

Perhaps this is one reason this story is read on Rosh Hashanah. Rosh Hashanah is a day of Mesorah. We stand before Hashem as the descendants of our Avos, carrying the faith and values that were transmitted through the generations.

Yet, Mesorah is not only about what we receive. It is also about what we transmit.

What will our children remember from us? Will they remember that we were there when they called? That we listened to their questions? That we took their thoughts seriously? That we walked with them, even when we did not have all the answers?

And perhaps, on Rosh Hashanah, we should ask ourselves: Are we listening to our children and students, to our spouses, to our friends and the people around us?

Sometimes we are so busy preparing our response that we never truly hear what the other person is saying.

The first words of this remarkable conversation are “My father.” And Avraham’s response is: “Here I am.”

Before the question is answered, there is a moment of connection. A father hears. The son knows that his father is listening. And the two of them continue together.

May we enter this new year with the ability to listen more deeply, to be more present for the people entrusted to us, and to strengthen the Mesorah we have received by transmitting it with love, patience, and connection.

And may Hashem hear our tefillos on this Rosh Hashanah, answer the questions and prayers that we bring before Him, and bless all of Am Yisrael with a year of brachos, yeshuos, simchos, good health of body, mind and soul, peace, and revealed blessings.

בברכת בשורות טובות ושנה טובה ומתוקה,

Michal