Walking Together
Family Edition

The Summary

This is an abridged version of the essay Walking Together written by Rabbi Sacks in 2011.

One image from the Torah is fraught with emotion, and still haunts us across the millennia. It is the image of a man and his son walking side-by-side across a lonely landscape of valleys and barren hills. The son has no idea where he is going or why. The man, in contrast, is full of emotion. He knows exactly where he is going and why, but he can’t make sense of it at all. His name is Avraham.

God miraculously gave him a son, and promised this would lead to a great nation. Now God has told him to sacrifice this son. On the one hand, the man is full of fear: am I going to lose the son for whom I prayed all these years? Another voice within him is saying: this child was impossible – I was old, my wife was too old – yet here he is. So it seems impossible, but I have faith that God is not going to take him from me. He would never have told me to call this child Yitzchak, meaning “he will laugh” if He meant to make us cry.

Avraham is in a state of absolute turbulence. He can make no sense of the task, yet he trusts in God and betrays to his son no sign of emotion. Vayelchu shenehem yachdav. The two of them walked together.

As if to emphasise the trust between father and son, and between both and God, the text repeats the phrase: Vayelchu shenehem yachdav. The two of them walked together.

Nowhere do we see more clearly the gap between Jewish and secular values today than in the modern day. We live in a secular world that has accumulated more knowledge than all previous generations combined, from the vast cosmos to the structure of DNA, from superstring theory to the neural pathways of the brain. Yet it has forgotten the simple truth that a civilisation is as strong as the love and respect between parent and child – Vayelchu shenehem yachdav, the ability of the generations to walk together.

Jews are a formidably intellectual people too. We have our Nobel prize-winning physicists, chemists, medical scientists and games theorists. Yet as long as there is a living connection between Jews and our heritage, we will never forget that there is nothing more important than home, the sacred bond of marriage, and the equally sacred bond between parent and child. Vayelchu shenehem yachdav.

And if we ask ourselves why it is that Jews so often succeed, and succeeding, so often give to others of their money and time, and so often make an impact beyond their numbers: there is no magic, no mystery, no miracle. It is simply that we devote our most precious energies to bringing up our children. Never more so than on Shabbat when we cannot buy our children expensive clothes or electronic gadgets, when we can only give them what they most want and need: our time.

Jews knew and know and will always know what today’s chattering classes are in denial about, namely that a civilisation is as strong as the bond between the generations. That is the enduring image of this week’s Parsha: the first Jewish parent, Avraham, and the first Jewish child, Yitzchak, walking together toward an unknown future, their fears stilled by their faith. Lose the family and we will eventually lose all else. Sanctify the family and we will have something more precious than wealth or power or success: the love between the generations that is the greatest gift God gives us when we give it to one another.

Around the Shabbat Table

Questions to Ponder

1. What does “walking together” mean to you, and why do you think it’s important in families?
2. Can you think of other parent-child relationships like Avraham and Yitzchak?
3. Rabbi Sacks believes that a civilisation depends on strong families. Can you present this argument and explain why?  

On the Parsha

Written by Sara Lamm

Inspired by the Teachings of Rabbi Lord Jonathan Sacks

The Parsha in a Nutshell

At the beginning of Vayera, Avraham is now 99 years old, and Sarah is 89. Avraham eagerly hosts three guests, who are angels in disguise, although it is just three days since his brit milah. They reveal that Sarah will give birth to a son within a year, and she laughs in disbelief.

Avraham pleads with God to spare Sodom, but the city is destroyed and only Lot and his family are rescued. Lot’s wife looks back at Sodom, and turns into a pillar of salt.

Avraham and Sarah’s son, Yitzchak, is born, and given a brit after eight days. He grows up, and there is tension in the family. Sarah thinks Yishmael (Hagar's son with Avraham) should be sent away with his mother, and God tells Avraham to listen to Sarah. Later, God tests Avraham, commanding him to sacrifice Yitzchak. Avraham prepares to obey, but an angel stops him just in time, and a ram is sacrificed instead.

Philosophy of Rabbi Sacks

Delving Deeper

The strength of a civilisationdepends on the bond between generations - parents and children walking together through life, united by shared values and love. The story of Avraham and Yitzchak walking side-by-side, trusting each other and God, despite the uncertainty ahead, is the most poignant example of this. Rabbi Sacks shares that this sacred connection has been a cornerstone of Jewish life, keeping families strong for thousands of years. 

In today’s world family is often undervalued, which can lead to marriages breaking down and more troubled societies. Without the stability of the family, even the most advanced civilisations risk falling apart. Ultimately, Judaism’s emphasis on Shabbat, where families set aside materialism and spend time together, can create something more precious than success or wealth: an enduring love between the generations. At the end of the day, a nation is only as strong as the families that form it.

What is a value that you hope to pass down to your future children?

Parsha Activity

Dreaming of the Future

Go around the table and offer each person the chance to share something they dream of accomplishing in the future. Other group members can then offer encouragement or ideas for how to make that dream come true. Just as Avraham was there to help shape his son and develop his future, your family can come together to help each member. Then discuss, what do you dream of as a family?

A Story for the Ages

Elie and his Dad

Once there was a man named Elie Wiesel. Elie was born in 1928 and grew up as a normal boy living in Sighet, Romania. Here’s the thing: Elie didn’t always have a great relationship with his father - they often disagreed, and they didn’t find it easy to get along. But all of that was to change. 

When Elie was a teenager, World War II broke out all over Europe, and it was an extremely difficult and dangerous time to be a Jew. Elie and his father were sent away together to a very dark and scary place - a camp where being a Jew was even more challenging. And while they were there, Elie and his father faced some terrible hardships together. They experienced hunger, cold, and cruelty, but through it all they stayed by each other’s side, supporting and caring for one another - no matter what. 

Even when Elie was weak or scared, he never wanted to leave his father alone, and his father did everything he could to protect Elie. One day his father got hurt. Elie wasn’t able to mend his father’s injury, so stayed even closer to his dad, watching over him and keeping him safe while he recovered. 

Their love gave them strength to keep going. Elie often said that his father was his reason for survival - they kept going for each other. Though the war was full of terrible sadness and loss, their connection showed the power of love between a father and son, even in the darkest of times.

In 2017, Elie’s own son, Elisha, wrote, “My father was a builder of bridges across generations. Through his love, reaching both forward and backward through time, I feel connected not only to him but to my grandparents as well... a man who deeply believed in peace, in dialogue, and in the love between fathers and sons.”

On the Haftara

Written by Rabbi Barry Kleinberg

Inspired by the Teachings of Rabbi Lord Jonathan Sacks

HAFTARA SUMMARY

The Haftara in a Nutshell

Kings II (Melachim 2) 4:1-37

In this week’s Haftara, the prophet Elisha performs two miracles of compassion.

First, a widow facing the threat of her children being taken as slaves due to debt seeks Elisha’s help. He instructs her to collect empty jars from her neighbours, and then he and miraculously fills them with oil, enabling her to sell the oil, pay her debts, and live off the remainder. 

In the second story, Elisha blesses a Shunamite woman, who has shown him great hospitality, with the promise of a son. When the child later dies unexpectedly, the woman seeks out Elisha, who travels to her home and miraculously revives the boy through prayer and personal effort, restoring him to life.

Does the Torah often tell stories of miracles performed by individuals? If not, why not? 

Points to Ponder

1. What is the significance of oil in Jewish tradition?
2. How does Elisha’s miraculous action performed with the widow in the story fit in with Rambam’s principles of tzedakah? 
3. Do you know anything else about the prophet Elisha?

Tanach Connections

Parsha and Haftara Links

There are two key connections between this week’s Parsha and the chosen Haftara.  

Firstly, both the Parsha and the Haftara outline a transition from God’s miraculous involvement in the world, to a world where human initiative is more and more evident. All the previous Parshiyot describe the creation, and God’s handiwork. Even Lech Lecha can be included in this, since it recounts the Divine selection of Avraham, and the beginnings of monotheism. Yet, from our Parsha onwards there emerges a discernible element of human partnership. 

Secondly, both of our texts contain a promise of offspring after a prolonged barrenness – to the extent that the promise sounds like a well-intentioned wish by a sympathiser with no chance of ever being fulfilled.  

These women, Sarah and the Shunamite woman, each react to these promises with disbelief. In both instances their reactions demonstrate on the one hand the extent to which the child is longed for, and on the other hand, the extent to which this wish seems far from reality. And yet, both promises are fulfilled.

Putting the Prophets into Context

The Book of Kings

The Book of Kings is written in two parts, called 1 Kings and II Kings in the Hebrew Bible. It chronicles the history of Israel from the final days of King David to the Babylonian exile. It recounts the reigns of Solomon, the division of the kingdom into Israel (north) and Judah (south), and the succession of kings in both realms.

The narrative highlights the spiritual and moral decline of the people and their rulers, emphasising the consequences of abandoning the covenant that Bnei Yisrael made with God. Prophets, especially Elijah and Elisha, play a central role in warning the kings and people to return to God, but their warnings are often ignored. The book culminates in the destruction of the northern kingdom by Assyria and the fall of Judah to Babylon, ending with the exile of the Jewish people. This is a sombre ending to the book of Kings, and it is worth noting that the very idea of a human king ruling over Israel is complicated, and the prophet Samuel strongly protested when the people first asked for a king to be appointed.

As Rabbi Sacks writes, “The ideal society, as the Torah conceives it, is one in which no one rules or exercises power over anyone else, other than God Himself” (On the Limits of Power, Shoftim, Covenant & Conversation 5767).

Quote of the Week

“...a miracle is not necessarily something that suspends natural law. It is, rather, an event for which there may be a natural explanation, but which – happening when, where and how it did – evokes wonder, such that even the most hardened sceptic senses that God has intervened in history.”

Miracles, Beshallach, Covenant & Conversation 5770

Further Ponderings

Have you ever wished for something that seemed out of reach and yet became a reality? Did it feel miraculous?