In Torah, few words stand out more than Hineni – a word with no equivalent in English. It expresses a pivotal “here I am” full-self presence we rarely access in daily life. This week’s parasha, Vayeira – which we read in a current context of overwhelming turbulence, accumulating traumas, and communal needs vying for our attention – features the word Hineni three distinct times. Each instance offers us a way that we may use Hineni as a call back to deeper presence, when we find ourselves untethered: awe, love and grief.
When Abraham first says Hineni, here I am, it is in response to an unexpected Divine meeting in the midst of a peaceful moment minding his flock. He feels God’s voice as a force beyond himself, and a call to a challenge he didn’t know he was ready for. Hineni wakes him to a new sacred purpose. This is the Hineni of Awe – the Hineni we access in nature, in song, in prayer, in any space we can hear a source beyond ourselves aligning us with a purpose we know instinctively to be right, no matter how overwhelming or distracting the current moment.
The second time we hear Hineni, it is a call of devoted love between a parent and child. In the ominous silence that envelops their climb to the mountaintop, Isaac calls out, “Father?” Abraham responds. “Hineni b’ni – I am here, my son. With you.” Abraham assures his son that no matter what lies ahead, Isaac will not have to go it alone. Perhaps this Hineni is most familiar to us. It is the relational impulse to help our children feel safe being Jewish in school, to let our friends know they are supported, and to show up for community on Shabbat in trying times, as well as joyful ones.
The bravest thing we can say to each other now is Hineni – you’re not alone. Even when I cannot tell you exactly how it’s going to get better, we can walk the uncertain path forward together, we can stay connected through any means possible.
The third time we hear Hineni in the Akeda, Abraham is in a tumultuous place. Specifically, he is at knifepoint, inches away from fulfilling the sacrificial mission God has placed before him. An angel’s voice calls to him twice by name, “Abraham! Abraham!” Again, he responds, “Hineni – I am here,” from a place of deep internal struggle. He is trying to be dedicated to the task asked of him, but he is overwhelmed with conflicting emotions as he contemplates sacrificing his son.
The sages say Abraham is called twice by name in this moment so that God is sure he hears, beneath the clamor of struggle, the chesed, the loving-kindness that is his true nature. God sees that in grief and compassion, Abraham’s heart is broken open, and he can choose another way to express his devotion that does not cause pain or suffering to another.
Awe, love and grief. May we remain open to these experiences that allow us, as they allowed Abraham, to access a depth of presence that will guide us forward in sacred connection and repair.