Rosh Hashana: Lessons from Hagar

On most Jewish holidays, the Torah portion that is read is the section of the Torah that commands the celebration of the holiday or provides details of its observance. On Rosh Hashana, however, we read the Torah portion that culminates in the Akeidah, the near sacrifice of Yitzchak. The reasoning for this Torah reading seems obvious – the horn of the ram that was offered up on lieu of Yitzchak is the proto-shofar. Even more interesting than the fact that a narrative from Bereishis is the Torah portion rather than a more rule focused text is the fact that the parsha is divided between the two days of the chag and we only actually read about the Akeidah on the second day of Rosh Hashana. The Torah reading of the first day begins with the birth of Yitzchak, but a large portion of the text relays the story of the banishment of Hagar and Yishmael. When considering the weight of the day, it seems odd that this is what we are reading about.

I’ve thought a lot about Hagar. She is a fascinating personality in the Torah. In many ways, she is the quintessential other. She isn’t an evil enemy out to destroy the Jewish people. She isn’t a greedy oppressor. She might have continued to worship avodah zara, but it isn’t a distinguishing feature of her persona, even in the midrashim. She does not fit into the world Avraham and Sarah are trying to build, a world where there can be a true relationship with Hashem, but it is not from a lack of wanting.

Perhaps the most important action in Hagar’s story in the context of Rosh Hashana is the description of Hagar crying out to Hashem… and Hashem responding. The Torah shows us someone who is clearly not a tzadekes, someone who is not focused on kedusha or chesed, that is able to turn to Hashem in a moment of pain and connect.

Hagar is one of the most complex characters in the Torah. Don’t laugh…think about it. According to the Midrash, she was a princess who joined Avraham and Sarah in Egypt as a handmaid because she saw how significant they were spiritually; she wanted to be part of their mission, but she could never escape her background. She couldn’t break free of who she was and what she knew – but, at least from how I understand it, she really did try. She wanted to be the one to give Avraham an heir, but her pettiness tainted her and brought her low. She loved, she hated, she desired, she admired…

It seems to me that it would not be such a stretch to say that when Hagar wept for her dying child, she was really weeping for herself. She was weeping for everything that she had thrown away – not lost but thrown away. She had come to Avraham and Sarah’s tents with so much potential, so much intention… and all the little dramas of life had cast her off her path. And when she cried over this loss of direction, Hashem spoke to her and told her that He had heard her child’s cry and that that child would be made into a great nation.

Rosh Hashana is the new year for all people, and so it is appropriate that we are reminded that all people are btzelem Elokim and that we have the ability to learn and to grow from all people. Reading the narrative of Hagar’s banishment isn’t just a necessary interlude to get to the Akeidah, rather it is a powerful lesson unto itself. Hagar’s tears at how far she has fallen from the path she sought can remind us of how painful it is to go off track, of how we have the opportunity to readjust. More importantly, Hagar’s tears remind us that if we feel we cannot do it alone, we should turn to Hashem; we should cry out. Our tears are never in vain for all of us have toldos – that which comes after us. In Hagar’s case, it was the promise of the good to come in her future generations (the more literal translation of toldos). For many of us, it might be the blessing Hashem intends to extend to our future actions, to the potential for good that can follow even after we feel we have missed our mark.

I would like to take this opportunity to wish you all a ksiva v’chasima tova and that the year ahead should be one in which we all have clarity and bitachon, and we reach our potential, and the world is full of simcha and bracha.