Holy Ashes That Never Descend

1. Yitzchak, the Unblemished Offering

On the verse “Sojourn in this land,” the Sages teach that Yitzchak was not permitted to leave Eretz Yisrael for abroad, because he was like an unblemished burnt-offering (olah temimah):

“Just as a burnt-offering — should it go out past the hangings [of the courtyard] — becomes disqualified, so too you: should you go beyond the Land, you become disqualified.”

As the commentators explain, all of Eretz Yisrael “is considered, with regards to him {Yitzchak}, like the Temple courtyard [azarah],” while outside the Land is “like being outside the courtyard.” Being an olah temimah — “which is a holy of holies {the highest level of sacrifice}” — he therefore may not leave Eretz Yisrael, just as “a holy of holies may not go beyond the courtyard.”

Why does Yitzchak possess the holiness of an olah temimah in such a way that “should it go out beyond the hangings, it becomes disqualified”? Seemingly this is difficult — for an offering becomes susceptible to disqualification only after it has already been brought upon the mizbeach, whereas a live, unblemished burnt-offering cannot become disqualified merely by departing {its appropriate place}.

This can be resolved based on the words of the Sages on the verse “and he offered it up as a burnt-offering instead of his son”: the offering of the ram was brought in Yitzchak’s stead (“instead of his son”), so that it was as though Yitzchak himself were the sacrifice that was offered. In Rashi’s words:

“…as if my son were slaughtered… his blood sprinkled… my son flayed; as if he were burnt and turned to ash.”

And since it was as though all these sacrificial acts had been performed upon Yitzchak — as though he had been offered upon the mizbeach — he thereby became sanctified with the holiness of an olah temimah, which is disqualified by going out.

But in light of this — that Yitzchak holds the status of a sacrifice already offered upon the mizbeach — a difficulty arises. Concerning the merit of the Akeidah, the Sages state in several places that “the ashes of Yitzchak are as though heaped upon the mizbeach.” From the precise wording of the Sages — “heaped upon the mizbeach,” and not (as Rashi words it elsewhere) “heaped up and ready for atonement” (or the like) — it is evident that the merit of the Akeidah is bound up specifically with the fact that “the ashes of Yitzchak” (“remain”) upon the mizbeach.

[Moreover: the Gemara in Zevachim states, “The mizbeach — how did they know [its location]?” (that is, when building the Second Temple, from where did they know where the mizbeach belonged?) “…They saw that the ashes of Yitzchak were resting in that very place.” From “the ashes of Yitzchak” they knew how to fix the location of the mizbeach.]

This, however, is difficult to understand. The place of the “ash” left over from an offering — whose counterpart in Yitzchak’s case is “the ashes of Yitzchak” (which hold the same status as the “ash” of the ram) — is not “upon the mizbeach,” for the ash must undergo the lifting of the ash (terumas hadeshen) and the removal of the ash (hotzaas hadeshen). {These two processes are done with the ashes on the mizbeach} How, then, can one say that the ashes of Yitzchak are “heaped (and resting) upon the mizbeach”?

2. No Ash to Carry Away

The simple explanation (on the level of the nigleh, the revealed part of the Torah) is that, when the ram was offered, the procedures of terumas hadeshen and hotzaas hadeshen did not take place.

Terumas hadeshen did not apply, for it is done by “placing it beside the mizbeach,” and at the Akeidah — which had the legal status of a bamah ketanah {a minor, private altar} — there was no “beside the mizbeach” to speak of: whatever is not upon the mizbeach itself falls into the category of “outside.”

So too, the reason for hotzaas hadeshen is (as Rashi explains) that “there is no room for the arrangement [of the wood]” — if the ash is not taken down from the mizbeach, there will be no room for the coming arrangement of wood {and the subsequent korbanos}. But with the mizbeach that Avraham built for Yitzchak’s Akeidah, this reason obviously does not apply.

[One may suggest that, since there was no obligation to remove the ashes from the mizbeach, it stands to reason that they remained — for the law is, after all, “whatever touches the mizbeach becomes holy,” and “even a disqualified offering that has gone up upon it… does not come down.” Consequently, when there is no obligation (or reason) to take the ash down, it “does not come down.” (See below.)]

Accordingly, “the ashes of Yitzchak” too — paralleling the “ash” of the ram — are “heaped upon the mizbeach.”

However, a further explanation is still needed. The above accounts only for why “the ashes of Yitzchak” can remain, and did remain, “heaped upon the mizbeach.” But from the fact that the Sages link the merit of Yitzchak specifically to “his ashes… heaped upon the mizbeach,” it is implied that this is connected to the merit of the Akeidah itself.

One must therefore say that, although the “ash” of a burnt-offering must generally be taken down from the mizbeach (even though a burnt-offering is wholly consumed for G‑d), Yitzchak’s “burnt-offering holiness” — attained through the Akeidah — is of such a nature that his “ashes” remain “heaped (and resting) upon the mizbeach.”

3. A Mitzvah Renewed Every Moment

The following may be proposed, by way of introduction:

(a) It is generally evident — including from practical halachah — that when a thing becomes ash, it no longer retains its former existence. For example, with burning chametz, according to the view that chametz may be destroyed only by burning: even though ash remains after the burning, that ash is a new entity.

(b) The effect (the divine pleasure) of a burnt-offering — whose offering is completed with its burning upon the mizbeach — comes about through its being a pleasing aroma, as the verse states, “And the L‑rd smelled the aroma…” That is, while it is being burned and is progressively turning to ash — but not afterward.

In light of this, it is difficult to see why the merit of the Akeidah — which “endures for all generations” — should be expressed specifically through the term “the ashes of Yitzchak.” “Ash” stresses the very opposite: that the Akeidah (and the act of offering) is no longer present!

It therefore seems that we may explain as follows — again, by way of an introduction. There are several ways in which the merit and effect of a mitzvah continue to act at a later time:

1. A merit that was accomplished and completed in the past. The performance of the mitzvah produces a merit that remains with the person ever after (permanently), but the cause of that merit is entirely in the past.
2. The performance of the mitzvah (and its merit) was in the past, yet the effect of the mitzvah is something ongoing — and consequently so is its merit. It extends into the later time, including the very moment when one needs that merit.
3. The earlier performance continually keeps being renewed thereafter, such that it is exactly as though the mitzvah were being performed now.

With this we can understand what is said regarding King David:

“When David entered the bathhouse and saw himself standing naked, he said, ‘Woe is me, for I stand naked without a mitzvah!’ But when he recalled the circumcision in his flesh, his mind was set at ease…”

Seemingly this is difficult: surely the “subjugation of the heart and mind” produced by his earlier donning of tefillin (and the like) was evident in David’s heart and mind — so why did he see himself as “naked, without a mitzvah”?

The explanation is as follows. The subjugation of the heart and mind is an ongoing effect of his earlier donning of tefillin, but the performance of the mitzvah itself he does not possess now {the second manner}. The mitzvah of milah {circumcision}, by contrast, is renewed every moment, so that it is as though he had just now been circumcised {the third manner}.

And this, too, is what is novel about the Akeidah: the merit of the Akeidah is of such a nature that it is as though Yitzchak is now — at every moment — being burned anew upon the mizbeach. Consequently, “the ashes of Yitzchak … are heaped upon the mizbeach” — he is being burned now upon the mizbeach, and is now a “pleasing aroma.”

4. The Everyday Made Holy

In terms of man’s divine service, the following may be explained.

The concept of the “ash” in man’s service is this. Ash, considered in itself — not in terms of the cause and circumstances that turned it into ash — represents the ultimate degree of materiality. As the Alter Rebbe explains in Tanya, the ash left from a piece of “burned wood” is its element of earth:

“…the earth within it, which descends downward and over which the fire has no presence… earth is the most material of all [the other elements].”

This is the meaning of the ash of the mizbeach. The portion of the offering that is burned upon the mizbeach alludes to the refined parts of the world — those that can be wholly elevated and absorbed into holiness. Broadly, these are the worldly things with which one performs a mitzvah: articles used for a mitzvah, sacred items, and the like.

But the ash that remains from the offering alludes to the lower items of the world — those that cannot be absorbed into the fire of the mizbeach (cannot become entirely holy). Generally, these are the permissible matters with which a Jew occupies himself.

The ash, therefore, cannot remain upon the mizbeach — the ultimate degree of holiness.

Within this itself there are two levels:

1. The “ash” with which terumas hadeshen is performed — where the ash at least remains “beside the mizbeach.”
2. The ash that is taken “outside the camp.”

This, it may be suggested, is the distinction between the two methods of divine service — “all your deeds should be for the sake of Heaven” and “in all your ways know Him.”

“All your deeds should be for the sake of Heaven” means that, as a person performs the deeds, they are — for him — in the category of “your deeds,” permissible matters; it is only that he does them “for the sake of Heaven,” for the sake of holiness, so that afterward he will derive from them a benefit in heavenly matters.

This is alluded to in the ash taken “outside the camp”: it is not within the camp of holiness, yet there it is brought “(to) a clean place” — he performs the permissible matters for the sake of Heaven, for the sake of holiness.

A higher mode of service — with permissible matters — is “in all your ways know Him.” Not that through doing them he will afterward arrive at “knowing Him,” but that within them themselves (“in all your ways”) there is “know Him.” They are indeed “your ways” — permissible matters — and yet the permissible matters themselves become a matter of holiness.

This is like terumas hadeshen, which cannot remain upon the mizbeach itself (it is “your ways”), but — “and he shall place it beside the mizbeach” — remains adjacent to the mizbeach and is absorbed in its place.

5. Self-Sacrifice to the Core

In light of this, we can understand why “the ashes of Yitzchak are as though heaped upon the mizbeach.”

What the Akeidah of Yitzchak accomplished was actual self-sacrifice (mesirus nefesh) — the literal giving-over of the body. When Avraham was cast into the fiery furnace (in Ur Kasdim), this element was not present in actuality, for the fire did not touch him at all. With Yitzchak, by contrast, at the moment of the Akeidah “the soul of Yitzchak arose and departed,” and afterward he was restored to life.

This level of mesirus nefesh draws from the very essence of the soul itself, which is uniquely bound with G‑dliness in the most absolute union — to the point that it takes hold of all parts of the person equally, including even the materiality of the body. It therefore comes to expression in the giving-over of the body, too, for G‑d.

Therefore, through the Akeidah, Yitzchak was sanctified in such a way that (also) his body became entirely holy. Consequently, even Yitzchak’s physical qualities were elevated to the level of an olah, wholly offered to G‑d: his material concerns were so nullified and unified with holiness that he utterly “did not feel” their “physicality” — their whole concern was nothing but the service of G‑d.

6. Grain Sown for Heaven

As discussed at length on a previous occasion, concerning what Pirkei d’Rabbi Eliezer states on the verse “And Yitzchak sowed”:

“Did Yitzchak actually sow grain? Heaven forbid! Rather, he took the entire tithe of his wealth and sowed tzedakah for the poor — as the verse states, ‘Sow for yourselves according to tzedakah.’”

Since a verse never {fully} departs from its simple meaning, Yitzchak did literally sow grain, and this grain was part of the wealth from which he separated tithe, and so on. Yet it would be wrong — Heaven forbid — to say that his “sowing” was, in its essence, an act of sowing grain; rather, his “sowing of grain” was, in essence — “Sow for yourselves according to tzedakah.”

A note to point out, according to another teaching of the Sages: Yitzchak instituted the practice of tithing, and since tithe is taken specifically from one’s own produce, it was for this reason — and only for this reason — that he sowed grain: in order to separate his tithe.

It may be said that these amount to the same thing: the root of the mitzvos of maaser and similar is tzedakah.

7. Nothing Left Outside

And this is why “the ashes of Yitzchak … are heaped upon the mizbeach.” Through the Akeidah, Yitzchak was sanctified to such a degree that no room was left for the secular — which belongs “outside.” Even “his ashes” (his physical matters) are “heaped upon the mizbeach,” entirely — wholly offered to G‑d.

This is also why the merit of the Akeidah is expressed specifically through the term and concept of “ash.” The merit of the Akeidah lies in the character of Yitzchak’s self-sacrifice — and the loftiness of his mesirus nefesh is found precisely in the achievement of “his ashes … heaped upon the mizbeach,” as explained above.

8. Carrying the Mizbeach Into the World

The lesson from all this, in the divine service of each and every person:

One of the reasons we recite Parshas HaAkeidah every day is “in order to subdue one’s evil inclination, to serve G‑d just as Yitzchak gave over his soul.” One must know that this subjugation has to lead to a result: that the “ash” (the physicality) of a Jew should be “heaped upon the mizbeach.”

This concept is as follows:

The prayers were instituted to correspond to the daily offerings, and the daily tamid-offering is an olah, wholly offered to G‑d — for the perfection of prayer is that a Jew give himself over entirely to the One Above.

But the self-nullification and self-sacrifice of prayer “make room” for the Jew, after prayer, to go out “outside the camp” and occupy himself with physical matters. True, the service of prayer accomplishes that this engagement be only “[to] a clean place” — “all your deeds for the sake of Heaven” — but it is nevertheless still “outside the camp.”

To this comes a caveat. The reason for hotzaas hadeshen is that “there is no room for the arrangement”; but where there is “room for the arrangement,” one does not take the ash down. So too, the “license” to occupy oneself with physical things (in the manner of “outside the camp”) holds only when a benefit for the coming arrangement comes of it — through this, one will be able to pray even better the next day.

A Jew’s place must be — and in truth is — “within.” Granted, he is a soul within a body and has physical needs, so it suffices that his engagement with the physical be “beside the mizbeach”; but to go out “outside the camp” — that is not a Jew’s true place. Even when he does his permissible matters for the sake of Heaven, it is a lesser form of service: he is not “pouring a cup for his master” but {is instead performing the lower service of} “cooking a pot for his master,” and must change his “garments” (the garments soiled in this “cooking” being his action, speech, and thought).

This is why we place the recitation of Parshas HaAkeidah before all the day’s affairs: for in order to truly take this in, the mesirus nefesh of Yitzchak is summoned. The mesirus nefesh at the time of prayer must be of a kind that “takes along” his body and all his physical concerns, until he feels that for him there is no “outside the camp” at all, and his physicality is wholly permeated with holiness.

And then — even when he goes out (after prayer) “outside the camp” to occupy himself with worldly matters, “conducting himself in their regard in the way of the world” — he feels that his being “outside the camp” is only external; in his inner self, and especially from the standpoint of his soul, the aspect of Yitzchak within him, he too has “his ashes… heaped upon the mizbeach.”

And by virtue of this, his involvement with physical matters is such that his entire intention in it is solely for the sake of the benefit that will come of it in his service of G‑d — in the place of the arrangement, upon the mizbeach.

From a Sichah delivered on Shabbos Behar-Bechukosai, 5728 [1968]