Faith That Walks Forward: The Meaning of True Self Sacrifice

“And the children of Israel came into the sea on dry land.” (Shemot 14:22)

The Sages teach that the Israelites were afraid to enter the water until Nachshon ben Aminadav leapt forward and went in first. Only afterward did the rest of Israel follow. They add that when Nachshon entered the sea, it did not split immediately. He continued walking until the water reached his throat, and only then did he cry out, “Save me, O God, for the waters have reached my soul” (Tehillim 69:2), at which point the sea split.

The self sacrifice of Nachshon was extraordinary.

When Speed Is Not the Highest Form of Devotion

Rabbi Eliyahu Lopian cites a profound teaching in the name of the Alter of Kelm.

All of Avraham’s actions are described in the Torah as being done with speed and eagerness. When he saw the angels, “he ran to greet them from the entrance of the tent.” He hurried to Sarah and said, “Quickly prepare three measures of fine flour.” He himself ran to the cattle, took a tender calf, and hurried to prepare it.

Even when God commanded Avraham to bind Yitzchak, Avraham rose early in the morning to fulfill the command, as the Torah says, “And Avraham rose early in the morning.” He even saddled his own donkey, without delegating the task to a servant, as Rashi explains, “Love disrupts the usual order.”

Yet there is one striking omission. The Torah does not say that Avraham ran or hurried to the place of the binding. Instead it says, “And he arose and went to the place that God had told him.” It says “went” deliberately.

The same wording appears when Avraham speaks to his servants: “Stay here with the donkey, and I and the lad will go until there,” and again, “And the two of them went together.”

Why does the Torah not say that Avraham hurried or ran to the place God had designated?

The Power of Measured Commitment

The Alter of Kelm explains that when a person is called upon to perform an act of sanctifying God’s name, an act that requires true self sacrifice, sometimes speed is essential, but sometimes speed actually weakens the act. In those moments, what is required is calm deliberation and steady resolve.

When Avraham is commanded to bind his son, he hurries to begin the mitzvah. He rises early and prepares everything himself. But once he begins the journey to the place God designated, the greatness of the act is intensified by walking deliberately.

It is easier to rush and finish quickly than to walk slowly, contemplating again and again the divine command and its meaning. Slowness invites the inner struggle. It invites the inclination that argues, that tries to reinterpret the command, that raises doubts about whether this is truly God’s will.

Only yesterday, Avraham had been told, “Through Yitzchak shall your offspring be called.” This act seems to contradict everything Avraham believed about rejecting idolatry and child sacrifice and serving a compassionate and merciful God.

To walk calmly, to think deeply about the act, and yet to continue without a trace of doubt, is the highest level of self sacrifice.

From Avraham’s conduct, the Torah teaches us that there are mitzvot that must be done with speed, and there are mitzvot that demand measured thought and inner resolve. Avraham’s deliberate pace elevated the binding of Yitzchak to eternal greatness, and generations continue to benefit from its merit.

Nachum Ish Gamzu and the Cost of Delay

The Talmud relates the well known story of Nachum Ish Gamzu: He was blind in both eyes, had lost both hands and both legs, and his entire body was covered in sores. He lay in a dilapidated house, with the legs of his bed placed in bowls of water so that ants would not crawl onto him.

Once his students wanted to remove his bed and then the household items. He told them, “My children, remove the items first and then my bed, for I assure you that as long as I am inside, the house will not collapse.” They removed the items and then his bed, and immediately the house collapsed.

His students asked him, “Rabbi, since you are such a righteous person, why has this happened to you?”

He replied, “My children, I brought this upon myself. Once I was traveling to my father in law’s house with a load carried by three donkeys, one with food, one with drink, and one with delicacies. A poor man came and stood in my path and said, ‘Rabbi, sustain me.’ I said to him, ‘Wait until I unload the donkey.’ I did not manage to unload it before his soul departed.

“I fell on my face and said: My eyes that did not have compassion on your eyes shall become blind. My hands that did not have compassion on your hands shall be severed. My legs that did not have compassion on your legs shall be cut off. And I was not comforted until I said: Let my entire body be covered in sores.”

They said to him, “Woe to us that we see you in this state.”

He replied, “Woe to me if you did not see me this way.”

Anticipating the Mitzvah

The Alter of Kelm asks a sharp question. What was Nachum Ish Gamzu expected to do? The food was tied to the donkey. Without question, he hurried as much as possible to unload it and bring food to the poor man. He did not stop to rest. What claim could there be against him? Why did he accept such a severe punishment upon himself?

The answer is that Nachum Ish Gamzu felt that he lacked full self sacrifice in fulfilling the mitzvah. One who lives with true self sacrifice holds a knife and cuts the ropes instead of carefully untying them, even if he is untying them as quickly as possible.

One who lives with true self sacrifice keeps a piece of bread in his pocket, so that if a hungry poor person appears, he can give it immediately, without needing to unload a burden. One who lives with true self sacrifice anticipates situations in advance and prepares for them ahead of time.

Self sacrifice demands forethought.

Precision With the Righteous

God is exacting with the righteous, as the verse says, “And around Him it storms exceedingly.” The Sages explain that God scrutinizes those close to Him with hair thin precision.

Nachum Ish Gamzu was judged for this subtle deficiency, even though it was an extraordinarily rare circumstance.

From Nachshon at the sea, from Avraham on the road to the binding, and from Nachum Ish Gamzu on the dusty path, we learn that true devotion is not measured only by speed, but by depth, readiness, and the willingness to give everything when the moment arrives.