I was asked to introduce the Torah portion (Parsha), on the second day of Rosh Hashanah. Here is what I said:

The Torah reading for the second day of Rosh Hashanah recounts the Akeidah, or the Binding of Isaac, one of the most intense and challenging stories in the Torah.

This story has always felt unsettling to me, and I’ve never quite connected with it. But when Rabbi Israel asked if I’d be interested in introducing the parsha, he said, “I thought it might be particularly poignant to talk about fostering, given that the reading is Akeidat Yitzchak.”

His mind works to find connections I would have never thought of!
So, I thought for a while and said, “yes,” because fostering is something so close to my heart, and I would take the opportunity to reflect on a parsha I’ve struggled with.
 
In the Akeidah, Yitzchak is led by his father, Avraham, up Mount Moriah, not knowing what fate awaits him. Avraham believes he is following God’s command, and Yitzchak’s future hangs in the balance – but queue the ram who got stuck in the thicket, leading to Yitzchak being spared.

So how is the Akeidah a metaphor for foster care?

Out there, right?

I thought about a few interpretations—some I accept, and some I don’t.

First, an easy one: Like Yitzchak, many foster children feel abandoned or confused, wondering why they are in this difficult situation. They love their parents, and they often have no choice but to follow their lead. –

I got this, right?

But then, I thought of interpretations I shook off. Like:

Some might suggest that foster parents, like Avraham, walk a path of unknowns, driven by blind faith. But I won’t let Avraham off that easy.

Some might say that the Akeidah is about trusting in a “higher power.” I don’t quite buy that either.

What I do believe is that the Akeidah can be seen as a metaphor for the journey of parenting. Period.

We all do the best we can with the information and resources we have in the moment.

Hindsight is 20/20.

Avraham, like many of the biological parents we’ve met over the past 5 years of fostering, loved his son—that’s never in question.
He believed he was doing what was right.
He didn’t reach out for guidance or support, not even to Sarah.

But as with most things, his choices affected far more than just himself.

We all know people who struggle to ask for help, who make choices we don’t think are best for them or their loved ones.

But who are we to judge?

Our role in the community is not to judge others’ choices, but to support their journey toward making better ones.

So who, in this metaphor, represents foster parents, people like Jason and me?

For those of you who know me, you won’t be surprised when I say: it’s the disruptor in the story, the ram, who appears just as Yitzchak’s life is about to be taken.

Foster parents’ step into a situation — not of their own making — and strive to provide a bridge between a child’s past and future, just as the ram did for Yitzchak.

Being a disrupter, in the realm of foster care, means stepping in at critical moments to challenge the status quo and create positive change in children’s lives.

And as my dear friend and fellow foster mom Susan pointed out: Not unlike the ram, we often don’t leave unscathed. We also sometimes end up spilling all of our blood (tears), giving our lives for a child we just met.

We are there to offer children protection, stability, and love at a time of great uncertainty. A time when their biological family are unable to take care of them. 

But that is not all we do.
This role involves: advocating for children’s needs, helping to break cycles of neglect, and providing support where it’s most needed,
whether that be to the children or to their biological families.

By challenging systemic barriers and offering new perspectives, advocating for reunification when we feel it is a safe choice, disrupters can help foster children find their voices, ultimately paving the way for a brighter future filled with love, stability, and opportunity.

So, with that, as we start to read this parsha, that I still don’t know how connected to I feel… I ask you to think about how you can be a disrupter in this new year.

Much like the ram that intervened in the Akeidah, a disrupter can be a catalyst for hope and transformation.

Shannah Tovah