Haftarah for Shoftim

This Haftarah comes from the book of Yeshayahu, the prophet who spoke in Jerusalem in the generations of the Assyrian threat, and whose later chapters look far ahead to the exile of his people and to their redemption. It is one of the readings of consolation that follow Tisha b'Av, the fast marking the destruction of the Beit HaMikdash, when Israel most needs to hear a prophet's voice of comfort.

The passage speaks to Israel as a people already scattered and humiliated among the nations, addressed here under the name of the city that embodies them: Zion, Jerusalem lying in the dust. Its subject is not the punishment but its end — the exile of Babylon and the long exile that followed, and the promise that both will be undone.

"I, I am the One who comforts you" — the Holy One tells Israel that they are righteous and full of merit, and asks why they should tremble before a human being who may die any day, a man who withers as quickly as grass. "You have forgotten GOD your Maker": they have failed to rely on the One who is able to help them, who formed them and formed the heavens and the earth as well. The rage of an oppressor flares up today and tomorrow is gone. When the prophet says "Quickly the crouching one is freed; he is not cut down and slain," he means that the persecution will soon end, and that even if exile is like a grave, Israel will not die there — those who do die in exile will rise again at the resurrection of the dead, and meanwhile they will not lack food among the nations. There is another way to hear the words: the mortal you fear is himself a weak creature. Eat too much and his stomach pains him; eat nothing and he starves. "He shall not want for food" — he must eat every single day simply in order not to die. Such is the man before whom Israel cowers.

"I the ETERNAL your God — who stirs up the sea into roaring waves": I am the One who split the sea and set its winds roaring, and I can certainly bring you out of exile. "Have put My words in your mouth" — I gave you My words so that you would be My people, and covered you with My hand to shield you from your enemies; so will I shelter you through the exile until the Mashiach, the redeemer promised to Israel, comes and the heavens and earth are renewed. Then the address turns to the city: "Rouse, rouse yourself! Arise, O Jerusalem" — you have drunk enough of the bitter drink of exile, drained even the dregs, and there was none among all the children you reared to lead you back on the right path. Two evils came upon you, hunger and the enemy's sword; ordinarily a sufferer finds some comfort in learning that others have borne the same, but here there was no one to be found whose anguish matched yours. Your children lay fainting with broken limbs at every street corner, Israel caught in exile like a wild ox in a net, drunk with sorrow and not with wine.

Then comes the reversal. "Thus said GOD, your Sovereign" — He is Israel's Master while the nations are only Israel's temporary lords, and He will fight the nations on His people's behalf. He takes the cup of reeling from Israel's hand, never to be drunk again, and places it in the hands of the tormentors — those who said "Get down, that we may walk over you," until Israel lay flat like a paved boulevard for the nations to tread upon. "Awake, awake, O Zion!": put on again the beautiful garments you once wore, for the uncircumcised and the impure will not enter Jerusalem again. Shake off the dust of exile, take your seat, and loosen the bonds from your neck. You were sold for no price — it was your sins that sold you — and you will be redeemed not with silver but with teshuvah, the return to God.

God recalls that Israel went down to Egypt of its own accord, and later into the exile of Babylon, where the king of Ashur seized them and gave nothing in return. And now, in this long third exile, what has been earned by so much waiting? "My people has been carried off for nothing" — they owe the nations no money; only their sins have done this, while God's name is reviled among the nations. But in the time of redemption His name will be recognized, and every word He spoke through the prophets will be seen to have come true.

The close of the Haftarah is pure anticipation. How lovely will be the feet that run over the high mountains announcing peace, the coming of the Mashiach, and God's kingship over Zion — for the nations ruled Zion in her exile, but then the whole world will declare that God reigns. The watchmen will cry out together from the ramparts, prophecy that ceased in exile will return, and every eye will behold Him clearly. Even the ruins of Jerusalem will lift their voices in song. God will bare His holy arm before all the nations and their rulers, and they will see who brings Israel out. "Turn, turn away, touch naught impure" — leave the nations behind, purify yourselves of every impurity and sin, you who bear no sword and no bow but only the mercy of the Holy One, which is your sword and spear. And this departure will not be a flight: Israel will walk out openly and unhurried, with God going before them and behind, helping along whoever has not the strength to walk.

The opening words are doubled — "I, I am the One who comforts you" — and the sages read the repetition as a promise of double payment. A king in his anger sent his wife away; when he wished her back, she asked that her marriage contract be rewritten for twice the sum. So Israel, driven into exile, asks the Holy One to double the ketubah, the marriage contract binding husband to wife. At Sinai He said "I am the Lord your God" once; at the redemption He says "I, I" — the consolation will exceed the covenant that preceded it.

Everything else in the Haftarah follows from that doubling. The fear of mortal men is misplaced because such men must eat daily to stay alive, while the God who split the sea has pledged His hand over Israel. The cup Israel drained to its dregs is not endless; it passes to other hands. And the redemption, when it comes, will not be a frightened escape but a slow, public procession, with the Holy One walking ahead and bringing up the rear so that no one is left behind.