Vaetchanan
Deuteronomy 3:23-7:11
Isaiah 40:1-26
Shabbat Nachamu
This Shabbat is called the “Sabbath of comfort.” The Haftarah this week begins with the phrase, “Comfort ye, comfort ye my people, saith your G-d.”
The three weeks of national mourning following the Fast of Av (when the Holy Temple in Jerusalem was destroyed and the nation exiled) are over. On each of the previous Sabbaths, the Haftarah offered messages of rebuke and denunciation. Each year, during these three weeks, excessive joy and celebration are forbidden. Now this depressing season of sadness gives way to hope and comfort.
These three Sabbaths of threatened punishments are followed by seven Sabbaths of consolation, of which this week is the first. Because the prophet Isaiah is the pre-eminent consoler of Israel, the bringer of hope and encouragement, the Haftarah is selected from his prophesies.
A horrendous calamity had befallen the Jewish nation. The powerful Babylonian army had left the magnificent Temple, the glory of the people, a mass of ruins. The heroic fighters had fallen on the battlefield in defense of their country, and the people were led away in chains from their beloved land. The Book of Lamentations, written by the prophet Jeremiah, which is read on the Ninth of Av, painfully describes in horrific detail the misery brought upon Israel by famine and sword.
Today we can well understand the mentality of these vanquished people because of what has happened in our own time. We have been made well aware of the horrors of war. We have learned of the experiences of prisoners of war and concentration camp survivors.
To grasp the mentality of the Jewish people 2,500 years ago, we need only to think about the state of mind of the Jews under the Nazi terror.
To people such as these, the prophet arrived with the heartening message, “Comfort ye, comfort ye, my people.” He essentially told them, “To your human eyes the future might look as hopeless as can be. To your human mind, no end appears possible from the horrible fate into which you have fallen. Still, don’t despair or lose heart. All is not lost. Your conqueror will be defeated. Your prison doors will be thrown open, and you will return home free men and women.”
But when Isaiah spoke these words, could the miserable people not have responded, “Empty words! Where is there evidence that a day of rescue will dawn? Babylon appears invincible. There appears no other power that would be able to challenge the supremacy of the conqueror.” In this respect, the situation for the ancient Jews was actually worse than for the modern war victims, who may have placed some hope in the Allied powers.
But the words of Isaiah consisted of more than “Comfort ye, comfort ye.” He added the supremely significant phrase, “Saith your G-d.” His message was not his own invention. He was communicating Divine words. He was a messenger in the name of G-d.
Perhaps the people saw no ally because they were looking in the wrong direction. If they shifted their gaze heavenward, they would find a Helper who had fought their battles in the past and had humbled powerful nations before them. To Him the nation of Babylon was but a grain of dust.
Of course, there were some who reacted with incredulity at the time. But the message of “Comfort ye” that came at a time of such crisis did seem to make all the difference. The people’s courage was renewed and their determination was strengthened. What had seemed an impossible obstacle was overcome.
The comfort of religion has been shown to be a reality, and it teaches us how to discover reserves of strength within ourselves. What previously seemed to be invincible loses its power under our renewed assaults. The trials of our daily lives become a bit easier to bear when we drink from the fountain of encouragement.
King David, the Psalmist who called G-d a refuge, did so not because it was fine-sounding phrase, but because he found Him to be a refuge. The Psalms have had an amazing hold on the hearts of countless men and women, not because they are literary masterpieces (which they are) but because their message of hope rings true, and because they respond to human needs and are verified in human experience.
Shabbat shalom.
Rabbi Pinchas Lipner is dean of the Hebrew Academy in San Francisco.