Comfort! A Commentary on Parashat Ekev 5782
By Rabbi Dr. Laurence Edwards, Ph.D., Professor of Bible, Jewish Thought, Jewish History
In the weeks that follow Tish’ah Be’Av (which was observed this year on August 7) there is a sense in which we see ourselves as mourners. We have recited the lamentations over the destruction of Jerusalem – traditionally done sitting on the floor or on the ground, in the posture of mourning.
But the rhythm of the calendar then hastens to begin the process of comforting–announced in last week’s haftarah:
נַחֲמ֥וּ נַחֲמ֖וּ עַמִּ֑י יֹאמַ֖ר אֱלֹֽהֵיכֶֽם׃
“Comfort, oh comfort My people,” says your God. (Isaiah 40:1)
The prophet Isaiah tells us that it is God Godself who is extending to us words of comfort. But the Hebrew of the verse might also be read as God asking us to extend words of comfort back to God: God too is bereaved by the destruction. We are in mourning together, and together we travel the seven weeks (a kind of shiva) between Tish’ah Be’Av and Rosh Hashanah as a road of mutual comfort and encouragement.
Comfort, oh My people. Be consoled and encouraged, oh My people. These seven Sabbaths (of which we now reach the second) are known as Sabbaths of nechemta, of ‘comfort.’ All seven haftarot come from the later chapters of the Book of Isaiah, which encourage the exiles in Babylon to prepare themselves for their return to the Land of Israel. Nechemta is from the same root as nichum (as in ‘comforting’ mourners), and it is the root of the opening word of the first of the seven haftarot: נַחֲמ֥וּ (Nahamu, “Comfort”). You may recognize it also from the Aramaic of the Kaddish: “לְעֵלָּא מִן כָּל בִּרְכָתָא וְשִׁירָתָא, תֻּשְׁבְּחָתָא וְנֶחֱמָתָא” (l’ella min kol birkhata veshirata, tushbechata venechemata, “…beyond all the blessings and songs, praises and words of comfort that are ever spoken in the world…”) And at the end of this week’s haftarah, we see this root again: “Truly the Lord has comforted (נִחַם, nicham) Zion, comforted all her ruins” (Isaiah 51:3).
Image of simple wooden chair with exposed cushion from torn case, against stone gray wall on lightly sanded gray stone ground; courtesy of Amusan, accessed at https://www.pexels.com/search/broken%20chair/ on August 16, 2022.
What do we mean by comfort? The comforts of Judaism are not quite the same as the comforts dangled before us by 21st century American consumer culture. The comfort Isaiah is talking about is not the comfort of putting up one’s feet on the recliner, sipping a margarita, and clicking through 300 channels on the big-screen smart TV. Neither is this notion of comfort what we mean when we say that we are looking for a synagogue where we can feel “comfortable.” Of course we want our synagogue or our community to feel like a kind of home for us. But feeling “at home” does not always mean feeling “comfortable,” and comfort is not all we seek from a synagogue or community.
There must always be a sense of challenge before us. America is our home, and we are well aware of the challenges and responsibilities of citizenship that lie before us. Many of us may think of Israel as home, but we can hardly feel “comfortable” when we think of the many challenges faced by that small country. Synagogue, community, and–perhaps most importantly–Torah are home. Sometimes we feel their embrace and sometimes their challenge; sometimes a hug and a pat on the back, and sometimes the demand to do more and do it better.
May you be comforted and challenged as we move toward a new year!