Our haftarah presents the people of Judah metaphorically as a woman who is shamed because she has never been in labor and is therefore without children, also shamed because she has been forsaken by her husband. Then, in the verses following, this woman’s status is reversed as she has many children and as her Maker, Adonai, becomes her husband. 

The ever-present God is Immanuel, God-with-us, both in our exile and wanderings and in the holiest of times on Yom Kippur. As this day approaches we can prepare for it, along with all Israel, by making straight in the desert of our chaotic lives and divided hearts a highway for our God.

We’ve all heard the saying “Beauty is only skin deep”—the idea that someone’s external beauty is not as important as their inner beauty. This saying, with a little twist, reminds me of the haftarah for R’eh (Isaiah 54:11–55:5); instead of contrasting external beauty with internal beauty this passage reveals that both are to be found in rebuilt Jerusalem.

Two verses, Deuteronomy 10:12-13, are the centerpiece and crown of Parashat Ekev, a summary statement of what God required (and requires) of Israel. Moshe is summarizing the lessons of 40 years in the Sinai desert, and this is his tamsit, Hebrew for we’d call the “bottom line” lesson, of the experiences that the nation had just been through. 

Nachamu, nachamu ami, amar Eloheichem …“Comfort, comfort, my people, says your God.” These five Hebrew words introduce perhaps the most eloquent portion of Scripture, the “Rhapsody of Zion Redeemed” (Isaiah 40–66), which speaks of restoration, redemption, comfort, and hope for Israel.

Jewish tradition tells us that whoever destroys a life is considered to have destroyed the whole world. In recent days, many worlds were shattered here in the United States. Gilroy, California; El Paso, Texas; Dayton, Ohio; Chicago, Illinois—there have been so many violent attacks in our country that it is nearly impossible to create a comprehensive list.

This week, in the second Haftarah of Rebuke, Jeremiah 2:4–28; 4:1–2, Hashem complains against his people in his own words. It’s not a legal indictment, but a cry of betrayal and bereavement over a lost relationship.

As we celebrate our fortieth anniversary, the Union is coming to the end of one generation and the beginning of a new one. Now is the moment we find out whether we continue to march boldly along the trails blazed by our pioneers or fade away into a mere footnote in the history books. In the face of such uncertainty, with the stakes as high as they are, how can we look forward with confidence?

In the 21st century, with all of our technological and scientific advances, humankind occasionally gets the erroneous idea that we can control our destinies, that our own advancements allow us to fulfill the command of Hashem to rule over all of creation (Gen 1:28). Yet with all of our advancements, we cannot bring about even something as simple as the morning dew.  

Our haftarah takes place during a 200-year time of adjustment for the twelve tribes in the Land of Israel. It was a time of chaos, and too often a time of turning from the Torah to Canaanite practices. Jephthah or Yiftach is one of the “Judges” at this time in history, but he strikes the reader as a real outcast from his society.