By Hazzan Jacob Sandler.
The Haftarah for Bamidbar comes to us from Hosea. Hosea prophesied in the 8th century BCE in the Northern Kingdom of Israel. Hosea was a contemporary of Isaiah and Amos in Judah. Similar to his predecessor in the North, Elijah, Hosea was deeply disturbed by the worship of Canaanite gods, like Baal.
Elijah, we may recall, challenged King Ahab and the prophets of Baal and won over the people. But let’s face it: sometimes being Jewish can be hard and other practices can look so enticing…
Who among us hasn’t felt the FOMO (fear of missing out) of an amazing concert on a Friday night, or smelled crispy bacon and wondered if it was as good as the hype? Or maybe you were one of those kids who envied the Xbox your friend got for Christmas, while you got 8 presents each ⅛ the cost — a pair of socks, or a board game you had to share with your siblings… Perhaps you’ve found that eastern meditation and yoga are more spiritually exciting than your last Kol Nidrei experience. Or in recent months, it might just feel like being Jewish comes at such a high cost.
But Hosea presents a bold, challenging, yet beautiful metaphor. The inspiration for Rabbinic interpretation of Song of Songs, is Hosea’s portrayal of God as a husband to the People of Israel, God’s consecrated wife. While Song of Songs reveals the young, new love between God and the Jews, Hosea is charged to call out the Israelites for their Idolatry, which is likened to adultery.
But it’s a powerful image. The Torah is a ketubah – a written covenant and the ultimate expression of God’s ahava rabah/ahavat olam – God’s eternal great love for us. Our love languages are words of praise – prayer, psalms, hymns, quality time – observing Shabbat and festivals, exchanging gifts – korbanot from us, the new grain and oil from God, acts of service – the mitzvot and God’s protection, and perhaps the physical touch of tzitzit to our lips and a tallit around our shoulders like a kiss and hug – the warm embrace of God whose love is represented by the Torah and mitzvot symbolized in that very tallit.
It’s so romantic. But Hosea’s prophecy is pointed, harsh and critical. The Israelites are called a harlot, “because she thought, ‘I will go after my lovers, who supply my bread and my water, my wool and my linen, my oil and my drink” (Hosea 2:7). And putting aside the overt anthropomorphization that is required for the character of God to function, God is distraught. To be betrayed in this way by God’s own beloved. What would any person feel? Unfortunately I know people who have been cheated on in this way. Some report deep anger, resentment and pain. Their emotions reflected in God’s own response: “I will hedge up her roads with thorns and raise walls against her, and she shall not find her paths.”(Hosea 2:8) or “I will take back My new grain in its time and My new wine in its season, and I will snatch away My wool and My linen that serve to cover her nakedness.” (Hosea 2:11) God is like the betrayed who kicks the unfaithful partner out of the house, and takes back his sweatshirt and that tupperware he lent her. Some, in their anger, will lash out and hope that she and her lover will be punished. “And I will end all her rejoicing: Her festivals, new moons and sabbaths–all her festive seasons.” (Hosea 2:13).
But I’ve also known those who, despite this betrayal, remain in touch with the deep love which is the foundation of the deep pain. They’ve expressed a desire to work through the infidelity, to understand what it was about their relationship which was so broken it could result in such an act. They’ve sought help to move past this painful moment, because after all, they still love their partner. If their partner can renew the covenant of their love, and show real repentance, perhaps the betrayed can still take back their lover.
And Hosea expresses this hope too, on behalf of God to the people. God seeks to be a better partner as in Hosea 2:16-17, “I will speak to her tenderly. I will give her her vineyards from there, and the Valley of Achor as a plowland of hope.” Poetically, God says, “You will call [Me] Ishi (my husband), and no more will you call Me Baali (my master)” Baali also is a play on the name Baal of the Canaanite god, so it works on a lot of levels.
God promises to take back the people, in love, saying, “I will espouse you forever; I will espouse you with righteousness and justice, and with goodness and mercy. And I will espouse you with faithfulness; then you shall be devoted to Hashem.” (Hosea 2:21-22).
וְאֵרַשְׂתִּ֥יךְ לִ֖י לְעוֹלָ֑ם וְאֵרַשְׂתִּ֥יךְ לִי֙ בְּצֶ֣דֶק וּבְמִשְׁפָּ֔ט וּבְחֶ֖סֶד וּֽבְרַחֲמִֽים׃
וְאֵרַשְׂתִּ֥יךְ לִ֖י בֶּאֱמוּנָ֑ה וְיָדַ֖עַתְּ אֶת־יְהֹוָֽה׃
Those last two verses of our haftarah we say as we wrap the tefillin around our fingers, like a wedding ring between us and God. The dowry of our new relationship is not financial but paid in Tzedek, Mishpat, Chesed and Rachamim – righteousness, justice, loving kindness and mercy. And with faithfulness, emunah. Then you shall be ‘devoted’ – literally V’yada’at – to know Hashem, and yes this can be taken in the biblical sense.
Our haftarah reminds us that our practices, our traditions, rites and rituals are not to be spurned. We should learn from other cultures and be worldly people, and yet we should always remember who we are, as Jews, and our unique relationship as partners with God in making this world the best it can be. That is a responsibility and a privilege. And when we make mistakes, as we all will, we can remember that God will always take us back in love, when we strive to be our best selves in relation to God, God’s creations, and each other.