Chapter 6 of Amos opens with a cry of "Woe" upon those at ease in Zion and those who trust in the mountain of Samaria, leading us directly into a major question that underlies the entire chapter. The Malbim reveals to us that the entire opening of the chapter is drawn toward what is said later in verse 7: "Therefore, now they shall be exiled at the head of the exiles." The prophet highlights an utterly illogical phenomenon: the people of Israel are the first to be exiled, and only after them are the other nations exiled.
This was the case in the exile of the Ten Tribes at the hand of the king of Assyria. While the king of Assyria also exiled other nations - Carchemish, Calneh, Arpad, Hamath, Damascus - the Ten Tribes were the first; they were at the head of the exiles. The Malbim notes that the same occurred with Nebuchadnezzar: he did not exile Edom, Ammon, Moab, and the Philistines until after he had exiled Judah. Both regarding Samaria and regarding Judah, our exile preceded the exile of the other nations, and the king who exiled us only exiled them afterward.
The prophet wonders at this: according to the natural course of events, a conquering king should have started specifically with the small and weak kingdoms, and only afterward turned to the large and fortified kingdom. The logic is simple: a king who seeks to instill terror needs a track record of successes and conquests. If he moves immediately against the great kingdom at the outset and falls there, he has lost everything. One does not take such a risk. One begins with the small kingdoms, conquers them, and then arrives at the great kingdom as a victor with a proven history of conquests. Why, then, does he come first of all to Samaria and Zion, which are mighty, fortified kingdoms?
הוֹי הַשַּׁאֲנַנִּים בְּצִיּוֹן וְהַבֹּטְחִים בְּהַר שֹׁמְרוֹן, נְקֻבֵי רֵאשִׁית הַגּוֹיִם וּבָאוּ לָהֶם בֵּית יִשְׂרָאֵל׃ - Woe to those who are at ease in Zion and those who trust in the mountain of Samaria, the distinguished of the foremost of nations, to whom the House of Israel comes!
What is the difference between "at ease" (she'anan) and "confident/trusting" (bote'ach)? The Malbim explains: one who is she'anan is a person who has no disturbance whatsoever, no trouble, no war, and no terror, neither from without nor from within. The root of the word she'anan is the antithesis of sha'on - sha'on means noise and clamor, whereas she'anan is the opposite, sitting in quietness and serenity. By contrast, one who trusts is not necessarily at ease. There might be an active war, and he may not be calm at all regarding the situation, but he possesses strength and relies on his power to save him.
Therefore, says the Malbim, the people of Zion - meaning the Kingdom of Judah, Jerusalem and Benjamin - had no war whatsoever at that time. The king of Assyria did not march against Judah until the fourteenth year of Hezekiah, whereas the exile of Samaria occurred in the sixth year of Hezekiah, eight years earlier. From this we see that the Ten Tribes were exiled first. He therefore calls the people of Zion "at ease": they face no threat, no siege, and no fear. But in the mountain of Samaria, they are already under threat, a siege already surrounds them, yet they are nonetheless "trusting" - trusting in Mount Samaria, in their fortified city, believing it will be difficult to conquer them. Indeed, scripture records that the king of Assyria besieged Samaria for three years, showing that it was truly not easy to conquer, and they had, so to speak, something on which to rely.
"The distinguished of the foremost of nations" - as in "who were designated (nikvu) by name," meaning their names are prominent, famous, and renowned, and they stand at the pinnacle of prestige and greatness, famous for being the foremost of nations. If so, "to whom the House of Israel comes" - how can it be that the House of Israel, who are the foremost of nations in stature and renown, go and come to the nations, being exiled to them first? At first, the king of Assyria exiled them to the nations adjacent to them, exiling them to Damascus, which is why at first they were not even alarmed by the exile, saying: What, Damascus? That is close to home, we will return in no time, and so they did not panic. Still, the question stands: how did they come to the nations around them, meaning, why were they exiled before them?
עִבְרוּ כַלְנֵה וּרְאוּ וּלְכוּ מִשָּׁם חֲמַת רַבָּה, וּרְדוּ גַת פְּלִשְׁתִּים, הֲטוֹבִים מִן הַמַּמְלָכוֹת הָאֵלֶּה אִם רַב גְּבוּלָם מִגְּבֻלְכֶם׃ - Pass over to Calneh and see, and go from there to Hamath Rabbah, and go down to Gath of the Philistines: Are they better than these kingdoms, or is their border greater than your border?
Here the prophet tells them: Reflect, there is Divine Providence at work here. It is not by chance that you were exiled first, both Samaria preceding the other cities and lands around it, and Judah preceding the other lands around it. Behold, "Pass over to Calneh and see" - at first, some of the nations passed in their exile to a place called Calneh. "And go from there to Hamath Rabbah" - after the king of Assyria conquered Calneh, he exiled them from there to Hamath, which was still at peace. Look: he conquered Calneh even before Hamath. And afterward, when he conquered Hamath, the prophet tells them, "and go down to Gath of the Philistines," for they then moved to Gath, which was still sitting in tranquility. In simple terms: each of his conquests caused them to move to another place, and you see everyone else tranquil while you are already in exile.
If so, there is something here that demands contemplation. Why is it that you were exiled at the head of the exiles? Why did Hashem arrange that Israel should be exiled first, passing through these kingdoms and seeing everyone tranquil and quiet, while you alone are cast about in exile? Why do you not realize that this is neither coincidental nor natural? Regarding this, he asks: "Are they better than these kingdoms" - are those kingdoms better than Zion and Samaria, such that the king of Assyria did not exile them first? "Or is their border greater than your border" - did he perhaps fear to fight them first because their territory was larger? That was not the reality at all. Was it truly harder to fight Calneh, Hamath Rabbah, and Gath of the Philistines? These were not places that were harder to conquer. What, then, was the logic in starting specifically with us?
A fundamental principle has often been explained: when you see something that defies logic and is incomprehensible to human reason, and yet it happens - this points directly to Divine Providence (Hashgachah). When something occurs according to human reason and logic, one can say it happened simply because it was natural and expected. But something that defies reason and logic demonstrates that Someone orchestrated it and watched over it to ensure it occurred. Take, for example, the survival of the Jewish people: had Israel been dwelling peacefully and securely upon their land with a promise that they would never perish, it would not be a wondrous promise, for it would accord with natural logic. But when the Jewish people are dispersed throughout the entire world - a diaspora unlike any other - and the Holy One, Blessed is He, states that they will be pursued everywhere so that they do not assimilate in the places where they dwell, and nevertheless they do not perish, this is a paradox upon paradox upon paradox. And so the Holy One, Blessed is He, says: Observe, there is something here that defies natural logic. Why should you be the ones conquered first, when the other nations were the ones who should have been conquered beforehand, and all of them remain calm and secure while you are already being uprooted and exiled?
הַמְנַדִּים לְיוֹם רָע, וַתַּגִּשׁוּן שֶׁבֶת חָמָס׃ - You who put off the day of evil, and bring near the seat of violence.
We have a general rule: when a verse is obscure, interpretations multiply. The Malbim explains that here comes the answer to the question: Why did you go into exile first, while the other nations did not? Because the other nations "put off the day of evil [hamenaddim leyom ra]." The root *nadah* means to distance or banish: an *ishah niddah* is a woman who is set apart, and *mei niddah* are waters sprinkled for purification (from the concept of banishing impurity). At its core, *niddah* is related to *nod* (wandering), as in "a fugitive and a wanderer shall you be on earth [na vanad tihyeh ba'aretz]," for a *niddah* is distanced from her husband and at times would even relocate to another dwelling. Thus, "those who put off the day of evil" means that these nations made every effort to banish and push the day of evil far away from themselves so that it would not arrive quickly. But you, "and bring near the seat of violence [vataggishun shevet chamas]" - you draw near and precipitate your own ruin (*hashbatah*) through the violence of the king of Assyria, who will come, plunder everything, and destroy you.
The Malbim's explanation is compelling in the text: throughout the passage, the prophet addresses us directly in the second person ("you"); why, then, does the verse state here "hamenaddim" in the third person ("those who put off")? It must be that he is not speaking of us, but of the other nations. Rashi, however, explains differently, understanding the entire expression as addressed to the people of Israel: you, Israel, "put off the day of evil" - meaning, you dislodge and push yourselves toward the day of evil; "and bring near the seat of violence" - and you present yourselves to dwell in an exile that will rob and plunder you, as it is written, "For the violence done to your brother Jacob, shame shall cover you" (Obadiah 1:10), as Rashi cites from the Midrash of Rabbi Shimshon.
Another explanation, which Radak also offers: "Those who put off the day of evil" - whenever they were warned that troubles were coming, that there would be destruction, that terrible things would occur, they would say: No, there is still time, it will not happen in our day. They would push the dire warnings far away, casting off the evil day into the distant future, like "they cast [yaddu] stones at me" (Lamentations 3:53). They thought: This is not destined to befall us; these prophecies are for the end of days (*ikvata deMeshicha*); there is still plenty of time; it does not apply to us. "And bring near the seat of violence" - on the other hand, violence is precisely what you draw near: you sit at the city gate - which, as noted earlier, is the place of justice - and introduce violence there, deceiving and lying in judgment and ruling unjustly. Thus, your conduct is the exact opposite of what it should be: instead of banishing violence and falsehood and recognizing that the day of evil is near, you do the reverse - the evil day you push away, while falsehood, violence, and wickedness you draw near and practice immediately.
הַשֹּׁכְבִים עַל מִטּוֹת שֵׁן וּסְרֻחִים עַל עַרְשׂוֹתָם, וְאֹכְלִים כָּרִים מִצֹּאן וַעֲגָלִים מִתּוֹךְ מַרְבֵּק׃ - Who lie upon beds of ivory, and stretch out upon their couches, and eat lambs from the flock, and calves from the midst of the stall.
Here the prophet depicts their wicked deeds. The Malbim explains: A standard bed (*mittah*) was made for resting upon either by day or by night, whereas a couch (*eres*) was designated specifically for the rest of women, small children, the ill, or the pampered, and was far more delicate and luxurious than an ordinary bed. Concerning this couch, it is said that they lay "sprawled [*seruchim*] upon their couches." What is the meaning of *seruchim*? Chazal say: They would swap wives with one another and foul (*masrichin*) their couches with seed that was not their own. The Malbim explains similarly: vile harlots foul with seed. They further indulged themselves by "eating lambs from the flock," partaking of gourmet delicacies, pursuing the lusts and pleasures of this world to the absolute limit, gorging and carousing with those harlots. *Karim* refers to fattened sheep, and the calves they took from the stall (*marbek*), the pen where animals were fattened and the calves made plump. Why is it called a *marbek*? The Malbim notes that they would fatten the calves so that they would resemble full-grown cattle (*bakar*), and *marbek* is related to *mevakar* - transforming it into cattle, making it look as large as full-grown cattle. See how intensely they pursued desires and material indulgences.
As an aside, wherever Scripture mentions "ivory" (*shen*, literally "tooth"), it refers to elephant ivory. They had beds that were exceptionally rare and lavish.
There are additional explanations of "stretched out [*seruchim*] upon their couches." Rashi and Radak interpret *seruach* in the sense of excess or overflow, as in "the excess that hangs over [serach ha'odef]" (Exodus 26:12), and "and the sheet shall hang over [tisrach] the back of the Mishkan" - that it extends. Similarly, the Sages said that in the era preceding the Messiah, "the wisdom of the scribes will become putrid [*tisrach*]" (Sotah 49b). The straightforward meaning is that people will despise the wisdom of the scribes, the wisdom of the Torah. However, commentators on the *Ein Yaakov* explain, by way of homiletic wit, based on the concept of "the sheet shall hang over," trailing like the train of a bride's gown: "the wisdom of the scribes will extend endlessly" - when the scholar rises to deliver a sermon, he will go on and on, speaking and speaking and speaking with no one to stop him.
Once, a preacher spoke for hours. People asked him: What happened to you? You are not accustomed to speaking for so long - why did you go on at such length this time? He replied: I apologize, I came today without a watch. They told him: Granted, you came without a watch, but there is a calendar hanging right behind you! And at one Sheva Berachot, a Rosh Yeshivah who had evidently delivered a shmuess earlier to the students in the yeshivah decided to deliver it at the Sheva Berachot as well - a mussar talk lasting forty-five minutes, without exaggeration. A person needs good sense and discretion, knowing what to say, how to say it, when to say it, and how much to say. Sometimes, true wisdom lies precisely in knowing "how much to say."
This is like the well-known story of the man who came with a demand to the gabbai and the rabbi of the synagogue that he be given the honor of blowing the shofar this year. They told him: 'Out of the question! The ba'al toke'a must be God-fearing, etc.' He went and obtained an order from the governor mandating that he blow. Since one does not get entangled with the governor, the rabbi said to him: 'You will blow on Yom Kippur, for at the end of Yom Kippur there is also a shofar blast.' The man was outraged and ran back to the governor. The governor summoned the rabbi and asked what this was about, and the rabbi answered: 'I gave him the holiest day of the year, Yom Kippur!' The man said: 'Governor, he is fooling you - on Rosh Hashanah there are a hundred blasts, and on Yom Kippur how many do they blow?' The governor turned to him and said: 'I do not understand. If they gave you the shofar, and the shofar is in your hand, blow as much as you want! Blow even a thousand times!' Rav Galinsky was once invited to speak and was told to speak on a specific topic and given strict limits. He related this story and concluded: 'Gentlemen, now the microphone is in my hands, and now I will blow as much as I want.' There are those who truly feel that the microphone is in their hands, and that is it, you are helpless and grounded. This is 'the wisdom of the scribes shall rot.'
To return to our subject: according to this approach, the term seruchim denotes elongation, like the curtains trailing (ha-seruchot) behind the Mishkan. Rashi explains according to the literal meaning: they would lie on their beds sprawling out their hands and feet, an expression of lying in the height of luxury and comfort. All of this comes to convey their entire mindset, which was taking physical pleasure and materialism to the absolute extreme, the maximum possible, whether in permissible matters or forbidden matters. Therefore, do not wonder why they were exiled at the head of the exiles.
הַפֹּרְטִים עַל פִּי הַנָּבֶל, כְּדָוִיד חָשְׁבוּ לָהֶם כְּלֵי שִׁיר׃ - Who chant to the sound of the lute, and like David devise for themselves instruments of song.
What does it mean to 'strum / chant to the sound of the harp' (lifrot al pi ha-navel)? Rashi cites Menachem, who connects it with 'the single fallen grapes of your vineyard' (u-feret karmekha) - peret in the sense of an individual, isolated detail, as in the principle of kelal u-ferat (general and specific), a specific detail extracted from the whole; and Rashi adds, 'And I see merit in his words.' According to this, it does not mean, as we commonly think, plucking the strings of the harp, but rather that the singer articulates each word in meticulous detail to match the musical instrument, all according to the pleasant tone of the instrument, raising and lowering his voice. That is, lifrot al pi ha-navel means singing with your mouth according to the note the harp produces: the harp sets the tone and rhythm, and you sing along with it. Just as musicians know that if the instrument plays in C, you cannot sing in D or E or any other note; you must be on the exact same pitch the instrument plays. They had great expertise in articulating along with the harp, enunciating the words with precision so that they matched the exact pitch and melody of the harp. It turns out, then, that the verse is speaking here about the singing, not merely playing the harp.
There is another explanation, closer to how we use the term today, 'plucking the strings.' The Radak explains: they pluck (portim) the strings of the harp, each one according to the melody. The strings of the harp form a single unit, and when the musician plays, he as it were separates them into individual details (peratim) - now playing this one, now plucking that one, now striking this one, giving each string its proper pluck according to the appropriate melody. Another explanation is that portim is related to perutah (a small coin), for each person would give a coin to the musician so that he would come and play for him. This was very common in Spain and similar places: a musician would arrive with his violin, people would give him a sum of money, and he would strum and play beneath the window.
There is a story told - perhaps about the Noda BiYehudah or one of the other Gedolim - of two men who came to a din Torah. A musician arrived with his violin and began playing beneath the window. One man stuck his head out and enjoyed the music, and the other stuck his head out from the other side and also enjoyed it. They began to argue: one said, 'Why are you getting involved? He was sent for me!' and the other said, 'Not at all, he was sent for me!' Their arguing grew so loud that the violin's music could no longer be heard. They decided to go to a din Torah. As was customary before a din Torah, each party would deposit a fee (dmei psak), a certain sum for the rabbi who had to take time away from his learning to hear their case. Both paid the fee, presented their arguments before the rabbi, and the rabbi rendered his ruling. Finally, before they left, the rabbi looked at the money on the table and said: 'Now it turns out that the musician came to play for me. The only one who gained from this entire affair is me.' In any event, people would give a coin or a sum of money to a musician - not just like a street musician with an accordion and an open case in town, but to any musician they would give a coin to come and play for them; this is another understanding of portim, from the word for small change.
And now the prophet says: 'Like David they devised for themselves instruments of song' - they were convinced that they knew how to play like David, of whom it was said that he was skilled in playing and knew the types of melodies on every musical instrument, and they imagined they were just like him. But Rashi notes: it is not comparable at all, for David played for the sake of Heaven, whereas they played for mere pleasure. Can one possibly compare your music to his? David's playing was for the sake of Heaven, while they do so purely for pleasure. And this is what the Radak writes: to tell you that all their pursuits were in various forms of indulgence, and they did not remember Hashem, blessed be He.
From here lies an answer to all the various singers and music practitioners, where everyone wears a kippah and wants to show you that what he is engaged in is holy work for Heaven. He tells you that the world of music is close to the world of teshuvah, perhaps even higher than it, and that he is dealing with exalted, sublime realms. If that is so, why are most of those engaged in music on a very, very low spiritual level? They ought to be the greatest Torah scholars of the generation, the tzaddikim of the generation, the most God-fearing men of the generation - yet unfortunately we see that they are usually on the opposite side. Rather, it is as the Radak says: all their pursuits were in various forms of indulgence, and they did not remember Hashem, blessed be He; and as Rashi writes: David's musical instruments were for the sake of Heaven, whereas these were for personal pleasure.
When you act like David, regarding such music you are right. Regarding the song of the Levi'im, it is written that anyone who heard them would have his heart broken within him and repent. The Kohen would see a person arriving hunched over with guilt, and he would tell the Levi'im to raise their voices in song, and they would play; the person would listen to the Levi'im and begin to weep, his heart broken. Songs of that caliber are what we are speaking of - not remixes, dance tracks, rock, and similar styles. Even if you 'converted' the song and gave it words from Tehillim, the Torah still dons sackcloth over what you have done, for you took a sacred verse and turned it into a gentile melody that is entirely about passions and excitement, the very antithesis of Da'as Torah. So to come and claim, 'Look, here is song, here is music, it is lofty' - indeed it is lofty, but you can incur exile over that very loftiness when you bring it down so low.
הַשֹּׁתִים בְּמִזְרְקֵי יַיִן וְרֵאשִׁית שְׁמָנִים יִמְשָׁחוּ, וְלֹא נֶחְלוּ עַל שֵׁבֶר יוֹסֵף׃ - Who drink from basins of wine and anoint themselves with the finest oils, but are not grieved over the ruin of Joseph.
Before the explanation, a technical note: regarding verses 5 and 6, anyone who opens the commentaries will see - and an examination of digital texts shows the same - that they all mistakenly print the Malbim on verse 6 under verse 5, omitting any Malbim on verse 5. It is unclear whether this error arose because there was no Malbim on verse 5 and the commentary on verse 6 was attached there instead, or whether there was a commentary on verse 5 that was lost to us. The Malbim there does explain in his lexical analysis (Biur HaMilot) that haporṭim relates to the concept of kelal uferat (general and specific), but he does not explain the entire verse. It is likely that there was a commentary of the Malbim on verse 5 that has been lost, but in all printed editions examined, even those from a century ago, they cite the Malbim's explanation of verse 6 and mistakenly attach it to verse 5.
And what is the meaning of "who drink in bowls of wine" (shotim bemizrekei yayin)? The Radak explains: instead of drinking from a small cup, they would drink from a large vessel, a cup that was a large basin (mizrak). What is a mizrak? It is a vessel used to toss and pour the blood onto the altar, called a mizrak from the root for casting or tossing (zerikah) - not to be confused with a modern syringe - and it was a large vessel. The prophet is telling us: these people do not drink from small vessels, not from a small cup, but rather like those giant beer steins, akin to a half-bucket with a handle. They sought out enormous vessels in order to indulge their pleasure to the fullest, and this is how Rashi, the Radak, and the Malbim explain it.
Rashi cites another explanation from Chazal in Masechet Shabbat: they would toss their cups to one another. Apparently, it was a form of revelry and amusement: they would pour a cup for someone, and he would toss it to his fellow, who would catch it and drink - a type of indulgent game. It is quite possible that this is connected to the clinking of glasses, where they would clink cup against cup and the wine would spill over from one to another, as explained in some commentaries. If so, one should be cautious about such practices today. Another explanation is that mizrekei yayin refers to a tall, elongated vessel with two spouts on either side like drinking straws, from which two people would drink together. It was called mizrekei yayin because the wine was tossed, as it were, from one person's mouth to the other's: when one drew up wine and paused for a moment, the wine would drop, splash back inside, and rise up to his companion. Thus, hygiene was not strictly observed either - something we already saw from "sprawling on their couches" (seruchim al arsotam): hygiene was hardly at the top of their priorities.
"And anoint themselves with the finest oils" - they would anoint their bodies with the choicest, best oils, namely balsam oil, which is considered the finest of oils, the prime and most exquisite of all oils and exceedingly expensive. "And are not grieved over the ruin of Joseph" - they paid no attention to the plight of the community, and did not mourn over the impending calamities and the future destruction awaiting Joseph. As we have already seen above, "He Who leads Joseph like a flock," the people of Samaria as a whole are referred to as "Joseph." At times, the entire people of Israel are called Joseph, because Joseph was the leader of the nation who sustained and kept everyone alive with the grain (shever) they purchased through him, and was thus considered their leader. We also saw another explanation: since the origin of the Northern Kingdom was from Ephraim - that is, Jeroboam - the prophet refers to them as Joseph.
The Malbim notes a precise grammatical nuance: there is a difference between lo chalu and lo nechlu. Nechlu is in the nif'al conjugation. Chalu denotes a full illness, whereas nechlu denotes a slight weakness or indisposition. The prophet comes to say that they did not experience even the slightest weakness or pang. If only you would feel some pain over the ruin of Joseph; if only you would be slightly sickened over the ruin of Joseph - yet even that was absent.
לָכֵן עַתָּה יִגְלוּ בְּרֹאשׁ גֹּלִים, וְסָר מִרְזַח סְרוּחִים׃ - Therefore now shall they go into exile at the head of the exiles, and the revelry of the sprawling shall pass away.
After describing their terrible deterioration, this is the reason why they are exiled before all others. "They shall go into exile at the head of the exiles" - the nations, as we saw at the beginning of the chapter, were exiled only later, whereas the people of Israel were exiled first, because their corruption was far greater and more defective than that of the other nations. This is just as Chazal said: when the people of Israel descend, they descend to the depths; and when they ascend, they ascend to the heavens. There is no middle ground for the Jewish people. It is impossible to remain static like a gentile. A gentile nation can remain static even for two thousand years, but for the people of Israel there is no such thing: either you are at the pinnacle of greatness, or you are at rock bottom, brought low before everyone else, but a static state does not exist.
Therefore, "they shall go into exile at the head of the exiles" - because our state is worse than that of the nations. For the nations, as we saw in the Malbim's explanation of "who put off the evil day" (hamnaddim leyom ra), devised strategies and took measures to distance the day of evil from themselves, refraining from multiplying corrupt deeds. You, however, the people of Israel, multiplied your corruption, "and cause the seat of violence to draw near" (tagishun shevet chamas), bringing near the violence of Sennacherib or Nebuchadnezzar to come upon you swiftly.
And what is the meaning of "and the revelry of the sprawling shall pass away" (vesar marze'ach seruchim)? The Malbim explains: by being exiled from their land, the banquets and feasts they held for those sprawling women came to an end. For as we saw, they would bring sprawling harlots onto their couches and hold banquets and feasts every day; now, this revelry will be removed.
And what is a marze'ach? Rashi explains, citing the Sifrei, that marze'ach denotes feasts, and a beit marze'ach is a banquet hall. That is one explanation. On the other hand, Chazal explain that marze'ach denotes mourning: upon those who were sprawling on their couches, a marze'ach - a day of mourning - will now come and draw near. But seemingly, does not yisur (or sar) mean to turn away or depart? To this the Radak explains that it is like "turn aside, sit down here" (surah shevah poh) and "let me turn aside now and see" (asurah na ve'ereh), for turning aside (lasur) can also signify approaching. If so, a marze'ach of mourning will draw near to them - to those who were sprawling on their couches indulging in pleasures.
The Radak cites yet another explanation: sar marze'ach from the word for leadership (serarah) - that the mourner sits and reclines at the head. And who are the seruchim? Those who remain here after someone's death, for what remains is called an excess residue (serach odef), as it were, surviving after his death. The mourner is the leader (sar) sitting at the head of the survivors (seruchim), at the head of those remaining after the person's passing. A third explanation: marze'ach denotes joy and revelry, not mourning, which aligns more closely with Rashi's explanation that marze'ach means banquets. For if we were to say that mourning will depart from them, the Radak notes that this would make no sense, since the prophet is prophesying calamity for them. Therefore, he explains that marze'ach means joy and revelry, and "and the revelry of the sprawling shall pass away" (vesar marze'ach seruchim) means that joy and revelry will depart from those sprawled on their couches.
We have already seen these interpretations of marze'ach above, and we noted how the Malbim synthesizes all the opinions. The Malbim explains: a marze'ach is a feast, and this feast was held in two situations - either at a time of joy or at a time of mourning. To comfort the mourner, wine was brought: "Give strong drink to the perishing, and wine to those bitter of soul" (Mishlei 31:6), and someone celebrating in joy would also bring wine. It turns out that both interpretations are correct: marze'ach denotes an occasion observed both in mourning and in celebration.
There is an additional explanation of the word marze'ach, viewing it as a four-letter quadriliteral root. There is a well-known dispute among grammarians whether a four-letter root truly exists, or whether every such root is actually composed of two distinct roots. Accordingly, here too, marze'ach - mem, resh, zayin, chet - is not a single base root, and some explain that it is formed from two words: mar (bitter) and zach (to remove or shift). Mar denotes bitterness, and zach denotes removal and displacement, as in lehazi'ach (to shift), zachah da'ato alav, mezi'ach afikim (Iyov 12:21), and lo yizach hachoshen ("the breastplate shall not be loosened", Shemot 28:28) - all expressions of removal and shifting. Thus, when a person attends the feast and drinks wine, his bitterness is shifted and removed from him. This is mar-zach: the bitterness departs and goes away.
The chapter opens with a profound wonder: Why did Israel go into exile at the head of all exiles, ahead of all the surrounding nations, contrary to the usual logic of a conquering monarch? The prophet's answer is that this very defiance of logic proves Divine providence at work. "Pass to Calneh and see" - look closely and recognize that there is no coincidence here. The reason is clarified further on: the nations "put off the evil day", making efforts to distance calamity, whereas Israel "brings near the seat of violence" - dismissing the day of judgment while ushering in injustice. From that point onward, the prophet depicts the peak of moral decay: beds of ivory and sprawling couches, gluttony and carousing with bowls of wine, music played entirely for indulgence rather than for the sake of Heaven, and anointing with the finest oils - and yet, "they were not grieved for the ruin of Joseph"; not even the slightest ache of pain for the communal plight was found among them. Therefore, "now they shall go into exile at the head of the exiles," and their feast and revelry shall be removed, for the Jewish people know no middle ground: they are either at the pinnacle of heights, or plunged to the very bottom ahead of all others.