Introduction
In this section of the chapter, Yirmiyahu transitions from rebuke to vivid description. First, he identifies the root of the malady: a wise nation - yet wise only to do evil. From there, he envisions the impending destruction, a ruin that the Malbim shows is described as a reverse mirror of the six days of Creation: everything created is undone. Yet within all this terror lies a promise: "Yet I will not make a full end" - the land will be desolate, but the people of Israel will endure. Let us proceed through the verses in order.
"For My People Are Foolish" - Four Categories in the Human Psyche
כִּי אֱוִיל עַמִּי אוֹתִי לֹא יָדָעוּ בָּנִים סְכָלִים הֵמָּה וְלֹא נְבוֹנִים הֵמָּה חֲכָמִים הֵמָּה לְהָרַע וּלְהֵיטִיב לֹא יָדָעוּ׃ - "For My people are foolish, they do not know Me; they are senseless children, and they have no understanding; they are wise to do evil, but to do good they know not."
The Radak explains: Had they been wise, they would have recognized the good path, and through that, they would have known Me. That is, they would have known that everything happening to them comes from Me, and they would have understood that the only address to remove their distress is to turn to Me - for I bestow good and I bring calamity. But since "My people are foolish," therefore "they do not know Me": all the afflictions come upon them, yet they fail to realize that they stem from Me.
"They are senseless children" - why does He call them children? Because "You are children to Hashem your God." They are children, yet senseless, devoid of understanding. "They are wise to do evil, but to do good they know not" - all of their intellect and wisdom is exploited for evil, whereas the true purpose of wisdom and understanding is to utilize them in the service of Hashem and His ways. As it is said elsewhere: "Behold, they have rejected the word of Hashem, and what wisdom is in them?" And as the prophet Yeshayahu says: "And they strike hands with the children of foreigners" - meaning they went to study the wisdoms of the nations, wisdoms of cunning and deceit used to do harm, rather than knowledge that brings recognition of Hashem's path.
In his commentary on Mishlei, the Malbim elaborates on the precise definitions of the evil (fool), sachal (senseless person), navon (person of understanding), and chacham (wise person), revisiting them frequently. Let us explain according to those principles. "For My people are foolish (evil)" - they lack da'at, the clear conviction needed to comprehend the judgment of Hashem. What is the essence of an evil? The Malbim explains on several occasions that evil is related to ulai ("perhaps"). The evil is the eternal skeptic, the one who is never certain: "True, perhaps, but there are other viewpoints, other philosophies, nothing is definitive, and there is no proof..." He casts ambiguity and doubt over everything, and consequently, it is never certain that Hashem commanded this, nor is it certain that this is the Torah. By conjuring doubts regarding every matter, he seeks to evade the obligation to observe the Torah and mitzvot - everything to him remains a "perhaps."
This is the exact opposite of da'at. Da'at is lucid, absolute knowledge, an axiom: two plus two equals four. Da'at is something that requires no further proof; it is complete and self-evident. Therefore, "For My people are foolish (evil)" - the skeptic - and consequently, "they do not know Me," as they possess no clear knowledge.
They also lack binah (understanding). Binah, as the Malbim explains in several places, is the intellectual faculty acquired through contemplation. Binah shares a root with hitbonenut (deep observation): through focused reflection and depth of thought, one deduces one concept from another (davar mitoch davar). Therefore, immediately following "they are senseless children" comes "and they have no understanding (lo nevonim heimah)" - they lack the analytical power to extrapolate one truth from another.
From this one can also understand "they do not know Me": because they lack binah, through which one can attain knowledge of Hashem. After all, it is possible to perceive Hashem through rigorous inquiry, as the Chovot HaLevavot notes in Sha'ar HaYichud - philosophical contemplation can lead one to recognize Hashem. This is how Avraham Avinu discovered his Creator: he observed the sun, the moon, the clouds, and all the celestial bodies, asking which of them governs us, until he concluded that there must be a Master of the palace who controls everything. But because they lack the binah to deduce one concept from another, they fail to reach the proper conclusions.
Yet what is the primary path to knowing Hashem? Through kabbalah - tradition. The reference here is not to esoteric mysticism, but to the received tradition passed down from generation to generation: what was transmitted to us from Moshe Rabbeinu and the prophets. This is termed chochmah. For there are many truths for which no empirical proof can be provided - as the Malbim explains at length in Mishlei, there are numerous concepts that cannot be proven by independent deduction, and it is precisely there that tradition is indispensable. This applies above all to morality: what is decent and what is indecent, what is moral and what is immoral, what is right and what is wrong. This is a sphere subject to endless debate, where plausible arguments can be made for opposing views.
Consider an example of a dilemma in the realm of morality. A sixteen-year-old girl becomes pregnant out of wedlock. One person might argue: Should she really give birth? First of all, why should a girl of that age endure the agony and trauma of childbirth, and then bear the knowledge that she has a child abandoned in an orphanage whom she never raised, whom she does not know, and who does not know his mother? And why inflict misery on this child, who will almost certainly drift into a life of crime? Morally speaking, this person would argue, the pregnancy should be terminated. But another person will respond: Just because someone is inconvenient to you, or might grow up to be a criminal, does that justify murdering him right now? That is essentially what you are proposing: to kill him because his future is not paved with roses. After all, there are entire neighborhoods where the children's prospects are grim - should we murder them too? Is murder a moral solution? Here lies an acute moral dilemma. We know the resolution because we have the Torah. Yet individuals who lack the Torah will argue with utter certainty in favor of abortion, entirely out of "moral" considerations. Thus we see that in certain areas, particularly regarding good and evil, tradition is essential - that which we received from Moshe Rabbeinu and the prophets, wisdom that is unequivocally known to have been handed down from Heaven.
Therefore the prophet says: "They are wise to do evil, but to do good they have no knowledge." Wisdom pertains to the governance of the soul, knowing good and evil - as we discussed regarding mussar. Yet they always direct their wisdom toward evil, and their conclusions are always to do evil. "And to do good they have no knowledge" - since their wisdom is not received from a higher spiritual power, not received from the prophets and Moshe Rabbeinu, its results are inevitably always toward evil.
Depicting the Destruction as the Reverse Order of Creation
רָאִיתִי אֶת־הָאָרֶץ וְהִנֵּה־תֹהוּ וָבֹהוּ וְאֶל־הַשָּׁמַיִם וְאֵין אוֹרָם׃ - I beheld the earth, and behold, it was formless and void; and to the heavens, and they had no light.
Here the prophet depicts the destruction, as if the entire creation brought into being during the six days of Genesis has been completely destroyed. The Malbim explains: Notice how he describes creation according to the order of its formation in Sefer Bereishis, except that now he depicts it in a process of destruction. Creation began in the first two days: "And the spirit of God hovered over the face of the waters," and everything was tohu vavohu, formless and void, entirely covered by water. And behold, I see the situation reverting to its primordial state - "I beheld the earth, and behold, it was formless and void," everything returning to the beginning. Afterward came "And God said: Let there be light," but now I look up to the heavens - "and they had no light." The state of tohu vavohu has returned, and the "Let there be light" has also been nullified.
רָאִיתִי הֶהָרִים וְהִנֵּה רֹעֲשִׁים וְכׇל־הַגְּבָעוֹת הִתְקַלְקָלוּ׃ - I beheld the mountains, and behold, they were trembling, and all the hills were moved about.
On the third day, the waters parted and dry land began to form, and through this, mountains and hills arose above the surface of the water, as it is written: "Mountains rose, valleys sank, to the place You established for them." Here the prophet proceeds to the third day: instead of stable mountains, "and behold, they were trembling" - as though the waters were returning to cover the land and wash away the mountains. "And all the hills were moved about [hitkalkalu]" - from the root kal (lightweight). What keeps mountains and hills stable? Their immense weight. Yet here, due to their seeming weightlessness, they vanished and were swept away; there are no hills and no mountains.
The Malbim notes: Up to this point, we progressed from the first day to the third day, but from here on, we start from the sixth day and descend. Why? Because from this point forward, he speaks according to their importance relative to the ultimate purpose. And what was the ultimate purpose for which the world was created? Man. Therefore, he now begins from the sixth day.
רָאִיתִי וְהִנֵּה אֵין הָאָדָם וְכׇל־עוֹף הַשָּׁמַיִם נָדָדוּ׃ - I beheld, and behold, there was no man, and all the birds of the heavens had fled.
On the sixth day, man was created - "and behold, there was no man"; the human realm [medaber] has vanished and ceased to exist. "And all the birds of the heavens had fled" - he now descends one level to speak of animal life [chai], and the category most distant from man is the birds of the heavens, which were created on the fifth day.
רָאִיתִי וְהִנֵּה הַכַּרְמֶל הַמִּדְבָּר וְכׇל־עָרָיו נִתְּצוּ מִפְּנֵי יְהֹוָה מִפְּנֵי חֲרוֹן אַפּוֹ׃ - I beheld, and behold, the fruitful land was a wilderness, and all its cities were torn down before Hashem, before His fierce anger.
Now he explains the devastation of plant life: "The Carmel" - known to us as Mount Carmel (or the fertile land) - has reverted to being like a wilderness. Where are the plants, where are the vegetables, where are the grasses? From here he descends another level to the inanimate realm [domem]. This does not mean inanimate objects like stones created as such during the six days of Genesis, but rather inanimate structures made by human hands: the cities and towers that we built. "And all its cities were torn down" - the inanimate dimension was also shattered. And if you wish to know how all this destruction occurred, how everything became tohu vavohu and everything perished - inanimate, plant, animal, and human - Scripture tells you: "Before Hashem, before His fierce anger." None of this happened by natural causes, but by the providence of Hashem, and because of His fierce anger.
Rashi: The Merits of the Patriarchs Have Run Out
Rashi explains that everything written here alludes to the Patriarchs and Matriarchs. "I saw the mountains, and behold, they were quaking" - Chazal say, the mountains are the Patriarchs. "And all the hills were moved" - these are the Matriarchs. And what is being said here? That the merit of the Patriarchs has run out. As it were, we lean on mountains - "I lift my eyes to the mountains" - these are the holy Patriarchs whose merit we rely upon, and behold, I see that they are no longer there, that they are quaking, and we no longer have the merit of the Patriarchs. And the merit of the Matriarchs, the hills, has also been undermined and exhausted. "I looked, and behold, there was no man" - this is Moshe Rabbeinu, of whom it is said, "more humble than any man," and his merit is no longer operating either. "And behold, the fruitful field was a wilderness, and all its cities were broken down before Hashem" - who performed signs and wonders on the Carmel? Eliyahu. And his merit, as it were, was also torn down, and we do not have it to repair and save the land.
Let us mention one more point. The Radak explains that "its cities were broken down [natatzu]" refers to breaking and destruction. But the Targum implies that he interprets natatzu as an expression of burning. How so? Like interchangeable verbs: natatzu is like nitzatu ("were ignited"). Just as there is a single word used in two opposite directions, like leshareish, which means either to take root in the soil or to uproot roots, so it is here. Actually, the more precise example is letter metathesis, like keves and kesev (lamb), or salmah and simlah (garment) - the same word appearing in two forms. So too with lehatzit and lintoetz, and according to the context here, the meaning of both is burning.
"Yet I Will Not Make a Full End"
כִּי־כֹה אָמַר יְהֹוָה שְׁמָמָה תִהְיֶה כׇּל־הָאָרֶץ וְכָלָה לֹא אֶעֱשֶׂה׃ - For thus said Hashem: The whole land shall be desolate, yet I will not make a full end.
The land will be desolate, but despite all this - I will not make a full end of the Jewish people. The Holy One, blessed be He, poured out His wrath upon wood and stones, not upon the people of Israel. Although we saw a description where everything ceases to exist, know that everything said there refers only to the land: chaos and void, the mountains shaking, the hills unsettled, no man, the birds of the heavens fled, the fruitful field desolate, its cities broken down. And despite all this, the Holy One, blessed be He, says: Yet I will not make a full end of Israel. The Jewish people will still endure, and the Holy One, blessed be He, will spare a remnant - those refugees who will go into exile, as Radak explains. And this is the promise: "And yet for all that, when they are in the land of their enemies, I will not reject them, nor will I abhor them, to destroy them utterly." Total destruction, complete annihilation - such a thing will under no circumstances occur. The reality will be that only the land will suffer, while the nation will endure and go into exile.
"And I Have Not Relented, Nor Will I Turn Back from It" - A Decree Without Retraction
עַל־זֹאת תֶּאֱבַל הָאָרֶץ וְקָדְרוּ הַשָּׁמַיִם מִמָּעַל עַל כִּי־דִבַּרְתִּי זַמֹּתִי וְלֹא נִחַמְתִּי וְלֹא־אָשׁוּב מִמֶּנָּה׃ - For this shall the earth mourn, and the heavens above be dark; because I have spoken it, I have purposed it, and I have not relented, nor will I turn back from it.
"The earth shall mourn" - the land will be ruined. "Because I have spoken it, I have purposed [zamoti] it" - what I spoke to the prophets is as I purposed; zamoti is from the language of thought: just as I thought, so I spoke, so shall it befall the land, and the earth will mourn. "And the heavens above be dark" - the heavens will blacken and their countenance will be gloomy, which is an expression of the magnitude of the distress.
And here the Malbim offers a wonderful explanation, an entire conceptual framework; listen closely. What is the meaning of "I have spoken it, I have purposed it, and I have not relented, nor will I turn back from it"? The Malbim explains: there is a fundamental difference between a decree of good and a decree of evil, between an intended good and an intended punishment. The good that the Holy One, blessed be He, destinies for us - He desires for its own sake, for Hashem truly desires to bestow good, since He is the perfection of goodness and therefore seeks to do good. Conversely, when Hashem intends to bring calamity, He does not desire it for its own sake, for in truth Hashem wants only to do good for us; rather, He brings hardship in order to ultimately achieve good through it: so that they will repent and mend their ways.
It follows, then, that when the Holy One, blessed be He, announces good that is to come, His mouth and His thought are aligned, for Hashem truly desires to bestow good and also declares that He will do good, and this reflects His genuine will. But when Hashem says He will bring calamity, His mouth and His thought are not identical. His mouth says: I will bring calamity. But His thought, as it were, says: If only I did not need to bring calamity, if only I could bestow only good upon this people! In His thought, the Holy One, blessed be He, hopes and yearns not to bring the calamity, for hardship is not an end in itself, but a means to reach the ultimate good - that we repent. When Hashem says, "there will be calamity," deep within, as it were, He says: I do not want calamity to befall them; I want only for them to repent without My having to bring calamity.
From here, says the Malbim, notice a very interesting nuance. Later, in chapter 18, it is written: "At one moment I speak concerning a nation, and concerning a kingdom, to pluck up, and to pull down... and if that nation turn from its evil... I will relent of the evil that I thought to do to it. And at one moment I speak concerning a nation, and concerning a kingdom, to build and to plant... and if it do that which is evil in My sight... I will relent of the good wherewith I said I would benefit them." Did you notice the difference? Regarding calamity, the text uses the term of thought - "that I thought," whereas regarding good, it uses the term of speech - "wherewith I said."
And the reason is: regarding good, the Holy One, blessed be He, relents only from what He said, not from what He thought. "I will relent of the good wherewith I said" - I relent from what I spoke, but not from what I thought, for in My thoughts I always think to do good. Regarding calamity, however, in His inner thought the Holy One, blessed be He, truly wants to bring us good and has no desire to bring calamity. Therefore it says, "I will relent of the evil that I thought": I relent even from what I thought, because in truth, from the very beginning, My thoughts are only for good. The thought is always good, and only the spoken word may sometimes decree calamity and sometimes good. But the thought - that is, the inner intent - is always and exclusively for good.
According to this, any plan Hashem devises to bring harm is subject to regret and reconsidering, meaning that the Holy One, blessed be He, immediately intends to retract the harm if people improve their deeds. This is a harm that always carries the possibility of being reversed and altered, because there is no absolute desire to bring harm, and the Holy One, blessed be He, does not seek to bring about evil. Since the harm that Hashem devises is a harm whose ultimate purpose is good, the intent to bring harm is always provisional and never absolute. In contrast, bringing good is an absolute decree, for Hashem always desires to bestow good. It follows that the harm planned by the Holy One, blessed be He, is conditional, never absolute: if you mend your ways, no harm will come. Had the harm been absolute - a finalized decree of total destruction - it would be impossible to change it. And why are we able to alter the impending harm? Because the harm is conditional.
Yet here, the Malbim notes, we see something different. The Holy One, blessed be He, designates harm - the destruction of the land - and issues an absolute decree, with no possibility of reconsidering and no turning back, even if they improve their ways: "For this the earth shall mourn, and the heavens above be dark; because I have spoken it, I have purposed it" - I conceived it in My thought - "and I will not repent, neither will I turn back from it." This is entirely different from any harm the Holy One, blessed be He, spoke of until now, which was always conditional and always subject to relent and retraction. Here, the Holy One, blessed be He, says: This is not a decree that allows for change.
And what is the explanation? The Malbim explains based on the teaching of Chazal: the destruction of the land was precisely what prevented the Holy One, blessed be He, from venting His wrath upon the people; instead, He poured it out upon wood and stone. "The whole land shall be desolate, yet will I not make a full end" - because the land will be desolate, this itself shields the people of Israel from annihilation. If so, this is extraordinary: we established that the Holy One, blessed be He, does not retract something good, and that only harm is fundamentally subject to change. But that applies when something is inherently harmful, in which case it can be averted by reforming one's ways. Here, however, the very fact that the Holy One, blessed be He, vents His wrath upon wood and stone is itself the ultimate good, for through it the people of Israel are protected and not annihilated. It emerges that the purpose here is not harm, but good, and therefore there is no room to relent. On the contrary - if He were to relent, Heaven forbid: if He relented from the decree to lay waste to the land, the people of Israel would be consumed, God forbid. Therefore, the Holy One, blessed be He, declares: This is something I will not relent from. Thus, although it appears as a harsh decree of destruction, there is no greater goodness than this, for it guarantees that Israel will not perish. Therefore, "I have spoken it, I have purposed it, and I will not repent, neither will I turn back from it" - for this matter, no change is possible.
Fleeing from a Single Sound
מִקּוֹל פָּרָשׁ וְרֹמֵה קֶשֶׁת בֹּרַחַת כׇּל־הָעִיר בָּאוּ בֶּעָבִים וּבַכֵּפִים עָלוּ כׇּל־הָעִיר עֲזוּבָה וְאֵין־יוֹשֵׁב בָּהֵן אִישׁ׃ - At the sound of the horseman and the archer, the whole city flees; they enter into the thickets and climb up into the rocks; every city is forsaken, and not a man dwells therein.
"Horseman" [parash] refers to the enemy cavalry advancing to conquer. "The archer" [romeh keshet] refers to those shooting bows, from the root of casting or hurling, as in "horse and its rider He hurled [ramah] into the sea." "The whole city flees; they enter into the thickets [avim]" - avim means forests, because forests are thick [avim]. Radak also cites another explanation: they went to hide, as it were, in the clouds [avim], an exaggerated expression meaning wherever possible, even in a cloud. "And climb up into the rocks [kafim]" - kafim are boulders or cliffs, as Targum translates, kifaya. They flee and search for places to hide, whether in woodlands or among rocks, from the enemies descending upon the city.
Radak explains that although the verse uses the singular - "horseman," "archer" - the meaning is collective, plural, like "And I had ox and donkey," where no one thinks he possessed only a single ox and a single donkey, and like "And the frog came up," which does not denote a single frog (except according to the Midrash of Rabbi Akiva). Out of the dread of what they hear - "the whole city flees."
The Malbim, however, does not explain it this way. He explains that a terrifying scene is being depicted here: after all the cities surrounding Jerusalem had already been destroyed, and the inhabitants of Jerusalem and its surrounding villages had fled before the enemy, there were still those who went to hide in the Fortress of Zion, a walled citadel within Jerusalem, confident that the enemy could do nothing to them there. The Malbim explains that "at the sound of a horseman" is indeed meant in the singular: know that the mere sound of a single horseman and a single archer - without even sighting him, merely hearing his sound - was already enough to cause them to flee the city. This illustrates how dire the situation was, that the sound of a single horseman triggered a mass flight. And they did not merely flee across open fields; rather, "they enter into the thickets" - retreating into forests, into densely wooded areas, and from there "climb up into the rocks" - ascending the high cliffs. And lest you think this was temporary, Scripture states: "Every city is forsaken" - completely abandoned, "and not a man dwells therein" - not a single person remained, nor was this a brief departure with plans to return.
"In Vain Do You Make Yourself Beautiful" - The Illusion That Beauty Will Save
וְאַתְּ שָׁדוּד מַה־תַּעֲשִׂי כִּי־תִלְבְּשִׁי שָׁנִי כִּי־תַעְדִּי עֲדִי־זָהָב כִּי־תִקְרְעִי בַפּוּךְ עֵינַיִךְ לַשָּׁוְא תִּתְיַפִּי מָאֲסוּ־בָךְ עֹגְבִים נַפְשֵׁךְ יְבַקֵּשׁוּ׃ - And you, ruined one, what will you do? Though you clothe yourself with scarlet, though you deck yourself with ornaments of gold, though you enlarge your eyes with paint, in vain do you make yourself beautiful; your paramours despise you, they seek your life.
The Malbim already noted in the previous verse that only one woman remained in the city, a harlot confident in her beauty, assuming that the approaching enemy would covet her beauty and spare her. Here the prophet says to her: "And you, ruined one, what will you do?" - after the pillagers have already plundered everything you own, what do you have left? Only a garment of scarlet and a piece of jewelry, an ornament of gold. And what will they avail you, seeing as the enemy will strip those away as well? "Though you enlarge your eyes with paint" - kohl [puch] is a type of pigment applied to the eyes, and the commentators explain that it is called "enlarging" [literally "tearing," tikre'i] because to apply it, one must open the eye as wide as possible, as if tearing it open. Do you imagine that through this you will find favor in their eyes? To this it is said, "In vain do you make yourself beautiful." The paramours, those lovers in whose eyes you seek favor, have despised you. And the reason: they do not desire your beauty; rather, "they seek your life" - they wish to kill you. You have no prospect of being saved by your charms, for they arrive with only one intent: to kill.
Radak addresses the grammatical anomaly: "Ve'at shadud" - grammatically, it should have said either atah shadud (masculine) or at shedudah (feminine). Some suggested interpreting it as "and you are like one plundered" [ke-shadud], with an implied kaf of comparison, meaning you resemble a plundered man, which would account for the masculine form. But Radak states that this is unnecessary, for Keneset Yisrael (the Congregation of Israel) is sometimes referred to in the masculine and sometimes in the feminine, both of which are valid. One may speak of her as a beloved bride, as in Shir HaShirim, using feminine phrasing, or speak of the "people of Israel" [Am Yisrael] using masculine phrasing.
The Radak describes their state at that time: they had fallen into complete despair, seeing no chance of protection or salvation. For in such a state, they should have donned sackcloth and returned to God in complete repentance - yet come and see that they did nothing of the sort. They did not anticipate any salvation and did not believe in any rescue, and concerning this it is said: you shall not wear scarlet, nor shall you adorn yourself with gold.
The prophet describes that all the words of the prophets did not speak to them at all; they viewed them as mere pipe dreams, something that would never happen. And so Yeshayahu testifies about them: "And behold, joy and gladness, slaying cattle and slaughtering sheep." And they would say: "We have made a covenant with death, and with Sheol we have made an agreement; when the scouring scourge passes through, it shall not reach us." Don't worry, everything will be fine. "Those who drink from basins of wine" - they were self-assured, tranquil, and complacent. They were told that there was death and danger, and they replied: Don't worry, we made a pact with death, we have a contract with it, it will not enter here. Consider what an illusion: a contract with Gehenna, and an overwhelming scourge that passes through will not harm us at all.
We have already mentioned several times that a person somehow always feels that everything around him is temporary, while he himself is permanent. As a certain prime minister once told his nation: "I came to stay." At the stage when the people decided they no longer wanted him, he said: Do not be confused, I do not intend to go anywhere, do not rejoice prematurely. He did not remain for long, but let us realize that man always harbors this illusion.
The Zohar states: "A person walks through this world and thinks that it belongs to him and that he will remain in it for generations upon generations" - a person walks about in the world with the illusion that the world belongs to him and that he will remain here forever; everyone else is transient, but he is eternal. And this is astonishing, for one can see this even with terminally ill patients, may Hashem protect us, and may Hashem send a complete recovery to all the sick of His people Israel. Such a person does not internalize that he is about to depart, and it always comes as a surprise to him, even though the doctors explicitly tell him his condition. It is understandable that a healthy person feels he will be here for another seventy or a hundred years, and it does not seem to him at all that he is about to leave. But an intelligent person who has already been informed that he is terminally ill - and you see that he makes no preparations whatsoever. He does not write a will, and if he intends to - when? Next year? The doctors are speaking to him in terms of months! And suddenly, after two months, systemic collapse occurs, and the story is over.
This is just to help us understand how deeply ingrained in man is the feeling: "I am staying; I am not going." And if he truly had even a glimmer of the feeling that he is about to leave, his entire spiritual life would be transformed, and you would see how he utilizes every moment. But you see a person a few months before the end, and what does he say to you? There are still many documents I need to sort out, there are still many matters to attend to. Master of the Universe, moments before the encounter on High - is this what troubles you? Who will care later about what you left behind? How many prayers are needed to pass that encounter in peace! Truly, this is no small privilege, for normally no man knows his time, yet this person knows his time and is able to prepare. And despite all this, he has errands, he needs to go to the bank, he needs to go here - business as usual. Man's power of denial is formidable. The doctors told you? Yes, well, doctors make mistakes sometimes, too. He will not say this out loud, but in his mind, he is staying here.
This was the reality back then. The prophet delivers harsh warnings, proclaiming future calamities, yet among them there is joy and gladness, slaying cattle and slaughtering sheep, having steaks - at least let there be a little sadness! But they say: We have made a covenant with death, everything will be fine.
Assimilating with the Nations to Find Favor
The Radak further compares the Congregation of Israel to a harlot, who attempted to emulate the idolaters in her deeds to find favor in their eyes, hoping that perhaps in this way the nations would not persecute her. Notice that this is nothing new: Herzl was not the first genius to think of this; it preceded him by far. Herzl said: We suffer from persecution by the nations because we are distant and different from them; let us enter St. John's church on a Sunday to the ringing of bells, conduct a mass conversion of the Jewish people, and all become Christians to the sound of violin and organ, and we will have solved the antisemitic problem. If there are no Jews, there are no antisemites. Very logical - absolute genius, how did we not think of this before?
There was just one small problem. Once, the mice suffered greatly from the cat; for many years they suffered, until a genius mouse arose and said he had the ideal solution: Let us buy a bell and tie it around the cat's neck, and whenever he approaches, we will hear him. For the cat comes quietly from behind, strikes, and that is the end of it; this way, we will have no surprises. An ideal idea, except that no volunteer could be found to tie the bell around the cat's neck. So too, Herzl's idea was ingenious, except that he could not find a nation willing to stretch out its neck to the slaughter and say: Take us and slaughter us; as of tomorrow, we are Christians, and we willingly accept the false religion. The slaughter of the Jewish people through pleasant ways. Baruch Hashem, he did not find such a nation.
Thus, already back then, the Congregation of Israel was emulating the practices of the nations, as the Radak writes: to worship their gods, to wear their garments, to aggrandize and boast before them with fine clothing and magnificent chariots, so that they would love her and say, "Behold, she is like us." Look, we are just like you; do you not see that we are no different? Perhaps you will love us. But the prophet tells them: "Your lovers have despised you; they seek your life" - "lovers" (ogvim) relates to lust and harlotry. On the contrary, the exact opposite of what you thought will occur. The Radak explains: You removed your trust from Hashem and trusted in the nations, and look - "Where are their gods, the rock in whom they trusted... let them arise and help you, let them be your shelter." Anything other than Hashem, blessed is He, in which you seek refuge, the Holy One, blessed is He, casts aside: Go to the one you trusted, and ask him to help you.
A Voice Like a Woman in Labor - The Breaching of the City as Childbirth
כִּי קוֹל כְּחוֹלָה שָׁמַעְתִּי צָרָה כְּמַבְכִּירָה קוֹל בַּת־צִיּוֹן תִּתְיַפֵּחַ תְּפָרֵשׂ כַּפֶּיהָ אוֹי־נָא לִי כִּי־עָיְפָה נַפְשִׁי לְהֹרְגִים׃ - For I have heard a voice like a woman in labor, distress like one giving birth to her firstborn, the voice of the daughter of Zion gasping for breath, spreading out her hands: "Woe is me now, for my soul faints before the killers!"
"Ke-cholah" (like a woman in travail) - from the expression of trembling and anguish. "Tzarah ke-mavkirah" (anguish as of one bearing her first child) - a mavkirah is a woman giving birth for the first time, and as is well known, the first birth is always the most difficult, because her womb opens for the very first time, which involves immense, overwhelming agony. Therefore, this is not merely "a voice like a woman in travail," but anguish as of a woman bearing her first child, whose cries are loud and piercing. "Tetapach" (gasping) - moaning, weeping, and lamenting over the slain. Radak explains that it is related to "ve-yafe'ach la-ketz" (it will speak of the end), and Rashi cites "ve-yafe'ach chamas" - speaking violence, uttering violence, from the notion of breathing forth from one's mouth, for when a person speaks he exhales from his mouth. Here too, "tetapach" is an expression of speech; while today we use it to denote weeping or sobbing, it evidently denotes an utterance of lamentation. And over what is the lament? Over the slain: "Woe is me now, for my soul faints before the killers!" - my soul is worn out from the suffering and the profound grief over the murderers who have already drawn near to me, and I no longer have the strength to bear this terror and immense catastrophe.
The Malbim explains the deeper meaning: The daughter of Zion remained alone after all the cities had fled. As we mentioned, the prophet compared her to a harlot who is confident that her beauty will protect her against the enemy; so too, the daughter of Zion thought the enemy would spare the glory of Zion, its splendor and beauty, and would not destroy it. In this they were mistaken, for the enemy came and breached the city wall, showing no pity for either the majesty or the beauty of Jerusalem. The prophet compares the breaching of the wall to a woman giving birth, whose womb opens and the child emerges: so too, the city was breached and the child emerged - the daughter of Zion went out from Jerusalem, and those who still remained within her are now going into exile.
Thus, "For I have heard a voice like a woman in travail" refers to a time of distress like a woman giving birth for the first time. Until now, she was in the state of one having difficult labor, where the fetus is still within her womb - meaning the enemy had not yet succeeded in breaching the wall; and even though a woman in hard labor already discharges blood and amniotic fluid - meaning Jerusalem had already shed blood - the fetus was still inside, and the daughter of Zion had not yet been exiled. But now we have heard "the voice of the daughter of Zion gasping, for my soul faints before the killers" - Nebuzaradan, the chief executioner, has arrived to slaughter a great slaughter among the people dwelling in Zion. And everything she thought would protect her, the beauty of the city, is gone: the city is breached like a woman bearing her first child, and through this the people go out into exile.
In summary:
The chapter opens with the root of the corruption: "For My people are foolish" - a nation that has lost clear understanding, insightful discernment, and the wisdom received from the prophets, leaving them only with the cleverness "to do evil." From this, the prophet depicts a devastation that is the complete undoing of Creation: chaos and void, the extinguishing of light, the quaking of the mountains, and the annihilation of man, animal, plant, and inanimate matter - all "before Hashem, before His fierce wrath," and as Rashi notes, also signifying that the merits of the Patriarchs, the Matriarchs, Moshe, and Eliyahu had run out. Yet at the very heart of the decree lies comfort: "The whole land shall be desolate, yet I will not make a full end" - the Holy One, Blessed be He, vents His wrath upon wood and stone rather than destroying the nation entirely. It is precisely here that it says, "neither have I repented, nor will I turn back from it," for this is the one decree that has no regret, because its ultimate purpose is good: the eternal survival of Israel. In stark contrast stands the illusion: the city that flees at the sound of a single horseman, adorning herself in vain with crimson, gold, and eye-paint in the hope of finding favor in the eyes of the enemy or the nations - "In vain do you make yourself fair; the lovers despise you, they seek your life." The moral lesson is piercing: whoever removes their trust from Hashem and places it in the nations, in charm, in wealth, or in the feeling that "I will remain here forever," will ultimately find themselves defenseless, and only a return to Hashem is true salvation.