The Haftarah Project: Vayishlah—Holy Rage and Moral Boundaries
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The book of Ovadia is a short but pungent rage prophecy, enjoining the people to take up war against the nation of Edom. There is no conclusive data, but scholarly consensus dates this text to the sixth century BCE. This historical placement prompts us to read the prophet’s vitriol as a reaction to the first Babylonian exile, and the subsequent destruction of Jerusalem. At only 22 verses, the prophecy of Ovadia is the slightest book of Tanakh. Still, it might be difficult for us to stomach. We have witnessed a lot of violence in our time. With it, we have felt deep social fractures, and our sense of security wane. The book of Ovadia holds the affronting suggestion that the path towards justice, which we long for so deeply then and now, is indeed a violent one. In reading this text we are faced with the question; does Divine justice require our vengeance?
The more I sit with this chapter, the more the prophet’s critique of Edom reads less like a call to arms, and more as a distinction of moral boundary. Like a politician denouncing an opponent to clarify values for their own supporters, Ovadia uses Edom to articulate what Israel must not become.
So, who were the Edomites and what was their great offense from which we are deriving our own moral boundary? Before Babylonian conquest, Edom was situated between Judah and Moab, spanning across present day southern Israel and Jordan. After the conquest, Edom moved deeper into Judah, as the towns laid desolate from exile. Edom is not the only nation to overtake the land that once belonged to the Judahites, yet Edom’s particular lineage as descendants of Esav, rips open an ancient wound of familial betrayal. Verses 11-15 of the text offer us a timeline of the betrayal, portraying Edom first as a passive bystander to the violence against Israel, and then marking their progression into greater offence.
“On that day when you stood aloof, when aliens carried off his goods, when foreigners entered his gates and cast lots for Jerusalem, you were as one of them. How could you gaze with glee on your brother that day, on his day of calamity!How could you gloat over the people of Judah on that day of ruin! How could you loudly jeer on a day of anguish! How could you enter the gate of My people on its day of disaster, gaze in glee with the others on its misfortune on its day of disaster, and lay hands on its wealth on its day of disaster! How could you stand at the passes to cut down its fugitives! How could you betray those who fled on that day of anguish!”
Edom starts off as a bystander amongst the other nations, and then descends deeper into moral and territorial enmeshment with them, until eventually they too carry out the terror against Israel. The outrage that Ovadia expresses towards Edom, is not as a born enemy, but as a brother, who has watched their sibling slip further into the amoral behaviors of their surrounding nations. By laying out this sequence, Ovadia shows how moral failure begins with apathy and slowly slides into full complicity. The prophet’s anger gives the people a needed catharsis, but it also sketches a boundary: This is the path you must not follow.
Even if the grievances against Edom function as a warning towards Israel’s behavior in their new exilic setting, the incitement of violence on behalf of God cannot be read out of this text. I find the language of verse four particularly fear-inducing. “Should you nest as high as the eagle, Should your eyrie be lodged among the stars, even from there I will pull you down—declares God.” It is not Israel alone whom Edom should fear. God, Godself is committing to doing the dirty work of rooting out Edom from their lofty place.
As much as I’d like to think that relationship to a violent God has fallen out of fashion in our time, when I look at the recent history of our people, I see that it is very much still alive. I believe deeply in our capacity for peace and goodness. However, as a people, we have yet to overcome the notion that it is just to commit violence against others who have harmed and hated us. I get the sense that Ovadia saw this problem in his time too. I wonder if it is possible for us to acknowledge the power of God’s rage and desire to stay with and protect us, without ourselves giving into violence and partaking in the tearing down of others?
Perhaps, the teaching of Ovadia is attempting to do just that. In this chapter Ovadia is insisting that the longing for justice is holy, but the path to it should not give way to the politics of fear or revenge. God may indeed call us to oppose forces of evil, but Ovadia insists that doing so in imitation or partnership with the powerful who prey on the weak turns victims into replicas of their oppressors. The prophecy thus stands as both lament and safeguard: a reminder of how easily the aggrieved can become aggressors, and an insistence that true justice demands fidelity not only to the wrong suffered, but to the moral vision that defines the people of Israel.
Editor’s Note: The reflections from the Haftarah Project represent the thoughts and opinions of the author.