By Rebbetzin Lauren Levin
There are those who may choose to leave the community, but there are many who leave the community because they have not been included in it and feel there is no place for them. Our haftara tells a story of ostracism, youth at risk, heroism, advocacy and tragedy caused by ignorance.
Yiftach has been excluded. As only a half-brother to the rest of his siblings, he is forced out. Alone, vulnerable and at risk, he falls into a bad crowd, described by the prophet as “idle fellows”[1]. Despite having rejected him, his brothers know where to find him when they need him. Clearly Yiftach possessed unusual physical strength and as such, facing military threat, they ask him if they will lead them in battle. Yiftach openly acknowledges how they are taking advantage of him – what will happen the day after? Will he be discarded again? In an act of self-preservation he agrees to be wartime leader, if when victorious he is kept on as a peacetime leader.
The next part of the story is surprising. We expect to see Yiftach launch into battle. Instead he reaches out to the Ammonites through diplomacy. Emulating Moses in the parsha[2] he tries to open dialogue with the surrounding nations with dignity and avoid confrontation. When he receives a negative and libellous reply, he jumps in as advocate correcting the misinformation, displaying a stellar knowledge of Jewish history and presenting it with both confidence and eloquence. Packing a punch of satirical brilliance the text challenges us – how often do we prejudge someone’s capability based on their social standing? Yiftach was propelled to leadership from left field in a time of crisis, but otherwise his incredible talents that are so evident from our verses would have been totally passed over. One positive element of our social media era is that it is an equaliser. The concept of ‘influencers’ is that everyone who can ‘hold their own’, creating interesting and appealing content is accepted, regardless of background, stature or societal acceptance.
Not only this, but Yiftach displays profound faith in God. One of the major themes in the book of Judges is that too much faith was put in the judge rather than God. Yiftach proclaims God as the ultimate Judge when he says: “I have done you no wrong; yet you are doing me harm and making war on me. May GOD, who judges, decide today between the Israelites and the Ammonites![3]”
An alienated half brother is not new to the book of Shoftim. Just two chapters earlier we read about Avimelekh, one of Gidon’s sons. Born in similar circumstances, the two characters could not be more different. Avimelekh chose to leave his paternal family, and then murdered his seventy half brothers in a bloody power grab. When compared with Avimlekh, Yiftach’s victimhood, resilience and nobility stand out.
And yet, perhaps because of his alienation, he lacks certain nuances. Where his foreign policy oratory is outstanding, his language at home has a certain crass hyperbole. He is so keen to do right, prove himself and be validated that his statements become bombastic. Had he just described God as the True Judge, it would have been a valiant statement of faith. However he then continues to say ‘May God decide between the Israelites and the Ammonites’. This phraseology was originally used by the matriarch Sarah, against her husband Abraham after her maidservant Hagar became pregnant. The Talmudic sage Rabbi Avin viewed her comment with disdain, saying: “Anyone who passes a case against another to God is punished first. as it is stated: “And Sarai said to Abram: My anger be upon you; and it is written: “And Abraham came to mourn for Sarah and to weep for her”. The suggestion is that self righteousness and asking for Divine Judgement is a dangerous game. In the case of Sarah, it resulted in her passing away before her husband.
This kind of discretion is most often not taught but learnt by osmosis through role models within our families, friend groups and educational institutions. But Yiftach would not have had this exposure, and as such it is unsurprising that he lacks this discretion. No leader can work in a vacuum, and certainly not one lacking key critical skills. He would need to be taught them, facilitated by those who appointed him to the role. But these weaknesses were not picked up on.
As a result, Yiftach continues with his hyperbole, vowing that if they are victorious, he will dedicate the first thing he sees as an offering to God. A beautiful testament to his unwavering faith, he was committing that he would not only turn to God in times of crisis but in times of victory and thanks as well. Yet he presumably was envisioning a ram running into his path, or a bundle of wheat being found at the crossroads. His intention was never that his own daughter would run out to greet him. Having taken a vow and being too proud or perhaps just uneducated to find a way to repeal it, Yiftach’s daughter is sent away to live out her days alone, secluded in a castle.
To this day, the story of Yiftach is taught as a warning to the gravitas our words carry. We begin the holiest day in the year with the ‘kol nidrei’ prayer, repealing our vows. Shamai taught: ‘say little and do much’. Better not to promise and rather deliver. In a world of misinformation, fake news, and emotive posts with little thought as to the ramifications they may have on others, Yiftach’s message should resonate deeply with today’s reader.
Yiftach’s tragic end is not included in our haftara. But his traumatic beginnings are. His personal tough start to life is arguably not required for either the requisite length of the haftara or its thematic connection with the parsha. But without understanding his early life, we may consider Yiftach to be the guilty party. Yiftach was failed by his family and society. He rose in a remarkable way to serve his people, but was let down by those around him.
They leave us with much to ponder. How often are certain groups not given as good an education as they could have because of prejudgments? Does everyone who walks through our doors feel that they can belong? And ultimately, when we meet people on their journey of life, how can we try to support them with the right education for where they are up to?
There is so much of the Yiftach story present in our turbulent world today. The one good thing the elders of Gilad did was to swallow their pride and seek him out as a leader. Perhaps like then, we also need to reach beyond the obvious. We may have our best advocates lurking in the periphery. Real success cannot be down to one thread of society: it’s time to work together to create a bold, proud, peaceful Jewish today that ensures the future of tomorrow.
[1] 11:3
[2] His language in 11:12 is similar to Moses reaching out to the Edomites in Bamidbar 20:14
[3] 11:27