Some years ago, when I was a young assistant rabbi in a large congregation, I was having dinner with a man who had been widowed recently. He and his late wife were both Holocaust survivors. His son — who was away attending university — was interested in applying to the rabbinic seminary from which I had graduated a few months earlier.

"I understand you have to write a thesis in order to graduate," the man said. "Tell me, what was yours about?" "Holocaust literature," I replied. "Oh?" he said, "And what did you learn?" "Well," I said, "I now understand what happened, how and why." "You must tell me then," he said, "because I was there, and I still don’t understand."

Temple Sinai of Bergen County, Tenafly, Reform

If I forget Thee, O, Jerusalem, let my right hand forget her cunning. Let my tongue cleave to the roof of my mouth if I remember thee not; if I set not Jerusalem above my chiefest joy (Psalm 137: 5-6)."

On Shabbat Ha-Chodesh, Jerusalem is always on my mind. For the haftarah we read on this Shabbat, Ezekiel 45:16 to 46:18, envisions a restored Jerusalem in a messianic age of peace at last. Ezekiel restored hope to those of our ancestors who were exiles in Babylon after Nebuchadnezzar besieged Jerusalem and destroyed the Beit Ha-Mikdash — the Temple Solomon had built. He foretold a glorious restoration of the city and the Temple and a renewal of the sacrificial offerings and the accompanying worship over which the Cohanim would once again preside. "Jerusalem restored! The city united and whole!" (Psalm 122: 3)

How do you avoid saying "I told you so" after the worst has happened, you saw it coming, and you tried to warn the people you now have to face? That is the dilemma the n’vi-im, ancient Israel’s prophets faced, as is implicit in the haftarah selection for this Shabbat.

This Shabbat is one of those special Shabbatot during the year that is known by a name other than the name of the Torah portion — in this instance, the opening word of the Haftarah from Isaiah, chapter 40, nachamu. The word is a verb in the imperative plural, apparently addressed to the remnant of Israel’s leadership, meaning "comfort." That it is expressed twice, "Nachamu, nachamu," gives it a special effect. The opening phrase, therefore, "Nachamu, nachamu ami," means, essentially, "Go out and comfort my people."