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Parashat Ekev outlines the covenantal relationship between God and Israel as one between a father and son.  God, the father, leads his son through the twists and turns of life, protecting him and responding to his actions.  Even the hardships of the wanderers in the desert are interpreted in the framework of a parental relationship: “And thou shalt consider in thy heart, that, as a man chasteneth his son, so the Lord thy God chasteneth thee” (Deuteronomy 8:5). The son’s bounty, if only he fulfills his father’s commandments and keeps his laws, will be great. He will receive economic comfort, and he will effortlessly overcome his enemies. Fear will befall them, God assures, “Thou shalt not be affrighted at them; for the Lord thy God is in the midst of thee, a God great and awful” (Deut 7:21). 
The only danger facing the people of Israel is that of arrogance, the false, tempting sense that, “'my power and the might of my hand hath gotten me this wealth,'” and that, “'for my righteousness the LORD hath brought me in to possess this land'” (Deut 8:17, 9:4).  Self-righteousness and a sense of power can lead a people to forsake God, to worship false gods, and lose its way.  In this case, God changes the practical implication of the covenant.  The loving, protective father will become a punishing one, even threatening to eliminate the rebellious son.  This exact phenomenon played out when the people danced around the golden calf declaring it the god of Israel.  Only Moses, the man who had led the nation up to this point and was facing the end of both his mission and his life, could convince God not to annihilate His people.
The way this concept is depicted in this parasha as guiding Israel’s history is clear and striking. The accompanying metaphors represent its meaning no less clearly.   The nation’s history is dictated by their covenant with God, which demands the people follow His laws, while God directs the course of history based on the people’s behavior, according to the extent of their compliance with His commandments.  The theoretical framework of this arrangement is well known. The concept was used as the prevailing framework for statehood – between the rulers of empires and their subordinate kings (the vassals), who pledged allegiance to the king in exchange for protection.  Accordingly, the metaphors are set in clear masculine terms, particularly military-related.  God is the father, the nation is the son.  Success will be manifested in the conquest and awe of their enemies.  The text intersperses with the plural form it uses on regular bases some addresses in the singular form, clearly pointing in Hebrew that the “thou” it refers to is masculine. This form intensifies the sense of masculinity, as when Moses speaks for God – the dominant male speaking to the sons: “Only the Lord had a delight in thy fathers to love them [רַק בַּאֲבֹתֶיךָ חָשַׁק ה’] …. Thou shalt fear the Lord thy God; Him shalt thou serve [אֶת ה’ אֱלֹהֶיךָ תִּירָא אֹתוֹ תַעֲבֹד]…. He is thy glory [הוּא תְהִלָּתְךָ]… Thy fathers went down into Egypt with threescore and ten persons [בְּשִׁבְעִים נֶפֶשׁ יָרְדוּ אֲבֹתֶיךָ מִצְרָיְמָה]; and now the LORD thy God hath made thee as the stars of heaven for multitude,” (Deut 10:15-22).  The metaphors outlining the punishments to befall the people if they betray God are no less masculine and military in nature: “I forewarn you this day that ye shall surely perish. As the nations that the Lord maketh to perish before you, so shall ye perish; because ye would not hearken unto the voice of the Lord your God,” (Deut 8:19-20).
This week’s haftara is the second in the series of “consolation haftarot”, read the weeks following Tisha B’Av.  This reading also deals with the covenant between God and the people, and the complex route of Israel’s history.  It discusses reward and punishment, and sin and fulfilling God’s commandments.  That is where the similarities between the two portions end.  The parasha is part of Moses’ speech on the eve of entering Israel.  It focuses on the miraculous exodus from Egypt and the wonders waiting in the Land of Israel, a promise of lives of prosperity and dominance. The haftara is rooted in a very different world.  It is taken from the collection of prophecies of the return to Zion to be found in the book of Isaiah’s second part.  There are lines of optimism and faith there too, but they are rooted in confronting the terrible destruction and exile brought by God, expressing anticipation and desire to return to Israel and to God, to rebuild their ruins and heal their wounds.  According to the parasha, arrogance and self-righteousness are the main dangers facing the nation, and may be leading to idolatry.  The haftara struggles with the paralyzing desperation, loss of faith and hope, and weakness of those who no longer trust in their ability to live in harmony with God.
Here, in such a different context that the accompanying metaphors change as well.  It is no longer a matter of father and son, punishment and war, the rule of the strong over the weak and the pride of winning. Zion is depicted in the very opening verse as a woman, God as the one who comforts her. “Can a woman forget her sucking child, that she should not have compassion on the son of her womb?” (Isaiah 49:14-15).  Zion, the feminine, is the speaker and the mourner, hoping and despairing, believing and building. God, even if it is a He, compares His behavior to that of a mother.  Even the peoples among whom the Jews were dispersed are described as “kings” and “queens.”  They, the kings and queens, will now be Zion’s “foster fathers” and “nursing mothers” to the nation of abandoned offspring (Isaiah 49:23).
The differing metaphors in the parasha and haftara apply also to the people themselves throughout the generations.  The parasha directs the people to teach the laws, “to your sons…that you days may be multiplied, as the days of your sons, upon the land which the Lord swore unto your fathers to give them,” (Deut 11:19-21).  The haftara knows that the returning to Zion is a greater and a more whole issue, “and they shall bring thy sons in their bosom, and thy daughters shall be carried upon their shoulders” (Isaiah 49:22).  Now we can naturally combine the two into an amalgam describing the prevailing relationship between God and human beings.  God is described as a loving mother, and even more than that; Zion is depicted also as a mother, a bereaved lonely one, who experiences the return of her children.
One can, of course, dismiss this all with a nod, and mention that similar feminine metaphors are common in readings from Prophets, especially in Hosea, where Zion is cast as an adulterous woman. Moreover, the consolation in this week’s haftara seems to correspond directly to this angry, anti-woman metaphor. “Thus saith the Lord: Where is the bill of your mother's divorcement, wherewith I have put her away? Or which of My creditors is it to whom I have sold you?” (Isaiah 50:1).  However, the difference is wider and more significant.  Our haftara’s prophecy does not express only a sentiment that the time has come to gather the exiled woman; a sentiment that could have been expressed by making use of the same metaphors Hosea was speaking of. What changes here is the entire understanding of reality and the world, which the metaphors accents.  The rift was not the result of Zion’s betrayal – the mother – but of her sons and daughters: “Behold, for your iniquities were ye sold, and for your transgressions was your mother put away,” (Isaiah 50:2).  You are responsible for the destruction and exile; you will experience the rehabilitation and healing when it comes time to reunite with your “mother.”
The context surrounding the prophet’s words is a maturing one.  It requires honest, brave reflection upon what occurred, consciousness of a rift and of its cause, and the ability to truly understand national history.  The words of the prophet  seek to uncover buried faith and passion, to reawaken hope and encourage building and creation. “Wherefore, when I came, was there no man? when I called, was there none to answer? Is My hand shortened at all, that it cannot redeem? Or have I no power to deliver?” (Isaiah 50:2), calls-asks the prophet.  Maturation of this kind, a resurgence of belief in the power of faith and practice, cannot occur in the reduced and exclusionary context of the parasha.  The world of these explicit and implied masculine metaphors must change, expand, and open up.  Indeed, alongside the explicit masculine-feminine metaphors in the haftara exists also a world of different metaphors regarding the actions of God and man.  In the parasha, there were abundant military metaphors; in the haftara also they are not absent.  But, imprisonment and conflict are entwined here with marriage; eating enemies’ flesh with birth and raising children; the destruction of seas and drying out of rivers, with references to jewels and the chuppah.  These metaphors encapsulate a fuller range of human experiences, as well as spiritual image of the Divine.  This is a true perspective, immeasurable in its stability and grounded in reality; an approach that cannot only express grief and despair, but inspire faith and hope as well.
This is the religious language that we – men and women alike – need.  We are commanded to develop in line with what we read in this Shabbat’s haftara, spiritual words that will assist us in gathering the good. We need a religious language – in our theologies and prayers, orientation and our sense of being commanded – that will correspond to the metaphors of God as mother and father, masculine and feminine lover, king and the creating feminine force.  We will be able to stick to confidence in our ability to heal our world and our society only if we learn to talk about “your sons” and “your daughters,” “our mothers” and “our fathers”.  We will be called upon to redeeming acts only by combining power and tenderness, struggle and cooperation, blazing the trail and tending to the land, sowing and reaping. A proper society can be built with our hands only if they will be those of both men and women, combined and intertwined, with each lending his or her unique strengths to the other.  As it is written, calling up Zion the feminine, “Lift up thine eyes round about, and behold: all these gather themselves together, and come to thee, as I live, saith the LORD”  [שְׂאִי סָבִיב עֵינַיִךְ וּרְאִי כֻּלָּם נִקְבְּצוּ בָאוּ לָךְ חַי אָנִי נְאֻם ה’] (Isaiah 49:18).