Some verses in Tanach are familiar because we read them once a year in a Haftorah.
Others have become so deeply embedded in Jewish life that we know them even without realizing where they come from.
This week’s Haftorah is a striking example.
Taken from Isaiah 51:12-52:12, it is the fourth of the seven Haftarot of consolation read after Tisha B’Av. The prophet speaks to a Jewish people that has suffered exile, humiliation and loss, and assures them that their condition will not last forever.
Jerusalem will rise again.
What makes the passage especially remarkable is that much of its language is familiar to us from an entirely different setting because we sing it every Friday night.
Rabbi Shlomo Halevi Alkabetz, the 16th-century kabbalist who composed Lecha Dodi, drew extensively on Isaiah’s prophecies of redemption. Several of the most memorable phrases in his famous hymn come directly from this week’s Haftorah.
Isaiah declares: “Hit’oreri, hit’oreri" - “Awaken, awaken" (Isaiah 51:17).
He then calls out: “Uri, uri, livshi uzeich Tzion" - “Awake, awake, put on your strength, Zion," followed by “livshi bigdei tifarteich" - “put on your garments of splendor" (Isaiah 52:1).
And then comes another phrase that every synagogue-goer will immediately recognize: “Hitna’ari me’afar, kumi" - “Shake yourself from the dust, arise" (Isaiah 52:2).
Those words are woven directly into Lecha Dodi, and once we recognize the source of these words, the Friday night prayer takes on an added dimension.
We naturally think of it as a song welcoming Shabbat. But much of the poem is about far more than Shabbat.
It is about Jerusalem, exile and redemption.
And it is about the Jewish people casting off the burdens of exile, returning to their former glory and preparing for the rebuilding of Zion.
That is not incidental because Shabbat itself is intimately connected with redemption.
Six days a week we confront a world that is incomplete. There is suffering, conflict and uncertainty. The Jewish people still face enemies. And while Jerusalem has been rebuilt to an extent that generations of Jews could scarcely have imagined, the process of redemption is not yet complete.
Then Shabbat arrives.
For one day, we step away from the pressures and struggles of the week. We make Kiddush, sit with family and friends, sing hymns and experience a small taste of a more complete and peaceful existence.
Our Sages describe Shabbat as me’ein olam haba - a taste of the World to Come.
Seen in that light, it is easy to understand why Rabbi Alkabetz connected the arrival of Shabbat with Isaiah’s vision of Jerusalem’s redemption. As we welcome the Sabbath, we also remind ourselves that the world as we know it is not the final state of affairs.
There is something else noteworthy about Isaiah’s language.
The prophet does not simply tell Jerusalem that redemption will come. He commands her to act: “Awaken", “Arise", “Shake yourself from the dust" and “Put on your garments of splendor."
Jerusalem is being told not to remain bowed down by what has happened to her.
That is an important Jewish message.
We believe that redemption ultimately comes from G-d. But Jewish faith has never meant passivity. We are not supposed to sit back, resign ourselves to circumstances and wait for events to unfold.
We are expected to rise, to rebuild and to act.
That message has accompanied the Jewish people throughout exile. And it has taken on extraordinary meaning in our own generation, when Jews have returned to their ancestral homeland, rebuilt cities that lay desolate and restored Jewish sovereignty in the Land of Israel.
The dangers are real, and the challenges remain great.
But Isaiah’s words remind us not to mistake difficulty for defeat.
That may be one reason they were chosen to accompany us into Shabbat each week.
Every Friday night, Jews around the world sing the words of this week’s Haftorah, often without realizing it.
And in doing so, we repeat Isaiah’s message to Jerusalem and to the Jewish people as a whole: exile is not permanent, humiliation is not destiny, and even after centuries in the dust, the Jewish people can and will rise again.