1 For Zion’s sake I will not keep silent,
Isaiah 62:1-5 (NRSVue)
and for Jerusalem’s sake I will not rest,
until her vindication shines out like the dawn
and her salvation like a burning torch.
2 The nations shall see your vindication
and all the kings your glory,
and you shall be called by a new name
that the mouth of the LORD will give.
3 You shall be a beautiful crown in the hand of the LORD
and a royal diadem in the hand of your God.
4 You shall no more be termed Forsaken,
and your land shall no more be termed Desolate,
but you shall be called My Delight Is in Her
and your land Married,
for the LORD delights in you,
and your land shall be married.
5 For as a young man marries a young woman,
so shall your builder marry you,
and as the bridegroom rejoices over the bride,
so shall your God rejoice over you.
Indian Dalit filmmaker Pa. Ranjith’s recent Tamil film Thangalaan (2024), weaves together the characters’ lives, resistance stories, and the quest for identity and dignity. Set in the late 19th century colonial period, the film centers the lives and experiences of Dalits, formerly known as untouchables, and its plot revolves around the control of a territory rich with gold protected by indigenous people—the Nagas.
The vision for new identity in Thangalaan is complex, but it is unequivocally tied to liberation. Not all characters in the film imagine liberation the same way. While the character Gengu associates liberation with salvation in heaven, where equality prevails and discrimination is absent, the protagonist Thangalaan’s vision for liberation of Dalit communities is tangible, material, and realized in this world. It is manifested in human relations. Thangalaan imagines liberation as a restoration of relationships wherein the inherent humanity of Dalits is acknowledged, and they are viewed not just as laborers but as people with value and potential.
The process of achieving liberation is not easy. It is deadly, and scary. Yet, Thangalaan says, “rather than die under those who discriminate against us based on our birth, it is better to die trying to change it.” The Dalits in the movie risk their lives, lose their loved ones, face dangerous snakes, and fight the Nagas to establish an identity that is neither dependent on the dominant caste nor the British, but is one they carved out for themselves. In what follows, I employ the protagonist’s identity politics in the film as a lens to interpret Isaiah 62:1-5. This lens offers new avenues to comprehend the reversal of identity manifested in horizontal and vertical relationships imagined in the text.
Isaiah 56-66—often referred to as the third Isaiah or Trito Isaiah—is set in Jerusalem and refers to events either in anticipation of a return after the 6th century BCE Judahite exile in Babylon or events after the exiles returned to their homeland. However, the subtext of this section of Isaiah highlights the shame, despair, desolation, and destruction Jerusalem has experienced and endured under Babylonian rule. This last part of the book of Isaiah highlights a longing for liberation, restoration, and transformation. However, these messages of hope should not eclipse listening to the voices of marginalized communities that have experienced devastating loss, exile, and trauma.
The lectionary pericope uses a marital metaphor to highlight restoration of relationship wherein Jerusalem is lifted up as a light to the nations. The marital metaphor in Isaiah 62:4-5 is unlike the marital and sexual metaphors in Hosea, Jeremiah, and Ezekiel. While other prophetic books accuse Israel/Jerusalem of playing the “whore” and being an “adulteress,” Isaiah 62 reverses such perception of Jerusalem and presents her as one whose “vindication shines out like the dawn and her salvation like a burning torch” (62:1b).
Influenced by the theme of transformation in Isaiah 40-55, Isaiah 62:1-5 presents a series of promises to Jerusalem that carve out a new identity: her vindication will shine out like dawn and her salvation like burning torch (62:1b); she will receive a new name from the mouth of God (62:2); she will be a valuable crown and a royal diadem in the hand of God (62:3); her past names shall be reversed and new names will be given (62:4); and God will delight and rejoice over God’s relationship with her (62:5). This series of promises disrupts the prior notions of accusations hurled against Jerusalem as the author of this text perceives Jerusalem not as the accused but as the oppressed whose name will be cleared by YHWH.
In the film, after finding evidence of gold, Thangalaan returns to his village on horseback wearing “English clothes”—a pair of pants and a shirt, a gun, and some money. Throughout the film, Dalit men were depicted wearing only a loincloth, and Dalit women wear sarees without a blouse. He pays off the debt imposed on his land by the greedy landlords, reclaims the land and frees his family from bondage. His courage to challenge and fight against the dominant caste landlords offers the other Dalits a glimmer of hope. For the first time, they openly criticize the dominant caste landlords’ injustices. In his speech to the gathered crowd, Thangalaan encourages the entire village to join him in digging for more gold, which he believes will change their lives forever. Similar to Thangalaan, in which the protagonist fears nothing in his quest to carve out an identity for himself, his community, and future generations, Isaiah 62 opens with the speaker’s decision to speak out. The speaker refuses to remain silent about the derogatory names Zion had been given. The identity of the speaker is ambiguous in the pericope. While some scholars argue that God is the speaker, reading the entire chapter suggests that the speaker is more likely the prophet, especially since the prophet declares that the community will never remain silent until they have tangibly experienced the promises made to them by YHWH. The question then is, why is the prophet speaking now?
Although the current lectionary selection does not specify the reasons for speaker’s decision to speak up at this moment, two possibilities can be suggested: First, much time has elapsed since the promises of YHWH, and the prophet is now proclaiming to the community to keep their hope alive in God’s promises (62:1-5), while also encouraging them to remind God of those promises until their fulfilment (62:6-7). Second, the positive use of marriage metaphor in the text (62:4-5), which departs from other negative marital and sexual metaphors employed in Hosea, Jeremiah and Ezekiel, suggests a shift in how Jerusalem is perceived in the text. The speaker refuses to remain silent because Jerusalem is no more the accused but is the oppressed. The speaker declares an end to the time of silence in order to represent and advocate for the oppressed small nation of Judah.
At a time when God’s silence emboldened the surrounding nations to hurl insults against Jerusalem calling it derogatory names such as “Forsaken” and “Desolate” (62:4), the speaker challenges such derogatory treatment of Zion. This reminds me of Thangalaan’s confrontation of a Brahmin (dominant caste) man. In one memorable scene, a Brahmin man mistranslates British General’s words, “you all have rights over the gold we mine” as “you all are my slaves, wage laborers; mind your jobs and be obedient.” Thangalaan intervenes and exposes the Brahmin’s mistranslation. In the same way, the speaker in Isaiah 62, speaks out against the unjust treatment of Jerusalem by the nations and seeks to put an end to its oppression and proclaim God’s promises, elevating the people’s status and identity as God’s delight (62:4). The speaker links liberation and restoration of identity.
The new identity of the oppressed nation, Jerusalem, begins with the public assertion of their dignity and value. For the bystanders, the dominant, and the colonizers, Jerusalem will no more be a site of ridicule but “her vindication shines out like the dawn and her salvation like a burning torch” (62:1b). By employing relational metaphors in the text, the speaker announces liberation that is tangible and experienced in human relations in current contexts. The horizontal relationship of Jerusalem with the nations will then reflect the vertical relationship of God and Jerusalem.
However, in both the horizontal and vertical relationships described in Isaiah 62, Jerusalem is depicted as a nation with global prominence and a bride who has found favor in the sight of her beloved, YHWH. Instead of overemphasizing Jerusalemite exceptionalism in the text, I would rather focus on the preferential option of the poor wherein God uplifts the oppressed and marginalized. According to this text, God’s protection and care are particularly for the ones who lack power and privilege. The text clearly highlights the marginality of Jerusalem. Therefore, contrary to what oppressors might say, the oppressed are valuable—a reality that will be declared to the nations. God reverses the identity of Jerusalem from being “Forsaken” and “Desolate,” to being called Hephzibah (“My delight is in her”) and Be’ulah (“Married”). In this new identity, the relationship between God and Jerusalem is as intimate as the relationship between the bride and bridegroom (62:5).
This relationship is interestingly situated in the celebratory stage where the bride’s desire and love are for the groom and the groom’s affection and love is for the bride. Although marital metaphors in the Hebrew Bible do not assume equality, situating the love between God and Jerusalem in the initial celebratory stage makes it a perfectly equal marriage. Unlike the other instances such as in Hosea where marriage metaphor carries the implication of an abusive husband’s anger towards his wife, in this passage, Jerusalem, the one which was vulnerable will be the delight of the groom. In this stage of marriage, there is no exploitation but only love and intimacy. The past experience of being exploited and robbed of the labor will not be the reality. The laborers will receive the fruit of their labor (62:8); wrongs will be righted and Jerusalem which was known for its desolation and destruction by the Babylonian empire will now become a beacon to the world.
The God of the Old Testament—and especially in our passage—only sides with the oppressed, the marginalized and those who do not have power. As we often witness in the Hebrew Bible, God is the God of the poor, afflicted, and the marginalized. Those experiencing rejection because of their sociopolitical identities—whether they are the Dalits in Thangalaan, those excommunicated due to their gender identities, or anyone facing marginalization and discrimination in any form—they can know that God does not condone discrimination, that God’s promises are a proclamation of reversal. A reversal of identity, intrinsically tied to liberation, and manifested in human relationships here and now. The prophet’s proclamation of God’s promises will be realized in horizontal relationships, empowered and shaped by the vertical relationship with God.
