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The Kiss at Sinai That Israel Refuses to Wash Off

An angel carried the commandment through the camp and stopped at every person to ask whether they would take it. Whoever said yes was kissed on the mouth.

Curated by Arthur · Told by Maggid ·
Table of Contents
  1. Pharaoh Brought Everything He Had
  2. Nobody at the Mountain Was Calm
  3. Do You Accept This Upon Yourself
  4. The Word Came Itself
  5. What the Nations Offered Afterward
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Pharaoh Brought Everything He Had

Pharaoh came out of Egypt on horseback and God came out to meet him the same way.

Pharaoh mounted a stallion, and a stallion appeared under God. Pharaoh remembered that a stallion in a battle will turn and kill the man on its back, and he got down and took a mare instead, and a mare appeared. He rode a red horse and met a red horse. A white one, a white one. A black one, a black one.

He put on armor and a helmet, and righteousness came down over the other rider like armor. He brought up jars of naphtha to burn the water's edge, and hail and coals of fire came through the clouds. He wheeled out the catapults, and thunder answered the stones. He sent in swords and spears, and lightning came in over the swords.

When there was nothing left in the Egyptian baggage train, a voice went across the water at him. "Wicked one. Do you have wind? Do you have a cherub? Do you have wings?"

The sea closed. Israel stood on the far shore with the water still running off them and went out into the wilderness, and seven weeks later they were standing at the foot of a mountain.

Nobody at the Mountain Was Calm

They did not stand there the way people stand at a festival. They stood shaking. Fear went through the whole camp and left it quiet, and the quiet was not peace, it was six hundred thousand people waiting to find out what was going to happen to them.

Then the angels came down the mountain, and there was one for every man in the camp, and every one of them was carrying a crown.

Some say twice that many came, one to set the crown on a man's head and a second one to tie a belt around him where he stood, so that each person was crowned and armed at the same moment, in the middle of a crowd, without moving his feet.

Do You Accept This Upon Yourself

An angel took the first commandment out from in front of God and carried it into the crowd. He went to one man. Not to a tribe, not to a family. One man.

"Do you accept this upon yourself? There are such and such laws in it. There are such and such punishments in it. There are such and such decrees in it, and so many commandments, and so many inferences drawn from them, and there are such and such rewards in it."

The man said, "Yes."

"And do you accept the divinity of the Holy One, blessed be He?"

"Yes. Yes."

The angel leaned in and kissed him on the mouth. Then he moved on to the next man and started again.

The Word Came Itself

Others tell it without the angel.

In their telling the spoken word came off the mountain on its own and walked the camp, and it did its own asking. "Do you accept me upon yourself? There are such and such commandments in me. There are such and such laws in me, and such and such punishments, and such and such decrees, and such and such rewards."

The man said, "Yes. Yes."

The word kissed him on his mouth. Then it stood up in front of him in the shape of a scholar and began teaching him Torah, right there, before he had time to sit down.

Six hundred thousand separate conversations, and every one of them ended on a mouth.

What the Nations Offered Afterward

Centuries of it followed. Swords, fires, decrees, one empire and then the next one, and every so often the same offer arrived.

"How long are you going to go on dying for this God of yours? How long are you going to be killed for his sake? How long will you keep doing kindness on his behalf while he pays you back in hard treatment? Come over to us. We will make you dukes. We will make you governors. We will make you generals. The whole world will turn around and look at you."

Israel answered with a question of its own. Did anyone ever hear that Abraham served idols, or Isaac, or Jacob, that their children should start now?

Then it made an offer back. What can you actually do for us? Can you dance for us the way they danced for Jacob the night he came out of Laban's house, when six hundred thousand angels danced in front of him, and some say twice that? Can you dance for us the way it was danced at the sea, with the angel of God moving along the column? Can you do what was done for Elisha, when his servant went outside at dawn and found the whole hill filled up with horses and chariots of fire?

Nobody made an offer after that.

Midrash RabbahSinaiMartyrdomSong Of Songs
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The texts behind this telling. Some cards carry a translation of the source; others are our own retelling of it, and each card says which. Every card links out to the original.

Shir HaShirim Rabbah 2:2Shir HaShirim Rabbah

Retold in our words. Read the original at the link below.The Sefaria Midrash Rabbah, 2022 · CC-BY

Shir HaShirim Rabbah turns to The Sensual Experience of Receiving God's Word at Sinai.

Our guide today is Shir HaShirim Rabbah, a rabbinic commentary on the Song of Songs. It uses the passionate language of the Song to explore the relationship between God and Israel. And in this particular passage, it unpacks the verse, "Let him kiss me with the kisses of his mouth."

Rabbi Yoḥanan pictures an angel acting as an intermediary. According to him, the angel would take each commandment directly from God, blessed be He, and present it to each Israelite. "Do you accept this commandment?" the angel would ask, detailing the laws, punishments, decrees, and rewards involved. If the Israelite said yes, accepting both the commandment and God's divinity, the angel would kiss them on the mouth. As (Deuteronomy 4:35) says, “You have been shown in order to know that the Lord, He is God.”

The rabbis offer a different, even more direct, interpretation. They suggest the commandment itself would circulate among the Israelites, making the same offer. Accept me, it would say, with all my complexities and rewards. And upon acceptance, the commandment would kiss the person, becoming a scholar and teaching them Torah! Think of it – the very word of God imprinting itself upon you, transforming you. "Lest you forget the matters that your eyes saw," says (Deuteronomy 4:9), highlighting how the dibur (utterance) itself would speak to you.

Now, a crucial question arises: how many commandments did the Israelites actually hear directly from God? Rabbi Yehoshua ben Levi states that after the Ten Commandments were given, the people pleaded with Moses, "You speak with us, and we will hear" (Exodus 20:16). This implies that before that moment, God was speaking directly to them. But how many direct commandments were there?

Rabbi Azarya, citing Rabbi Yehoshua ben Levi, offers a compelling answer: of the 613 mitzvot (commandments) in the Torah, Moses spoke 611. The first two – Anokhi (I am the Lord your God) and Lo Yihye Lekha (You shall have no other gods before me) – were heard directly from God. These initial commandments are thus the "kisses of His mouth" mentioned in the Song of Songs.

But how did these divine utterances actually emerge from God? Rabbi Shimon ben Yoḥai provides a powerful image. He describes the utterance leaving God's right side, encircling the massive Israelite camp (18 mil by 18 mil, a biblical measurement of distance), and then returning to God's left side. God would then receive it and inscribe it on the tablets, the sound echoing across the earth – "The voice of the Lord hews flames of fire" (Psalm 29:7).

The Rabbis, however, take issue with the idea of a "left side" to God. (Exodus 15:6). Instead, they propose the utterance moved from God's right to Israel's right, encircled the camp, and returned to God's right side, before being inscribed.

Rabbi Berekhya adds another layer. He suggests the utterance inscribed itself, its sound reverberating across the world. When asked about the verse "Written with the finger of God" (Exodus 31:18), he responded that it was like a student writing with the master guiding their hand.

So, did Israel hear all the commandments from God directly, or just the first two? Rabbi Yehoshua says just two: "Let him kiss me with some of the kisses of his mouth." The Rabbis, however, insist they heard them all. Rabbi Yehoshua of Sikhnin, in the name of Rabbi Levi, reiterates that the statement "You speak to us and we will hear" came after all Ten Commandments were given.

This passage from Shir HaShirim Rabbah isn't just about the logistics of revelation. It's about the intimacy, the overwhelming power, and the profound responsibility that comes with receiving God's word. It invites us to imagine ourselves at Sinai, not just as observers, but as active participants in a divine encounter. What would it have been like to be kissed by a commandment?

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Shir HaShirim Rabbah 4:1Shir HaShirim Rabbah

Retold in our words. Read the original at the link below.The Sefaria Midrash Rabbah, 2022 · CC-BY

It's filled with poetic imagery, and One thousand bucklers are hung upon it, all the shields of the mighty." What does it all mean?

Well, Shir HaShirim Rabbah, a classic Midrashic (rabbinic interpretive commentary) commentary on the Song of Songs, offers some fascinating interpretations. The verse compares the beloved's neck to the Tower of David, and the Midrash asks: In what way did David elevate this "neck," or Israel, in his book, the Book of Psalms?

The answer, according to the Midrash, lies in verses like (Psalms 136:13), "Who split the Red Sea asunder, [His mercy endures forever. He led Israel through its midst]." The miracle of the Red Sea, a defining moment in Jewish history, is evidence of Israel's merit. It's as if David, through his Psalms, is reminding us of this incredible act of divine grace.

What about the phrase "built magnificently [letalpiyot]"? The Midrash cleverly connects letalpiyot to "mouths [piyot]." It suggests that this refers to the Book of Psalms itself, which, according to tradition, was composed by many voices, many mouths. Who were these psalmists?

The Midrash identifies ten individuals: Adam, Abraham, Moses, David, and Solomon. There's no debate about these five. But who are the other five? This is where it gets interesting. Rav and Rabbi Yoḥanan, two prominent Talmudic sages, offer differing opinions. Rav says: Asaf, Heiman, Yedutun, the three sons of Koraḥ, and Ezra. Rabbi Yoḥanan says: Asaf, Heiman, and Yedutun are one, each of the three sons of Koraḥ, and Ezra.

Trying to connect all these figures and their contributions to the Book of Psalms. The discussion even explores whether Asaf, mentioned as a psalmist, is the same Asaf who was a son of Koraḥ. Rav believes they are different, citing I (Chronicles 25:2), which mentions an Asaf who prophesied during King David's time.

And what about Yedutun? Was he a prophet, or is "to Yedutun" a reference to punishments and decrees, as some suggest? The Rabbis are diving deep into the text to find the most authentic meaning.

But here’s the really beautiful part. Rabbi Huna, in the name of Rabbi Aḥa, shares a powerful parable. Even though ten people contributed to the Book of Psalms, it's ultimately attributed to David. Why? Because, as the parable suggests, the king chose David to recite the hymn on behalf of everyone, because "his voice is sweet." David, "the sweet singer of Israel" (II Samuel 23:1), becomes the unifying voice of the Psalms.

Now, back to our original verse: "One thousand bucklers are hung upon it." The Midrash interprets this as a reference to the thousands upon thousands who stood at the Red Sea and were defended by God. This defense, however, wasn't just for that moment. It was also thanks to the merit of what would come a thousand generations later – the giving of the Torah.

And "all the shields of the mighty"? These are the individuals who control their inclinations, who overcome their desires, like Moses, David, and Ezra. These figures, through their strength and righteousness, have an impact on entire generations. It was through the merit of "your two breasts" (Song of Songs 4:5) – interpreted as Moses and Aaron – that the Torah was given.

The Midrash then shifts its focus to the Israelites at Mount Sinai. They didn't stand there with "lightheartedness," but with fear, trembling, and agitation. They were humbled and united. Rabbi Abba bar Kahana, citing Rabbi Yoḥanan, connects this to (Isaiah 60:12): "And the nations will be destroyed [ḥarov yeḥeravu]." He interprets this as "from Ḥorev (Sinai) they will be destroyed," implying that those who didn't accept the Torah received their death sentence.

The Israelites, on the other hand, were cleansed of iniquity. Rabbi Aḥa and Rabbi Mesharshiya point out that unlike other offerings, the Shavuot (the Festival of Weeks) offering doesn't include a sin offering, implying that the Israelites were without sin at that moment.

Rabbi Yoḥanan adds that on the day the Lord descended onto Mount Sinai, six hundred thousand ministering angels descended with him, each carrying a crown for an Israelite. Rabbi Abba bar Kahana says that a million two hundred thousand angels descended: one to crown each Israelite, and another to gird them with a zoni, a belt, symbolizing strength and commitment.

So, what does all of this tell us? The Song of Songs, through the lens of the Midrash, becomes a tradition of historical events, theological insights, and moral lessons. It reminds us of the importance of remembering our history, of striving for righteousness, and of appreciating the power of unity and humility. It's not just a love poem; it's a reflection on the relationship between God and Israel, a relationship forged in fire and sustained by faith. And like David's sweet voice echoing through the Psalms, these stories continue to resonate with us today.

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Shir HaShirim Rabbah 1:9Shir HaShirim Rabbah

Retold in our words. Read the original at the link below.The Sefaria Midrash Rabbah, 2022 · CC-BY

The ancient rabbis certainly did. And they found ways to see even the most epic struggles, like the Exodus from Egypt, through a deeply human lens. They weren't just interested in the historical events; they wanted to understand the spiritual and moral lessons embedded within.

Take this passage from Shir HaShirim Rabbah, a collection of rabbinic interpretations on the Song of Songs. It grapples with a seemingly simple verse: "To a mare in Pharaoh's chariots" (Song of Songs 1:9). Now, what could a mare possibly have to do with spiritual growth and understanding God?

Rabbi Papis, in his interpretation, plays with the Hebrew word for "mare," lesusati. He points out that it's written without a vav, a Hebrew letter that often functions as a vowel. This allows it to also be read as lesisati, which sounds like "I was gladdened" (sasti). So, Rabbi Papis suggests, God is saying, "Just as I was gladdened to eliminate the Egyptians at the sea, so I would have been gladdened to eliminate the enemies of Israel."

Who caused Israel to be saved? According to Rabbi Papis, it was the merit of the Torah they were destined to receive, symbolized by God's right hand, "From His right, a fiery law to them" (Deuteronomy 33:2). And on their left? The mezuza, that small parchment scroll containing verses from the Torah, affixed to the doorpost. It's a constant reminder of God's presence as we enter and leave our homes. Alternatively, he suggests the right is reciting the Shema prayer and the left is the Amidah prayer.

However, Rabbi Akiva, ever the astute scholar, wasn't entirely convinced by Rabbi Papis's interpretation. He pointed out that the word for "gladness" (sisa) is usually spelled with a sin, not a samekh, the letter used in this verse. So, he challenges Rabbi Papis: how do you interpret "to a mare in Pharaoh's chariots"?

Rabbi Akiva then offers a powerful and visually striking interpretation. He suggests that just as Pharaoh rode on stallions, God, too, revealed Himself on a stallion – "He mounted a cherub and flew" (Psalms 18:11). Pharaoh, fearing the aggression of stallions, opted for mares. But God, in a way, mirrors Pharaoh's actions, meeting him on his own terms.

The midrash (rabbinic interpretive commentary) continues, drawing parallels between Pharaoh's war preparations and God's actions. Pharaoh brought armor, and God "donned righteousness like armor" (Isaiah 59:17). Pharaoh brought naphtha (a flammable liquid), and God sent "hail and coals of fire" (Psalms 18:13). The text meticulously compares Pharaoh’s arsenal to God’s, emphasizing that while Pharaoh relies on earthly weapons, God's power is cosmic and absolute.

Rabbi Levi adds that God's arrows didn't just strike the Egyptians; they scattered and confused them, dismantling their entire formation.

The climax arrives with Rabbi Berekhya's statement in the name of Rabbi Shmuel bar Naḥman: after Pharaoh exhausted all his weapons, God began to exalt Himself over him. "Wicked one, do you have wind, do you have a cherub, do you have wings?" God asks, rhetorically highlighting the limitations of Pharaoh's power compared to His own.

Where did God cause these elements to fly from? Rabbi Yudan suggests they were taken from between the wheels of the Divine Chariot. Rabbi Ḥanina bar Pappa adds a profound idea: humans ride on things that carry them, but God carries what He rides upon. "He mounted a cherub and flew, and He soared on wings of wind" (Psalms 18:11).

Rabbi Aḥa concludes with a breathtaking thought: God has many worlds, and He reveals Himself in each of them. This suggests that the Exodus, while a pivotal event in Jewish history, is just one manifestation of God's ongoing engagement with creation.

What does all this mean for us today? Perhaps it's a reminder that even in the face of overwhelming challenges, we can find strength and hope in our traditions. We can see God's presence in the everyday – in the mezuza on our doorpost, in the words of the Shema, and in the power of prayer. And maybe, just maybe, we can find a little bit of gladness, sisa, in the midst of it all.

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Shir HaShirim Rabbah 1:2Shir HaShirim Rabbah

Retold in our words. Read the original at the link below.The Sefaria Midrash Rabbah, 2022 · CC-BY

Why do you keep dying for Him?" As it says in (Psalms 44:23), "For we are killed for Your sake all day." They continue, "Why do you do acts of kindness for Him when He repays you with harshness? Come join us! We'll make you dukes, governors, generals! You'll be the center of attention, the focus of the world [meḥezyatei]!" The implication is clear: abandon your faith, and you'll be rewarded handsomely.

The nations say, "And we will gaze [veneḥezeh] upon you," suggesting that Israel will become the focal point of the world's admiration. This is connected to the verse in (Exodus 18:21), "You shall discern [teḥezeh] from among the entire people capable men…". The nations are offering Israel leadership and prominence if they abandon their faith.

How does Israel respond to this tempting offer? They reply, "Why will you gaze at the Shulamite like at a dance of two companies?" It's a rhetorical question, a challenge. "Do you think we'd ever abandon the path of our ancestors?" They argue, "Have you ever heard of Abraham, Isaac, and Jacob engaging in idol worship? Our ancestors didn't, and neither will we!"

The text then explores what kind of "dance" the nations could offer Israel. Could they create a celebration like the one for Jacob when he left Lavan's house? Rabbi Berekhya, in the name of Rabbi Levi, says that six hundred thousand angels danced before Jacob (or, according to the Rabbis, one million two hundred thousand!). (Genesis 32:3) tells us, "Jacob said when he saw them: This is the camp [maḥaneh] of God," which is interpreted as representing six hundred thousand. "Maḥanayim," the name of the place, literally means "two camps," implying one million two hundred thousand. Can the nations match that divine celebration?

Or perhaps they could recreate the miracle at the sea, when the angel of God traveled with the Israelites (Exodus 14:19). Or conjure up the protective forces surrounding Elisha, as described in II (Kings 6:15-17), when the mountain was filled with horses and chariots of fire.

The passage culminates with a vision of the future, a dance led by the Holy One, blessed be He, for the righteous. Rabbi Ḥanina says that in the future, God will lead a dance for the righteous, as it is stated in (Psalms 48:14), "Pay attention to its ramparts [leḥeila]” – which is interpreted as "to the dance [leḥola]". And the righteous will point to Him, saying, "For this is God, our God, forever and ever, He will guide us beyond death [al mut]" (Psalms 48:15), like young women [alamot], like the dance of the righteous.

This passage from Shir HaShirim Rabbah reminds us of the enduring power of faith and the importance of staying true to our values, even when faced with tempting alternatives. It asks us: what kind of "dance" are we chasing? And are we willing to compromise our integrity for a fleeting moment in the spotlight?

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