Jewish tradition grapples with it too, and beautifully so.

In the Shir HaShirim Rabbah, a collection of rabbinic interpretations on the Song of Songs, we find a fascinating exploration of this very idea. The verse we're looking at is Song of Songs 2:14: "My dove, in the clefts of the rock, in the covert of the cliff: Show me your appearance, let me hear your voice, for your voice is pleasant, and your appearance is lovely.”

But what does a dove in the rocks have to do with us?

Rabbi Yoḥanan offers a striking image: God calls Israel a dove, as it is written, "Ephraim was like a foolish dove with no understanding" (Hosea 7:11). But, Rabbi Yoḥanan continues, while Israel is a dove to God, to the nations of the world, they are like beasts. He points to verses describing the tribes of Israel: "Judah is a lion cub" (Genesis 49:9), "Naphtali is a hind let loose" (Genesis 49:21), "Dan will be a serpent on the road" (Genesis 49:17), "Benjamin is a ravenous wolf" (Genesis 49:27).

Why this duality? According to this interpretation, the nations of the world challenge Israel, questioning their commitment to things like Shabbat and circumcision. To withstand this pressure, God fortifies Israel, allowing them to appear as beasts, strong and even intimidating, to those who seek to undermine them. But before God, they remain innocent doves, heeding His call. Think about it – it's a beautiful way of seeing how we can be both strong and vulnerable, depending on the context.

It reminds me of the story in Exodus, where God asks Moses, "Why are you shouting to Me?" (Exodus 14:15). The commentary suggests God already heard the pleas of the Israelites; their voice was already "pleasant." They didn't need Moses to intercede, because their own sincere cries were enough.

Rabbi Yehuda ben Rabbi Simon offers another layer to this idea. He suggests that Israel is innocent like doves to God, but as cunning as snakes to the nations of the world. He brings the story of Shadrach, Meshach, and Abed Nego (from the Book of Daniel) as an example. When Nebuchadnezzar demands they bow to his idol, they cleverly distinguish between their obligations to the king in secular matters and their unwavering loyalty to God. They say to him, "With regard to municipal tax, head tax, state tax, and produce tax, you are our king… But with regard to this matter, that you are telling us to prostrate ourselves to your idol, you are Nebuchadnezzar and Nebuchadnezzar is your name; this man and [a dog] who barks are equal to us.” They're basically saying, "In matters of state, we respect you, but when it comes to our faith, you have no authority." Boom.

The text then gets wonderfully colorful, describing Nebuchadnezzar's furious reaction. He barks like a dog [navaḥ], inflates like a [leather] jug [kad], and chirps [nazar] like a cricket! These vivid images paint a picture of his impotent rage.

Rabbi Levi adds a final thought, quoting Ecclesiastes 8:2: "I observe the king's directive." But he immediately clarifies: "I will observe the directive of the King of kings." He connects this to the commandment from Sinai, "I am the Lord your God" (Exodus 20:2), and the prohibition against taking God's name in vain (Exodus 20:7). Shadrach, Meshach, and Abed Nego, according to this reading, understood they were bound by an oath to God, an oath that superseded any earthly command.

So, what can we take away from all this? It seems to me that these interpretations of the Song of Songs offer a powerful lesson about navigating the complexities of identity and faith. We are called to be both strong and vulnerable, discerning and steadfast. Like the dove in the clefts of the rock, we find refuge in our faith, even as we engage with a world that may not always understand us. It's about knowing when to be a dove, and when to let out a lion's roar. It's about understanding the difference between earthly obligations and the ultimate authority of our faith. And it's about finding the strength to remain true to ourselves, even when the world demands otherwise.