Today, we're diving into the Book of Daniel and a fascinating interpretation found in Shir HaShirim Rabbah, a collection of rabbinic interpretations on the Song of Songs.
We’re focusing on the famous story of Belshazzar’s Feast – that wild party where a mysterious hand appears and writes on the wall. Remember? Mene, mene, tekel, ufarsin (Daniel 5:25). The king's terrified, no one can read the writing… except for Daniel.
Shir HaShirim Rabbah 4 uses the verse "On my bed at nights I sought the one whom my soul loves" from Song of Songs to explore this moment, casting Daniel as the "one whom my soul loves." The text paints a vivid picture. "I sought him, but did not find him," referring to the frantic search for someone who could interpret the divine message. "The watchmen found me," the text continues, identifying these "watchmen" as the Chaldeans, the Babylonians themselves.
But where did Daniel go? Why wasn’t he immediately available? The text offers two possibilities. One suggests he was in a fast, "pleading for mercy regarding the destruction of the Temple," as reflected in Daniel 9:17: "Now, our God, heed the prayer of Your servant." The other suggests he was preoccupied with another matter – perhaps even anticipating the very feast where he'd ultimately be called upon to read the writing on the wall.
Now, let's get to the really juicy part: the interpretation of those cryptic words. Mene, mene, tekel, ufarsin. What did they actually mean?
Rabbi Ḥiyya the Great and Rabbi Shimon ben Ḥalafta offered some truly creative interpretations. Rabbi Ḥiyya suggested the letters were arranged in columns, requiring Daniel to read downwards to understand the message – a direct allusion to the message coming "down from above." Rabbi Shimon ben Ḥalafta, on the other hand, proposed using the at bash cipher, a system of letter substitution where the first letter of the alphabet is replaced with the last, the second with the second-to-last, and so on. Again, the text emphasizes the divine source of the message through its complexity.
But Rabbi Meir keeps it simple. He argues that the words were written plainly, "in accordance with its plain meaning." So, why couldn’t anyone else decipher it? Because, according to Rabbi Meir, the Hebrew letters were written in the Assyrian script, the script that was newly adopted by the Jewish people.
The meaning? "God has counted [mana] the years of your kingdom and it has been completed." God weighed [tekel] Belshazzar on the scales and found him wanting. And finally, God has divided [paras] his kingdom and given it to the Medes and the Persians.
The text then recounts how, after hearing this grim prophecy, the Israelites present turned to Daniel, reminding him of Jeremiah's prophecies. "All the dire and harsh prophecies that Jeremiah prophesied befell us, and the one positive prophecy…has not yet transpired." They were waiting for the promised redemption. Daniel, in turn, consults the Book of Isaiah, specifically Isaiah 21:1: "A prophecy of the wilderness of the sea, like gale force winds in the south."
The Rabbis use this verse to allude to the four kingdoms that would subjugate Israel, with Babylonia being the first. Rabbi Ḥanina, quoting Rabbi Yoḥanan, explains that the damage each kingdom inflicts is different. If Israel merits it, the oppression will be "from the sea," less damaging. If not, it will be "from the forest," more severe. A similar idea is found in Psalms 80:14, "the boar from the forest [miyaar] will gnaw at it." The word miyaar is written with a suspended ayin, allowing it to be read as either "forest" [yaar] or "river" [yeor], reinforcing the idea that Israel's fate depends on its merit.
The interpretation continues, painting Belshazzar as arrogant and blasphemous. Rabbi Ḥama ben Rabbi Ḥanina even claims Belshazzar's banquet was "greater than that of his God!"
And what about Belshazzar's end? The midrash tells a rather gruesome story. Because Belshazzar threatened to punish any nation that rebelled against him, God declared that his punishment would come directly from Him. Ultimately, Belshazzar is murdered by his own gatekeepers, who mistake him for an imposter. Rabbi Elazar places his death at the beginning of the night, while Rabbi Shmuel bar Naḥman says it occurred when one can distinguish between a wolf and a dog – essentially, dawn.
The story concludes with a broader reflection on Babylon's downfall and the reasons for its initial rise. Merodakh Baladan, a Babylonian king, showed respect for the God of Israel, and as a result, God established three powerful Babylonian kings in his line. But when they turned to blasphemy, they were overthrown, paving the way for the redemption of Israel.
So, what can we take away from this deep dive into Shir HaShirim Rabbah 4? It's more than just a story about a king, a feast, and a mysterious message. It's a powerful exploration of divine justice, the consequences of arrogance, and the enduring hope for redemption. It reminds us that even in the darkest of times, the possibility of a brighter future always remains. And that sometimes, the most profound messages are hidden in plain sight, waiting for someone with the wisdom and insight to decode them.