Shir HaShirim Rabbah, the rabbinic commentary on the Song of Songs, explores this idea in a powerful way. It teaches us that before we sin, even the creatures of the world are in awe of us. But after we stumble, that balance shifts. We become filled with terror, afraid of everyone and everything.
Isn't that a fascinating thought?
The text illustrates this with several examples, starting with Adam himself. Rabbi tells us that before his transgression, Adam could hear the voice of the Divine while standing tall and unafraid. But after eating from the Tree of Knowledge, when he heard that same voice, he hid in fear (Genesis 3:8, 3:10). Rabbi Aivu even suggests that Adam's very stature diminished at that moment, shrinking to a mere hundred cubits! Rabbi Levi adds that before the sin, Adam heard a soothing divine voice, but afterward, only a thundering one.
It's not just about Adam, though. The midrash extends this concept to the entire Israelite nation. Before their sins, they could gaze upon the glory of God through multiple partitions without fear. But after, they couldn't even look at an intermediary. Remember the story of Moses coming down from Mount Sinai? Exodus 34:35 tells us "They saw the skin of Moses’s face, that it was radiant," but Exodus 34:30 continues, "They feared to approach him." Rabbi Pinhas and Rabbi Avun, citing Rabbi Hanin, even suggest that the intermediary – Moses – was affected by their transgression!
And consider this: the midrash states that before Israel sinned, "The kings of armies flee again and again" (Psalms 68:13). Rabbi Aivu interprets "kings of armies" not as human monarchs, but as the malkhei of armies—the kings of the angels, Michael and Gabriel. They were so awed by Moses's face they could not even look at it. But after the Israelites’ sin, Moses himself couldn't even look at ordinary angels. He was filled with dread, as Deuteronomy 9:19 says, "For I was in dread of the wrath and the fury."
The text continues, bringing in the examples of David and Solomon. Before his transgression with Batsheva (II Samuel 11), David proclaimed, "The Lord is my light and my salvation; whom shall I fear?" (Psalms 27:1). But after, II Samuel 17:2 tells us, "I will come upon him, and he will be weary and discouraged."
Similarly, before his own sin, Solomon had power over the sharim and sharot. Now, the meaning of these terms is debated. Some say it means princes and princesses (sarim and sarot). Others suggest it's a reference to male and female demons (shedim veshedot), as found in a parallel midrash in Yalkut Shimoni Tehillim 795. This is supported by the midrash's interpretation of Ecclesiastes 2:8. "I acquired for myself male and female singers [sharim vesharot]," which the midrash then translates to "male singers [meshorerim] and female singers [meshorerot]"; "and the pleasures of people," which the midrash interprets as bathhouses; "chests [shida] and wagons [shidot]," which the midrash interprets as male and female demons [sheda veshedta] who would heat them. After his sin, Solomon had to surround his bed with sixty valiant men, each armed with a sword, because he was afraid of spirits.
What does this all mean? Is it simply a cautionary tale about the consequences of sin? Perhaps. But it's also a profound reflection on the nature of fear and how it shapes our world. When we are aligned with our highest selves, we radiate a certain power, a certain confidence that commands respect. But when we stray from that path, we become vulnerable, exposed, and filled with dread. It's a reminder to strive for righteousness, not just to avoid punishment, but to reclaim that sense of inner strength and fearless connection to the Divine. What kind of world do we create for ourselves when we live in fear, versus when we live in faith?