The mystics of old certainly did. And they found echoes of that very quest in the most unexpected places, even in the sensuous poetry of the Song of Songs.
Today we’re diving into Shir HaShirim Rabbah, a rabbinic commentary on the Song of Songs, specifically verse 3:10: “He made its pillars of silver, its cushion of gold, its seat of purple wool; its interior is plated with love, from the daughters of Jerusalem.” (Song of Songs 3:10). Sounds beautiful, right? But what does it mean?
The Rabbis, in their inimitable way, didn’t take this verse literally. Instead, they saw it as a coded message, a glimpse into the divine. "He made its pillars of silver," they said, referring to the pillars of the Tabernacle. We can see this connection mirrored in Exodus 27:11: “The hooks of the pillars and their bands, silver.” See how they connect the verses? It's like a cosmic scavenger hunt!
And what about "its cushion of gold?" Well, that’s linked to the gold plating of the Tabernacle’s planks, as described in Exodus 26:29: “You shall plate the planks with gold.” And the "seat of purple wool?" That evokes the curtain of blue and purple wool in the Tabernacle, as we find in Exodus 26:31. Each element of the verse becomes a symbolic building block.
But the real kicker is the last phrase: "its interior is plated with love." What does that refer to?
Rabbi Yudan suggests it signifies the merit of Torah study and the righteousness of those who dedicate themselves to it. Think about that: the very act of engaging with sacred texts, of wrestling with their meaning, creates a space filled with divine love.
But Rabbi Azarya, quoting Rabbi Yuda in the name of Rabbi Simon, takes it even further. He says that the "interior plated with love" actually represents the Divine Presence itself – the Shekhinah.
This brings us to a fascinating paradox. How can the Divine Presence, which is infinite, fit within the limited space of the Tabernacle? One verse says, "The priests were unable to stand and serve [due to the cloud]" (I Kings 8:11), suggesting a tangible, overwhelming presence. Yet another verse says, "And the courtyard was filled with the aura of the glory of the Lord" (Ezekiel 10:4), implying a more contained manifestation.
Rabbi Yehoshua of Sikhnin, quoting Rabbi Levi, offers a beautiful analogy to reconcile these ideas. He compares the Tent of Meeting to a cave beside the sea. The sea rages, and water flows into the cave, filling it completely. But does the sea lose any of its vastness? Of course not!
Similarly, the Tent of Meeting was filled with the aura of the Divine Presence, but the world itself lost nothing of that Presence. It's a powerful image, isn't it? The Divine doesn't diminish by being present in a specific place; it simply manifests in a concentrated way.
So, when did this happen? When did the Shekhinah, the Divine Presence, truly take up residence in the world? According to this tradition, it was on the day the Tabernacle was erected, as Numbers 7:1 states: “It was on the day that Moses finished [erecting the Tabernacle].”
Think about that. A physical structure, built with human hands, became a vessel for the infinite. It’s a reminder that even in the most ordinary things, in the most mundane acts, we have the potential to create spaces for the Divine to dwell. It's not just about grand temples or elaborate rituals, but about the intention and love we bring to whatever we do. Maybe that's the real meaning of "its interior is plated with love."