Let's dive into Shir HaShirim Rabbah, a collection of rabbinic interpretations, and unpack just one verse: "Your eyes are doves."
Now, on the surface, it's a beautiful compliment, right? Poetic, even. But for the rabbis, nothing is ever just on the surface. This verse, they say, is about more than just physical beauty.
"Your eyes are doves," they begin, means "your eyes are the Sanhedrin." The Sanhedrin, you recall, was the ancient Jewish high court, the supreme council. So, how did they get from doves to a court of law? Because, as the text explains, the Sanhedrin are "the eyes of the congregation." They guide, they observe, they make judgments. Think of it like this: just as our bodies rely on our eyes to navigate the world, the Jewish people rely on the Sanhedrin for direction. We even see this idea echoed in Numbers 15:24: “It shall be, if from the eyes of the congregation…”
But why doves specifically? Here's where it gets really interesting. The rabbis launch into a flurry of comparisons, each revealing a different facet of the Jewish people.
"Just as this dove is faultless, so too, Israel is pleasant as they walk when they ascend on the occasions of the pilgrimage festivals." Doves are seen as pure, unblemished. Similarly, the Jewish people are seen as being at their most beautiful, most pleasing to God, during the pilgrimage festivals.
And it doesn't stop there. "Just as the dove is conspicuous, so too, Israel is conspicuous in haircut, circumcision, and ritual fringes." The dove is easily identifiable, and so too are the Jewish people, through their unique customs and practices. "Just as the dove is modest, so too, Israel is modest." There's a sense of humility and restraint associated with both.
Then comes a starker comparison: "Just as a dove extends its neck for slaughter, so too, Israel: 'For we are killed for You all day' (Psalms 44:23)." This is a powerful image of sacrifice and unwavering faith, even in the face of persecution.
But it's not all about suffering. "Just as the dove atones for evils, so too, Israel atones for the nations…" This refers to the seventy bulls sacrificed during the festival of Sukkot, which, according to tradition, correspond to the seventy nations of the world. The idea is that Israel's actions have a ripple effect, benefiting all of humanity. As we find in Midrash Rabbah, this is done "so that the world will not be bereft of them."
The text continues, drawing parallels between the dove's loyalty to its mate and Israel's unwavering devotion to God. Just as the dove instinctively knows its nest, so too do Torah scholars know their place within the community. Even when separated from their home, like the dove, the Jewish people will always return. “They will stir like a bird from Egypt…and like a dove from the land of Assyria," as it says in Hosea 11:11.
There's even a fascinating idea about how the dove attracts others. Rabbi says that just as a well-fed dove attracts others to its dovecote, so too does a wise elder attract converts to Judaism. Think of figures like Jethro and Rahab, who were drawn to the faith after hearing about its wisdom and values.
Then, the narrative shifts to a story about Rabbi Yehuda HaNasi, who, noticing his audience dozing off, tells a seemingly outlandish tale about an Egyptian woman giving birth to six hundred thousand children at once. It was Yokheved, the mother of Moses, he explains. In effect, Moses was the equivalent of six hundred thousand Israelites!
Finally, the interpretation circles back to the idea of the dove bringing light to the world, referencing the story of Noah's Ark. "The dove came to him in the evening, and there was an olive leaf plucked in its mouth…" (Genesis 8:11). Rabbi Berekhya points out that had the dove not killed the olive branch, "it would have become a great tree." Where did it get the branch? According to Rabbi Levi, it came from the Land of Israel, which was miraculously spared from the Flood's devastation. Others suggest it came from the Garden of Eden itself! But Rabbi Aivu offers a poignant interpretation: the dove brought something bitter from God, rather than something sweet from elsewhere, suggesting that even hardship from the Divine is preferable to ease from another source.
So, what does it all mean? This passage isn't just about doves or eyes. It's a multifaceted exploration of the Jewish people: their strengths, their struggles, their unique relationship with God, and their role in the world. It reminds us that even the simplest of images can hold profound meaning, waiting to be uncovered through careful study and interpretation. And maybe, just maybe, it encourages us to look at ourselves, and each other, with a little more depth and understanding.