It's not just a love poem, you know. Jewish tradition sees it as an allegory, a story of the love between God and Israel. And within its verses, we find echoes of the Temple, its destruction, and the hope for redemption.
Let's dive into a fascinating interpretation found in Shir HaShirim Rabbah, a collection of rabbinic teachings on the Song of Songs. It begins with the verse, "Behind your braid your hair is like a flock of goats that streams down from Mount Gilad" (Song of Songs 4:1). The Rabbis, in their insightful way, connect "streams down" (shegaleshu) to the idea of removing something (shegelashtem). What was removed from Mount Gilad? The Midrash suggests it's the Temple in Jerusalem!
The Temple, the place from which God's awe emanates, as it says, "You are awesome, God, from Your Temple" (Psalms 68:36). Shir HaShirim Rabbah emphasizes the sanctity of the Temple, even in its destruction, quoting, "You shall observe My Sabbaths and you shall revere My Sanctuary" (Leviticus 26:2) – "as it is sanctified in its destruction just as it was sanctified while it was built." Think about that for a moment. Even in ruins, its holiness persists. And if God didn't spare His own Temple, imagine the fate awaiting those who destroyed it!
But what was it, specifically, that was "taken away" from the Temple? Ah, this is where it gets really interesting. The Midrash continues by referencing "Your teeth are like a flock of ordered ewes" (Song of Songs 4:2), interpreting this to mean the vestments of the High Priest. These weren't just fancy clothes; according to the Rabbis, they had the power to atone for specific sins.
Now, the Talmud (Yoma 71b) details the eight vestments of the High Priest and the four worn by a common priest. Let's explore what the Rabbis said each one atoned for.
The tunic, for example, atoned for murderers. Or, according to another opinion, for those who wear garments of mixed fibers – shaatnez as it's known in Hebrew. The trousers atoned for forbidden sexual relations, reminding us of the verse, "Make them linen trousers to cover the flesh of their nakedness" (Exodus 28:42). The mitre? It atoned for the haughty, as the verse states, "You shall place the mitre on his head" (Exodus 29:6).
And what about the sash? Well, some say it atoned for thieves, because it had hidden spaces within it, like the secret actions of a thief. Others say it atoned for criminal thoughts. Rabbi Levi explained that the sash was incredibly long, wrapped around the priest many times, representing the twisted thoughts of those with dishonest intent.
The breastplate atoned for those who distort justice, directly linked to the verse, "You shall place in the breastplate of judgment" (Exodus 28:30). The ephod atoned for idol worshippers, connecting to Hosea's words, "No ephod and no terafim" (Hosea 3:4) – terafim being household idols.
The robe, according to Rabbi Simon in the name of Rabbi Yonatan of Beit Guvrin, atoned for evil speech. There was no specific atonement for evil speech, but the Torah designated the sound of the bells on the robe to atone for it: "It shall be upon Aaron to serve, and its sound shall be heard…" (Exodus 28:35). The sound of the bells would counteract the sound of gossip and slander. He makes a similar point regarding unintentional manslaughter: The death of the High Priest atones for this sin, as it says, "He shall dwell in it until the death of the High Priest" (Numbers 35:25).
Finally, the frontplate atoned for the impudent, or, according to another opinion, for blasphemers. The Midrash draws a parallel between "On Aaron’s forehead (metzaḥ)" (Exodus 28:38) and "Yet you had the impudence (metzaḥ) of a harlot…" (Jeremiah 3:3). In the case of blasphemers, the Midrash connects the frontplate to the story of David and Goliath, where the stone "penetrated his forehead" (I Samuel 17:49).
Speaking of Goliath, the Midrash even delves into why he fell on his face! Rather than backward, as one might expect. Rabbi Huna says it’s because Dagon, his god, was engraved on his heart, fulfilling the verse, "I will cast your carcasses upon the carcasses of your idols" (Leviticus 26:30). Another explanation is that God made him fall forward so David wouldn’t have to walk as far to cut off his head. And yet another: so that the mouth that blasphemed God would be buried in the dust. It's fascinating how the Rabbis find meaning in every detail!
The Midrash then returns to the Song of Songs, interpreting "That have come up from bathing" (Song of Songs 4:2) to mean that the priests and their vestments atone for Israel. "That are all paired" (Song of Songs 4:2) refers to the braided chains of gold on the breastplate, and "And there is none missing among them" (Song of Songs 4:2) signifies that none of the vestments were tattered. "Your lips are like a scarlet thread" (Song of Songs 4:3) alludes to the sacred crown, and "Your speech is lovely" (Song of Songs 4:3) is associated with the frontplate.
The Midrash concludes with a story about Rabbi Yonatan and a Cuthite (Samaritan) who tries to convince him to pray on Mount Gerizim instead of in Jerusalem. The Cuthite claims Mount Gerizim is blessed because it wasn't flooded during the Flood. Rabbi Yonatan's donkey driver cleverly refutes this argument, pointing out that either Mount Gerizim was a high mountain (and thus covered by the Flood) or a low mountain (and also covered, since the waters rose fifteen cubits). Impressed by the driver's wisdom, Rabbi Yonatan praises him with verses highlighting the blessings and intelligence found even among the seemingly ordinary people of Israel. "Your temple is like a pomegranate slice" (Song of Songs 4:3) – even the empty among Israel is packed with answers like a pomegranate.
So, what do we take away from all this? It’s more than just ancient interpretations of a biblical love poem. It is a reminder of the power of symbolism, the enduring sanctity of sacred spaces, and the profound wisdom found within Jewish tradition. It’s a testament to the idea that even in destruction, there is hope, and even in the simplest among us, there is the potential for extraordinary insight. And maybe, just maybe, it encourages us to look a little deeper, to find the hidden meanings in the everyday moments of our own lives.