The ancient rabbis grappled with this feeling, turning to the beautiful, enigmatic verses of the Song of Songs (Shir HaShirim) for answers. Let's dive into one such interpretation from Shir HaShirim Rabbah.
The verse in question is Song of Songs 5:3-4: “I have removed my tunic; how can I don it? I have washed my feet; how can I soil them? My beloved extended his hand through the hole, and my core was stirred for him.”
Now, on the surface, this sounds like a lover’s lament, right? But the rabbis, masters of drash—interpretive storytelling—see layers of meaning beneath the surface.
Rabbi Yoḥanan kicks things off by pointing out the obvious: everyone knows how to get dressed! So, what's really going on here?
One interpretation, brought by both Rabbi Ḥanina and Rabbi Yoḥanan, connects this verse to a dark period in Jewish history: the destruction of the First Temple by Nebuchadnezzar. They suggest that the "tunic" represents two great garments stripped from Israel: the priesthood and the royalty. "I have removed my tunic" then becomes a lament over the loss of these institutions. "I have washed my feet" alludes to cleansing from the "filth of idol worship." Even so, "my beloved extended His hand through the hole," symbolizing God reaching out to Israel even in exile, bringing about the Second Temple through Cyrus.
Rabbi Abba bar Kahana takes this further. Why a "hole"? Holes, he says, are breeding grounds for creeping things. He imagines the congregation of Israel saying to God: Wouldn’t it have been better to have been redeemed by someone like Daniel, a truly righteous person, rather than through Cyrus? Yet, despite the imperfect circumstances, "my core was stirred for him." There was still excitement and gratitude for the rebuilding of the Temple, even if it was a diminished version of the first.
And it goes both ways. Rabbi Azarya quotes God as saying, "I bestow kindness." And we respond, "My core was stirred for him." It's a reciprocal longing, a divine echo of human yearning. As it says in Jeremiah 4:19, "My innards, My innards, I am trembling." God seeks closeness with us just as we seek closeness with God.
But that's not the end of the story. The rabbis aren't content with just one interpretation.
Rabbi Yoḥanan, this time quoting Reish Lakish, offers another perspective. He says, again, everyone knows how to dress. So what does it mean? This time the verse becomes about Shavuot, the festival commemorating the giving of the Torah. You see, sleep on Shavuot is pleasant, and the night is short. The midrash interprets this as the Israelites oversleeping and not being ready for the momentous occasion.
Rabbi Yudan adds that not even a flea bit them! They slept soundly until God Himself woke them. “I have washed my feet” – from the filth of idol worship. Even though the Israelites weren't fully prepared after their time in Egypt, "my beloved extended His hand through the hole." God still reached out to give them the Torah.
Rabbi Ami compares God to a poor person seeking charity. And yet, despite their shortcomings, "my core was stirred for him." As it says in Jeremiah 31:19, "Therefore My innards yearn for him; I will surely have mercy on him, declares the Lord."
So what can we take away from all this? The rabbis, through their interpretations, reveal a God who desires connection, even when we're imperfect, even when we're not quite ready. It's a reminder that even in our moments of doubt, regret, or perceived inadequacy, the opportunity for connection, for redemption, is always there. And perhaps, just perhaps, our yearning for that connection is mirrored in the Divine itself.