How is your beloved more than another beloved, that you administer an oath to us so?" (Song of Songs 5:9-10).
Essentially, they're asking, "What makes God so special? What makes Him different from all the other gods people worship?" It’s a question that echoes through the ages, and Israel's response is both simple and deeply powerful.
"My beloved is clear and ruddy," Israel replies, "more eminent than ten thousand" (Song of Songs 5:10). But what does that even mean?
Here, the commentary dives into the imagery. "Clear and ruddy" – these aren't just pretty words. They're metaphors. Shir HaShirim Rabbah explains that "clear" represents the attribute of mercy, while "ruddy" signifies the attribute of justice.
Think about the Exodus from Egypt. As we find in this Midrash, God was "clear" – merciful – to the Israelites, shielding them from the plagues. "I will pass through the land of Egypt… and I will pass over you" (Exodus 12:12-13). But for the Egyptians? God was "red" – bringing justice upon them as it is stated, "The Lord hurled the Egyptians in the midst of the sea" (Exodus 14:27).
The same pattern repeats at the Red Sea. "Clear" for Israel, who walked through on dry land (Exodus 14:29). "Red" for the Egyptians, swallowed by the waves (Exodus 14:27). It's a vivid picture of a God who acts differently towards those who are faithful and those who are not.
But it doesn't stop there. The text goes on to say that God is "clear" in the World to Come, and "red" in this world. Now, that’s a little harder to swallow, isn’t it? Why would God bring hardship upon the righteous in this world?
Rabbi Levi bar Ḥaita offers a few perspectives. Perhaps God uses hardship to punish us for our sins, or to motivate us to become better people. Perhaps the reward for the righteous is reserved for the World to Come. He continues, "It is clear for me on Shabbat, and it is red for me all the days of the week. It is clear for me on Rosh HaShana, and it is red for me the rest of the year." These are powerful reminders that even in times of difficulty, moments of clarity and grace exist.
Finally, the text circles back to the idea of God being "more eminent than ten thousand." Rabbi Abba bar Kahana makes a striking comparison: earthly kings are known by their royal garb, their external displays of power. But God? He is fire. His very servants are fire! As Deuteronomy 33:2 says, "He came [ve'ata] from the holy tens of thousands, [from His right, a fiery law to them] – it is a sign [ot] from the midst of the holy tens of thousands." It is a sign of His very Essence.
So, what's the answer to the nations' question? How is God different? It's not just about miracles or displays of power. It's about a complex relationship, a balance of mercy and justice, a constant presence in both our triumphs and our struggles. It's about a God who is so much more than any earthly comparison, a God whose very essence is fire.
And maybe, just maybe, the question isn't really about proving God's superiority, but about recognizing the unique and deeply personal connection each of us has with the Divine. What does "clear and ruddy" mean to you?