Our ancestors certainly did. And they found a beautiful way to grapple with that tension, a way that still resonates today. It all starts with a verse from the Song of Songs (6:10): “Who is she who appears like dawn, fair like the moon, pure like the sun, formidable like banners?”
What does it mean?
The ancient rabbis, in Shir HaShirim Rabbah, a collection of Midrashic interpretations on the Song of Songs, unpack this verse with breathtaking insight. Imagine Rabbi Ḥiyya and Rabbi Shimon ben Ḥalafta walking in the Arbel Valley at dawn. As the light breaks, Rabbi Ḥiyya says to Rabbi Shimon bar Ḥalafta that this is how the redemption of Israel will burst forth. Like dawn, it will start small, sparkle, increase, and then spread continuously. He references Micah 7:8: “Though I sit in darkness, the Lord is a light for me.”
Think about that for a moment. Redemption isn't a sudden, blinding flash. It's a gradual, persistent emergence from darkness. It’s a process.
But the verse is complex. It doesn’t just say "like dawn." It continues: "fair like the moon, pure like the sun, formidable like banners.” The rabbis saw each phrase as a reflection of Israel's multifaceted nature, acknowledging both its strengths and perceived weaknesses.
"Like dawn," the Midrash asks, "if so, just as the dawn has no shade, could it be that the same is true of Israel? Is it true that they have no protection?" Then comes the counterpoint: "Fair like the moon." But just as the light of the moon isn't always clear, is that true of Israel? And then: "Pure like the sun," referencing Judges 5:31: “Let those who love Him be like the powerfully rising sun.” But just as the sun beats down, is that true of Israel too?
It’s a fascinating back-and-forth. The rabbis aren't shying away from the hard questions. They’re wrestling with the complexities of a nation’s identity, acknowledging its vulnerabilities while celebrating its resilience. The moon, which sometimes wanes and sometimes waxes, reflecting the cyclical nature of life, is followed by the steadfastness of the sun. The Midrash emphasizes that Israel, like the moon, exists in both this world and the World to Come, mirroring Genesis 1:18, "To rule by day and by night."
And then, the final image: "Formidable like banners." But what does that mean?
The Midrash explains that this refers to the banners On High, like Mikhael and his banner, Gavriel and his banner. The angels induce fear, as Ezekiel 1:18 states: “They had backs, and they were tall, and they were fearsome.” Rabbi Yehoshua equates this to the fear inspired by earthly leaders – dukes, governors, and generals. Daniel 7:7 says it plainly, "Fearsome, terrifying, and strong."
But here's where it gets even more interesting. Rabbi Yudan and Rabbi Huna, citing different authorities, delve into the nuances of the Hebrew. The word used isn't kidgalim (like banners, masculine), but kanidgalot (feminine). This subtle shift alludes to the galut (exile). One interpretation connects it to the generation of Hezekiah, a time of distress, as Isaiah 37:3 says: “A day of distress and rebuke.” Yet, even in distress, they were exalted, as 2 Chronicles 32:23 notes: “He was thereafter exalted in the eyes of all the nations.”
Another interpretation, also from Rabbi Huna in the name of Rabbi Elazar HaModa’i, sees kanidgalot not as a generation sliding into exile, but one that would slide toward exile, but would NOT be exiled. This, they say, is the generation of the messianic king. This king will inspire fear, as Isaiah 11:4 prophesies: “He will strike the world with the rod of his mouth.”
Finally, Rabbi Elazar, citing Rabbi Yosei bar Yirmeya, says that in that time, Israel will be moving from journey to journey. Rabbi Yehoshua of Sikhnin adds a beautiful image: the congregation of Israel saying, "The Holy One blessed be He brought me to a wine cellar," associating this with Sinai, where Mikhael and Gavriel stood with their banners. The people yearn to travel like the supernal array, and God responds by decreeing that they shall encamp by banners, as Numbers 2:2 states: “Each at his banner with the insignias by their patrilineal houses, the children of Israel shall encamp.”
So, what does it all mean for us today? Perhaps it’s a reminder that we, like the Israelites of old, are a complex tapestry of light and shadow, strength and vulnerability. We are like the dawn, the moon, the sun, and the banners – all at once. And that it is in embracing this complexity that we find our true strength. We are always on a journey, moving from one encampment to another. And like those ancient Israelites, we too have our banners to guide us, reminding us of our heritage and our hope for the future.