Even your weaknesses, your struggles, they are seen and cherished.
Let’s dive into a beautiful passage from Shir HaShirim Rabbah, a collection of rabbinic interpretations of the Song of Songs. We're looking at verse 7:6: “Your head is upon you like the Carmel, and the locks of your head are like purple wool; the king is bound in the tresses.” What could this possibly mean?
The rabbis, in their infinite wisdom, unpack this verse with layers of meaning. "Your head is upon you like the Carmel," God says to Israel. But what's so special about Mount Carmel? The text offers a surprising answer: "the rashim among you are as dear to Me as Elijah who climbed Mount Carmel." Rashim. It means "indigent," "poor." So, God is saying that the poor, the vulnerable, those who feel they have nothing to offer, are as precious as the mighty prophet Elijah. Think about that!
Why Elijah specifically? The passage recalls Elijah’s desperate prayer on Mount Carmel, described in 1 Kings 18:42: "Elijah climbed to the peak of the Carmel and he placed his face between his knees." The Midrash asks, why this strange posture? Because, the rabbis say, "He said before the Holy One blessed be He: We have no merit, look to the covenant." Elijah humbled himself, acknowledging his own lack, and pleaded for God's mercy based on the covenant with Israel, symbolized by circumcision. He put his head between his knees as an allusion to the covenant of circumcision.
The message is clear: Even in our perceived inadequacy, in our moments of feeling utterly bereft of merit, we are connected to something greater. Our vulnerability itself becomes a point of connection to the Divine.
The verse continues, "And the locks [dalat] of your head [roshekh] are like purple wool.” Here, the rabbis connect the dalat – the locks, or even the "poor" (a similar word) – with another figure: David. "The Holy One blessed be He said: The poor [dalim] and the indigent [rashim] in Israel are as dear to me as David," referencing Zechariah 12:8: “The feeble among them will on that day be like David.” Some even suggest it alludes to Daniel, who, as Daniel 5:29 tells us, was clothed in purple wool. Both David and Daniel, despite their flaws and challenges, were chosen and beloved by God.
Isn’t it amazing how these interpretations weave together? The poor, the vulnerable, the seemingly insignificant are elevated to the level of prophets and kings!
Finally, we get to the last part of the verse: "The king is bound in the tresses." This, the Midrash says, refers to "the King of kings, the Holy One blessed be He," who, as Psalms 93:1 declares, "is clothed in grandeur." But "bound"? How can God be bound?
The text explains that God is “bound in the tresses [barehatim]" because "He bound Himself with an oath that He would rest His Divine Presence in the midst of Israel, in the beams [barehatim] of Jacob our patriarch." God's very essence is intertwined with the fate of Israel. This binding is attributed to the merit of our patriarchs, Abraham and Jacob. Rabbi Abba bar Kahana and Rabbi Levi offer two interpretations: either through Abraham, who "ran [rahat]" to prepare a meal for the angels (Genesis 18:7), or through Jacob, who displayed peeled rods [barehatim] before the flocks (Genesis 30:38).
Rabbi Berekhya offers yet another fascinating interpretation: the "king" is actually Moses, as Deuteronomy 33:5 states, "He became king in Yeshurun." But Moses was "bound" by the decree that he would not enter the Land of Israel. Why? Because of the "water troughs [barehatim] of the waters of contention," as Numbers 20:13 tells us. Even Moses, the greatest prophet, was bound by his limitations, by the consequences of his actions. Rabbi Nehemya continues this line of thought, explaining that God appointed Moses as king over Israel, and a king issues decrees that others must fulfill.
What's the takeaway from all this? This passage from Shir HaShirim Rabbah reveals a profound truth about God's relationship with humanity. It's not about perfection, it's about connection. It’s about the recognition that even in our weaknesses, our vulnerabilities, our moments of feeling utterly insignificant, we are bound to the Divine. We are cherished. Our very limitations can become sources of strength and connection.
So, the next time you feel like you're not enough, remember Elijah on Mount Carmel, David the shepherd king, and even Moses, bound by his fate. Remember that you, too, are precious, just as you are.