The Song of Songs, that most passionate and allegorical of biblical books, wrestles with that very feeling. to a fascinating interpretation from Shir HaShirim Rabbah, a classical midrashic commentary on the Song of Songs, and see what we can uncover.
The verse we’re unpacking is Song of Songs 8:1: "If only you were like a brother to me, who suckled the breasts of my mother! I would find you outside; I would kiss you, yet they would not despise me." It's a verse brimming with yearning, hinting at a relationship that transcends the ordinary. But what kind of brotherly love are we really talking about here?
The midrash immediately jumps into a series of thought experiments. "Like what brother?" it asks. Cain to Abel? Yikes. Remember that story? "Cain arose against Abel his brother, and killed him," as Genesis 4:8 grimly reminds us. Definitely not the kind of brotherly affection the verse is aiming for!
Okay, how about Ishmael and Isaac? Nope. The midrash reminds us that Ishmael hated Isaac. Esau and Jacob? Again, no dice. "Esau hated Jacob," says Genesis 27:41. Joseph’s brothers to Joseph? They were jealous, as Genesis 37:11 tells us. So, if all these famous brotherly relationships are tainted with hatred and jealousy, where do we find the kind of pure, unadulterated love the verse is seeking?
The midrash pivots: "One who suckled the breasts of my mother – that is to say, like Joseph to Benjamin." Ah! Now we’re getting somewhere. Joseph, who loved his younger brother Benjamin wholeheartedly. Remember when "Joseph saw Benjamin with them" (Genesis 43:16)? The story goes on to say that Joseph wept when he saw Benjamin (Genesis 43:30). This is a love that moves you to tears; a love that overcomes obstacles.
Next, the midrash explores the phrase, "I would find you outside; I would kiss you." What does "outside" even mean in this context? "Outside," we're told, "is the wilderness, which is outside the settled area." A place of vulnerability, of rawness, away from the constraints of society. And the kiss? The midrash offers the example of Moses and Aaron. "He went, and he met him at the mountain of God, and he kissed him" (Exodus 4:27). A kiss of reunion, of shared purpose, filled with emotion.
Finally, "They would not despise me." This speaks to the fear of judgment, the worry about what others will think. Rabbi Pinḥas shares a story to illustrate this: Two siblings lived in different towns, Meron and Gush Ḥalav. When the house of the one in Meron caught fire, his sister from Gush Ḥalav rushed to him, hugging, embracing, and kissing him. She declared, "This does not demean me, as my brother was in dire straits and was delivered from them." Her love transcended social expectations.
Isn't that powerful? This midrash isn't just about sibling relationships; it's about the yearning for authentic connection, a bond so strong it defies societal norms and expectations. It's about finding that love in unexpected places, even in the "wilderness" of our lives. It's a reminder that true love – like the love between Joseph and Benjamin, or the reunion of Moses and Aaron – is worth fighting for, even if it means challenging the status quo. It makes you wonder, what "wilderness" are you willing to venture into for the sake of a truly meaningful connection?