Rabbi Yitzchak, in Shir HaShirim Rabbah 6, offers a fascinating, if unsettling, interpretation of the events following the plague that killed twenty-four thousand Israelites. This plague, of course, was brought on by the Israelites' involvement with idolatry after being seduced by Moabite and Midianite women (Numbers 25). According to Rabbi Yitzchak, when the Israelites went to war with Midian, they would enter the homes of Midianite women in pairs. One would blacken her face, while the other would remove her jewelry. Can you imagine the scene?

The women would protest, "Are we not creations of the Holy One, blessed be He? Why are you doing this to us?" And the Israelites would retort, "Isn't it enough that we received our punishment because of you?" A brutal tit-for-tat, a stark reminder of the verse, “The Lord said to Moses: Take all the leaders of the people, and hang them for the Lord opposite the sun, [and the enflamed wrath of the Lord will be withdrawn from Israel]” (Numbers 25:4).

Rabbi Aivu points to the core sin: “They cleaved to Baal Peor” (Psalms 106:28). Baal Peor was a deity whose worship involved… well, let's just say it was deeply immoral and offensive to Jewish values. The Israelites had succumbed, and the consequences were devastating.

Then, Rabbi Yitzchak shares a parable. A provincial woman had a Kushite (Ethiopian) maidservant – a detail that emphasizes the maidservant’s dark skin tone. The maidservant overhears her mistress’s friend gossiping about how the master might divorce his wife because he saw her hands blackened with coal. The maidservant, in her naivete, dreams of becoming the new wife. But the friend quickly bursts her bubble. "If he's divorcing his wife, whom he loves, for a little coal on her hands, what chance do you have, you who are completely black from your mother's womb?"

Ouch. It’s a harsh image, isn’t it? But Rabbi Yitzchak uses it to illustrate a deeper point.

The nations of the world taunt Israel, saying, "This nation has exchanged their Glory," referencing the verse, “They exchanged their glory [for the cast image of a grass-eating bull]” (Psalms 106:20). In other words, they accuse Israel of abandoning God for idols.

But Israel retorts, "If we, who did so for a single moment, are liable in this manner, you, all the more so!" It’s like saying, "Yeah, we messed up, but you've been doing it your whole lives!"

And then comes another, more hopeful, parable. Israel compares itself to a prince who goes out into the wilderness and gets sunburned. His face darkens. But when he returns to the city, a little water and a bath restore his former beauty. "So it is with us," Israel declares. "Even if the sun of idol worship has darkened us, you are darkened from your mother's womb."

Why? Because even in the womb, those nations were steeped in idolatry. As the Midrash Rabbah tells us, when a pregnant woman enters her house of idol worship, she bows and prostrates herself to the idol, she and her unborn son.

What's the takeaway here? It's not just about pointing fingers. It’s about recognizing the potential for redemption, even after a period of darkness. While others may be steeped in negative behavior from birth, Israel has the ability to cleanse itself and return to its former glory. The image of the prince regaining his beauty after being darkened by the sun is a powerful metaphor for the resilience and the inherent goodness within the Jewish people.

It's a complex and challenging passage, filled with uncomfortable truths and a glimmer of hope. It forces us to confront the consequences of our actions, the dangers of idolatry, and the enduring promise of renewal. It begs the question: How do we ensure we are constantly striving to cleanse ourselves, to return to our "former beauty," and to avoid the darkness that threatens to engulf us?