It’s a humbling, and frankly, a little mind-blowing thought. And it's exactly what we find explored in Shir HaShirim Rabbah, a collection of rabbinic teachings and interpretations on the Song of Songs.
The rabbis grapple with this very idea, using two pivotal moments in Jewish history as examples.
Rabbi Yudan points to the story of Hezekiah and the Assyrian siege of Jerusalem. Imagine Hezekiah and his people, gathered for the Pesach (Passover) offering, celebrating their faith and praying for deliverance. But, as Rabbi Yudan notes, quoting II Kings 19:35, "It was on that night that an angel of the Lord went out and smote in the camp of the Assyrians.” The miracle had already happened! While they were still in the midst of their ritual, God was already acting on their behalf.
Then Rabbi Abahu takes us back even further, to the Exodus from Egypt. Think about Moses and the Israelites, huddled together, preparing their own Pesach offering before their liberation. Exodus 12:29 tells us, “It was at midnight, and the Lord smote every firstborn in the land of Egypt.” Just as they were observing the ritual, God was unleashing the final plague that would shatter Pharaoh's resolve. Talk about divine timing!
But Rabbi Abahu's interpretation goes even deeper. He suggests that the blood of the Paschal offering had an overwhelming odor. So overwhelming, in fact, that God Himself had to provide a beautiful fragrance from the Garden of Eden to make it bearable. Imagine that – the stench of sacrifice transformed by divine intervention into something sweet and pleasing. It’s a powerful image of God’s ability to take something unpleasant and turn it into something holy.
This leads to another fascinating layer of the story. The Israelites, overwhelmed by the aroma, desperately wanted to partake of the offering. But there was a catch: only those who were part of the covenant, those who were truly "in," could participate. "No foreigner shall partake of it," Moses tells them, relaying God's command from Exodus 12:43.
What follows is a series of conversions, each driven by a deep desire to share in this sacred meal. First, they separated the foreigners among them. Then, they circumcised their slaves, as Exodus 12:44 stipulates: “And any man’s slave, purchased with silver: you shall circumcise him, then he shall partake of it.” Finally, the Israelites themselves, those who had not yet undergone circumcision, took it upon themselves to fulfill the commandment. “All uncircumcised men shall not partake of it,” Moses declares, quoting Exodus 12:48.
The text describes them, each man placing his sword on his thigh and circumcising himself. A powerful image of commitment and self-sacrifice!
Who performed these mass circumcisions? Here, the rabbis offer differing opinions. Rabbi Berekhya says Moses performed the circumcisions, Aaron uncovered the brit milah (covenant of circumcision), and Joshua provided water. Others say it was Joshua who circumcised, Aaron who uncovered, and Moses who gave them to drink. This second opinion draws support from Joshua 5:2, where God commands Joshua to "Make flint knives for yourself and circumcise the children of Israel again, a second time.” The text calls the location "the Hill of the Foreskins." Rabbi offers a striking image: the Israelites literally created a hill made of the physical reminders of their commitment to the covenant.
So, what does it all mean? What are we supposed to take away from these ancient stories and rabbinic interpretations?
Perhaps it’s about the nature of faith itself. It's about recognizing that God is often working behind the scenes, even before we are fully aware of our own needs or prayers. It's about the transformative power of commitment and the willingness to embrace a covenant, even when it requires sacrifice. And maybe, just maybe, it’s about recognizing that even the most overwhelming "stench" can be transformed into something beautiful and sacred through God's grace.