In Shir HaShirim Rabbah 7, the Rabbis unpack a seemingly simple verse – Song of Songs 2:7: “I administer an oath to you, daughters of Jerusalem, by the gazelles, and by the hinds of the field, that you will not awaken, and you will not rouse love, until it pleases.” What’s this oath all about? What are we not supposed to awaken?
Rabbi Eliezer kicks things off by suggesting the oath is sworn by the very foundations of existence: the heavens and the earth. Just as they consistently follow God's plan, so too should Israel uphold its oath, explains Etz Yosef. Then the verse shifts, "by the gazelles [bitzvaot]…and by the hinds of the field.” The word bitzvaot sounds like tzava, meaning "host," so it’s interpreted as a reference to the hosts of heaven and earth. And the "hinds of the field"? Those are the wild beasts, just as it says in Job 5:23, "For your covenant will be with the rocks of the field, and the beasts of the field will be at peace with you.”
But hold on, Rabbi Hanina bar Pappa and Rabbi Yehuda ben Rabbi Simon offer a different perspective. Rabbi Hanina says the oath is sworn by the patriarchs and matriarchs – Abraham, Isaac, Jacob, Sarah, Rebecca, Rachel, and Leah. Again, bitzvaot, is reinterpreted, this time as the avot, the patriarchs, who "established My stature [tzivyoni]," and in whom God imbued His stature. And the "hinds of the field" become the tribes of Israel, echoing Genesis 49:21: “Naphtali is a hind let loose.”
Rabbi Yehuda ben Rabbi Simon chimes in: maybe the oath is about circumcision, that visible sign – ot – of the covenant. So bitzvaot becomes connected to mitzvah, a commandment that has a sign [ot]. The "hinds of the field" are those who shed their blood, just like the gazelle and the hind, in this sacred ritual.
Then we get to the Rabbis' collective interpretation: the oath is sworn by the generation of persecution – a time of immense suffering, like the era of Rabbi Akiva and his colleagues. They see bitzvaot as those who "established My stature [tzivyoni] in the world," even as God imbued His stature in them. And the "hinds of the field" are those who gave their lives to sanctify God's name, echoing Psalm 44:23: “For we are killed all day over You.”
Rabbi Hiyya bar Abba paints a stark picture of the generation of persecution. He admits he would be willing to give his life for God, as long as it was quick. But in that time, the Romans would torture their victims to death, slowly and deliberately, with hot iron balls or slivers of reeds under fingernails. A gruesome reminder of the cost of faith. This is what David meant when he said "To You, Lord, I lift [esa] my soul" (Psalms 25:1), which the midrash interprets as "I will give up [asi]," because they would give their lives for the sanctification of God’s name.
Rabbi Oshaya adds that God tells Israel to wait for Him, and He will render them like the host of the heavens. Rabbi Yudan, quoting Rabbi Meir, elaborates: if you fulfill My oath, you will be like the heavenly host; if not, like the earthly host. Big difference!
Rabbi Yosei bar Hanina believes there are actually two oaths here: one for Israel, not to rebel against the kingdoms of the world, and one for the nations, not to oppress Israel too harshly. If they do, they risk hastening the end of days before its time. Rabbi Levi adds that God only allows wicked kings to rule over Israel to settle accounts, to punish them for their sins.
Rabbi Helbo goes even further, suggesting there are four oaths, based on the four times the expression "I administer an oath to you" appears in Song of Songs. These oaths are: not to rebel against the kingdoms, not to force the end of days, not to reveal Jewish secrets to the world, and not to ascend en masse to the Land of Israel.
Rabbi Onya connects these four oaths to four failed attempts to hasten the Messiah’s arrival: during the times of Amram, Deinai, ben Kozeva (Shimon Bar Kokhba), and Shutelaḥ ben Ephraim. He points to Psalms 78:9-10, about the sons of Ephraim who "turned back on the day of battle. They did not keep the covenant of God.”
The story of Shutelaḥ ben Ephraim is particularly poignant. They mistakenly calculated the 400-year exile prophesied to Abraham as beginning when God spoke to him, rather than 30 years later with the birth of Isaac (Genesis 15:13). Impatient, they went to war and suffered terrible losses. Why? Because, the text says, "they did not believe in the Lord and did not trust His salvation." They tried to force redemption and violated the oath.
Finally, we come back to the core of the verse: “That you will not awaken, and you will not rouse [love, until it pleases].” Rabbi Yudan interprets this in the context of Isaac’s love for Esau (Genesis 25:28). "Until it pleases" means until it becomes the wish of the elder, meaning until Esau’s merit is used up and no longer stands as a barrier to Israel's redemption.
Rabbi Berekhya offers a different perspective. He sees it as the love God has for Israel (Malachi 1:2). "Until it pleases" means until the heavenly kingdom desires it – until the attribute of justice itself demands it. Then, God will bring redemption with a loud voice and without delay. Therefore, it says: "Until it pleases."
So, what does it all mean? Maybe it's a reminder that love, in all its forms – human and divine – is a powerful force. Maybe it's a lesson in patience, in trusting the divine timing, even when we desperately want something to happen now. Maybe it's about understanding that true redemption comes not through force or impatience, but through faith, righteousness, and waiting until the time is right, until… it pleases.