The passage begins with a seemingly innocuous statement: "And Solomon became allied by marriage to Pharaoh king of Egypt..." (Melachim I 3:1). But this simple line opens a floodgate of interpretations and consequences.
Rabbi Yehudah, quoting Rav, makes a curious observation: "One should always live in the same place as his teacher because so long as Shimi ben Geira was alive, Shlomo did not marry Pharaoh’s daughter." What's the connection? The implication is that Shimi ben Geira, perhaps a figure of moral authority or a teacher, exerted a restraining influence on Solomon. His presence acted as a check on Solomon’s actions.
Now, you might be thinking, "Wait a minute! I thought we weren't supposed to crowd our teachers!" The text anticipates this, addressing the apparent contradiction. It explains that living near one's teacher is beneficial when one is subservient and receptive to their guidance. However, if one is not open to learning, distance might be better. It's all about the student's attitude.
Then, the story takes a truly wild turn. “At the moment when Shlomo married Pharaoh’s daughter the angel Gavriel came down and stuck a reed in the sea, which gathered a sandbank around it. At the moment when Yerovam ben Navat built his two golden calves, the great city of Rome was built upon this bank.”
Can you believe it? The marriage of Solomon and Pharaoh's daughter is linked, through divine intervention, to the eventual rise of Rome! It's a chain reaction of epic proportions. The initial act, seemingly a political alliance, sets in motion a series of events with far-reaching, even world-altering, consequences.
The passage continues, stating that Solomon converted Pharaoh's daughter. And for four years, he "loved the Lord..." (Melachim I 3:3), at least until he began building the Temple. But then, everything shifted when he "...took Pharaoh's daughter, and brought her into the city of David..." (Melachim I 3:1). This act, bringing her into the heart of the holy city, is seen as a turning point.
The prophet Jeremiah echoes this sentiment: "For this city has aroused My anger and My wrath since the day they built it..." (Yirmiyahu 32:31). The implication is that Solomon's actions, particularly his marriage and the integration of Pharaoh's daughter into Jerusalem, contributed to a decline, a straying from the divine path.
However, the story doesn't end on a completely negative note. The Yalkut Shimoni tells us that in Solomon’s old age, right before he died, the Ruach Hakodesh (רוח הקודש, the Holy Spirit) rested upon him. And he then spoke out three books – Mishlei (Proverbs), Shir ha-Shirim (Song of Songs) and Kohelet (Ecclesiastes). This suggests a redemption, a return to wisdom and divine inspiration at the end of his life.
So, what can we take away from this intricate, multi-layered passage? It highlights the interconnectedness of actions and consequences. It reminds us that even seemingly small decisions can have ripple effects far beyond what we can imagine. And it offers a glimmer of hope, suggesting that even after missteps, there's always the possibility of return, of finding wisdom and inspiration, even in our twilight years. It makes you think about the power of choices, doesn't it?