Every sefer found in what we call Tanach underwent a process of canonization. The only scriptures that were canonized were those that had some moral or halachic value for posterity, "nitzricha lidorot". However, there was fierce opposition to the inclusion of Shir HaShirim in Tanach. On a superficial level, Shir HaShirim is an account of the romantic and even erotic experience shared between a man and a woman. While this pierce of poetic prose does describe this part of the human condition in graphic detail, the edifying potential of the work for the reader can be questioned. To further the contention of the opposition, the name of HaKadosh Baruch Hu does not appear once, neither explicitly nor implicitly (unlike Megilat Esther), throughout the entire Shir HaShirim.

 

The Mishna in Yadayim (3:5) records a dispute among the Tanaim, as to whether one's unwashed hands can contract tuma by touching the letters or the klaf (parchment) on which Shir HaShirim is written. Rabbi Akiva rules in the affirmative, stating, "shekol haketuvim kodesh, veShir Hashirim kodesh kodoshim, "all scriptures are holy, but Shir HaShirim is the holiest". What is so holy about Shir HaShirim?

 

The standard answer offered assumes that the words of Shir HaShirim may not be taken literally. Metaphorically, the love described therein refers to the intense love that exists between HaKadosh Baruch Hu and Kneset Yisrael- the Jewish nation. In countless midrashim, Chazal expound on this beautiful metaphor, in all its intricate facets. One walks away from reading Shir HaShirim with the realization that there is virtually nothing about the close personal relationship we share with HaShem that is not expressed in Shir HaShirim. In a sense, the holiness of Shir HaShirim relates directly to the exclusive intimacy that the Jewish people enjoys with HaShem.

 

Nevertheless, it is still difficult to understand why Chazal would enjoin us to read Shir HaShirim during Pesach, and among Ashkenazim, on Shabbat Chol HaMoed Pesach as part of the services. In the Jewish tradition, what is most holy and sublime is concealed. For example, we do not advocate for the public teaching of the Kabbala or of other hidden works, simply because of the tremendous potential for the masses to misconstrue the true intent of what is being taught. It is also partly for this reason that the halachot pertaining to forbidden sexual relationships are not to be taught in groups consisting of three individuals (Mishna Chagiga 2:1).

 

There is something unique about Shir HaShirim, in contrast to other "restricted scripture" that necessitates its reading in public, and more specifically on Shabbat Chol HaMoed Pesach. According to the Zohar (Truma 143), the thematic content of Shir HaShirim illuminates a basic tenet of Judaism: the redemption of the Jewish people from Mitzrayim, as well as our trust in the ultimate redemption in the future. The Zohar is not just referring to a literal form of physical redemption from exile; it is an elaborate explanation of how we are to redeem ourselves from a spiritual abyss. A Jew takes the most base of all instincts, that of unbridled libido, and elevates it to kedusha in the service of the Divine. This can only be accomplished when reading beneath the surface. The challenge we have is how we will perceive Shir HaShirim: a book of Biblical love poetry or a work that surmises the closeness felt by Kneset Yisrael when in the presence of HaKadosh Baruch Hu. There is nothing out of the purview of Judaism. The halachot of intimacy are found in the same Shulchan Aruch as those pertaining to kashrut and shmirat Shabbat. In fact, one cannot become a complete servant of HaShem without using all of one's faculties in serving Him.

 

Yetziat Mitzrayim was not just about HaShem freeing a downtrodden nation from the shackles of slavery; most importantly it was about releasing a nation steeped in the immorality and depravity of Mitzrayim so that they could actualize their mission as those chosen to set the moral standard for humankind. "Avadim hayinu lePharoh beMitzrayim", "we were slaves to the Pharaoh in Mitzrayim" but no more. As servants of HaShem, we are bidden to subjugate our dark side to the will of HaShem (see Avot 2:4) and by doing so we elevate ourselves and our contacts to a higher spiritual and more meaningful existence.

 

In a similar vein, when one observes Shabbat in its proper spirit, he takes what can be an ordinary day and elevates it to kedusha, not only by refraining from melacha, but by taking delight in the material side of Shabbat. The choicest foods are reserved for Shabbat, the coveted afternoon nap is designated for the one day of the week that we should feel connected to HaShem. Yet, this relationship can be deepened through living in the material world HaShem created and to fuse it with the spiritual.

 

How appropriate it is to read Shir HaShirim written by the wisest of all men for the spiritually minded materially grounded individual. On this holiday in which we celebrate the beloved relationship of Kneset Yisrael and HaKadosh Baruch Hu, let us turn to Him as we recall the physical and spiritual redemption of the past while eagerly awaiting our own redemption in the future.

Lzeicher nishmas Yosef Chaim ben Michoel Dovid Halevi

 

The holiday of Pesach begins with the mitzva of the seder whose initial questions, recited by the youngest child, introduce an entire evening of response. Those four questions quickly become a highlight of the seder and the opening salvo in keeping the younger members of the household alert throughout the night's activity. The Abarbanel cleverly points out that there are, in fact, five questions, the first being, "Why is this night different from all other nights." However, in reality, he continues, all of the four are a variation of the first and there is but one question with four parts.

 

It is not unusual for Jews to do unusual things. Yet, we never stop to question in such a prescribed ritual manner, why we sit in a sukka, take the four species, sound a shofar, etc. The fier kashas - four questions, are predicated upon the fact that the seder is different. What makes this experience such an anomaly is the dual almost contradictory aspect of the mitzvot. We certainly understand that the Jewish calendar demands from us to commemorate the experiences of mourning and despair that are represented in the eating of the bread of affliction and the portion of bitter herbs. Likewise, we are well aware that there are holidays dedicated to the joyous expression of thanksgiving. Therefore, it is quite reasonable to be dipping our foods as the wealthy do or reclining in the manner of the free. "Why is this night different from all other nights", is the question that demands, why on the very same night are we experiencing the bitter and the sweet, the blessings and the hardships, together. It is the paradox of the seder that elicits this one forceful question.

 

Even as the night concludes, have we ever come around to really answering the child's question. While it is true that we describe the evening of exodus as a dual night of slavery and oppression as well as freedom and redemption, the underlying riddle remains. Why is it, that HaShem chooses to mix together the bitter and the sweet? Why are our lives not easier? If there is going to be a redemption, let it be a night of total celebration, not divided at "Chatzot" between the boundaries of suffering and rejoicing. Perhaps, we only get to the real answer on the seventh day of Pesach, where, in the Song of the Sea, the question again reappears.

 

Reading the Shirat HaYam is an interesting exercise in the non-sequitor. "Then Moshe and Bnei Yisrael sang this song." Why then? The song begins with a rather vivid description of the drowning of the Egyptians. "Horse and rider He drowned in the sea." Yet, Pharoah's army would not have ventured into those waters had the Holy One not parted the Yam Suf to make room for the Jewish People's escape. Why do we begin this song with the description of the drowning of the Egyptians only to go backwards to detail how HaKadosh Baruch Hu turned the raging sea into heaps of tamed water? Why weren't the Jews immediately responsive to the first part of the miracle, the actual splitting of the Sea and sing their song as they were marching through?

 

When Cecil B. Demills shot his epoch version of the Ten Commandments (well after it came out in book form) he had two gigantic conduits rush water towards each other from opposing sides of a large valley. He then showed that film backwards.

 

HaShem Yitbarach, however, relied on no gimmicks. The waters, rather than merely receding, piled up into enormous walls on both sides, providing a twelve lane highway for the Jewish People to walk through. Miraculously, those waters remained towering over the fleeing Nation. Can one imagine what it must have felt like to stand beneath a wall of water? Every ounce of their intuition and experience told Bnai Yisrael that the water above should be raining down destruction upon their very heads. For most, that journey must have felt awesome in thanksgiving to HaShem but also uncomfortable in the reality of their hard to accept situation. "Thank you G-d, for this enormous nes, miracle, but would it be possible to move it a couple of miles upstream?" It did not make sense that the exodus, so long awaited for, should be this frightening. It was not yet time for shira.

 

"And then Moshe and the Jewish People sang". It was only after they experienced the destruction of the pursuing Egyptian Army that it all the pieces fit together. "Then", it all made sense. The entire process had been part of the Al-Mighty's plan. We, who walked beneath the shadows of the towering waters could not comprehend the magnificent picture that emerged from this puzzle, until we got to the other side. Then, it made sense. Then, we sang.

 

On the seventh day of Pesach, after we have gone through the enormous task of preparing ourselves for the Yom Tov, after we have experienced the long Pesach night, we are ready to re-approach the underlying question of the four kashas. Why is it that we need to commemorate the suffering and the liberation together? Why does the cycle of life merge the bitter and the sweet? The answer from the sea washes up on the distant shores during today's kria. "On that day, HaShem will be One and His name will be One." When we observe the last piece of His puzzle come into place, then we will be able to realize that each and every part of our personal and national history forges into one complete picture, the Oneness of HaShem. Every pain and every cry, every song and every laugh, together compose the essential ingredients of our soul necessary for us to arrive at that other side.

 

For not to know the darkness of slavery is never to appreciate the light of freedom. Not to touch death is never to appreciate life. It is the journey that is important. Chazal describe that the walls of water, so frightening to so many, offered delicious fruits and foods for the picking. There are many people who avail themselves of the incredible blessings of growth and life, even in the midst of some difficult travels. There are others who will only comprehend the complete answer when they get to the other side. As I write this, I have just learned of the death of another one of our Camp Simcha children, a young boy from Richmond, Virginia. This is the fifth child that I have known, who passed away, in as many weeks. Yossi would have been Bar Mitzva next month. He was everything that one can ask for in a young, sweet ben Torah. His mother, maintained a web page (www.geocities.com/mugsisme/yossi.html) , that chronicled Yossi's struggle through his two bone marrow transplants and finally, his death. Yossi's life was so filled with the precious loving light of joy and so racked by burdensome disease and pain. But read the words of this incredible mother. Even now, as her son stands on the other side, her writing is filled with the love of HaShem and the appreciation to the Jewish communities, at home and at the transplant center who offered support. It is not that she loves her Yossi any less. It is that we, as a People, love our Creator with a love that is greater than all of all of the pains and trepidations that are part of the puzzle of this world. This is the love that we read about in the words of the Shir Hashirim. It is a love that assures us, that no matter how difficult the journey, we never travel alone. Each step, no matter how vast and painful is part of His plan. This is the Song of the Sea and the Song of Songs. It is the music that accompanies the historical march of the Jewish People. It is our shira, the triumphant liturgy of the end of Pesach that explains the unexplainable of its beginning.

 

Acharon Shel Pesach
22 Nissan 5766
April 20, 2006

7 Omer

Daf Yomi: Pesachim 93

By:     
Rabbi Abraham Isaac Kook, zt"l

translated by Rabbi Bezalel Naor

Parshat Shemini
24 Nissan 5766
April 22, 2006

9 Omer

Daf Yomi: Pesachim 95

Guest Rabbi:     
Rabbi Chaim Landau

Associate Member, Young Israel Council of Rabbis