The Love Affair Between God and Israel: Chanting the Song of Songs on Pesach

Rabbi Gary S. Creditor

April 12, 1998

When we say "Megillah" everybody automatically thinks "Purim"/"Esther". Yet there are five megillot in the Tanach, the first being Shir HaShirim, The Song of Songs. There are two traditions for its reading, either on the eighth day of Pesach, even with the recitation of Yizkor, or at the seder, as part of the Hagaddah. This second tradition has fallen mostly into disuse. In the Sephardic tradition it is read on the Friday nights between Pesach and Shavuot. Because its text is so explicit about physical beauty, if it wasn't in the Bible, I can imagine some conservative groups protesting its inclusion in public libraries. Not surprising since it is so different from every other book in the Tanach, the Rabbis also disputed its inclusion in the canon, the official Bible. Some books were excluded and were only maintained in the Apocrypha or Pseudophygrapha and others were lost altogether. Because Shir HaShirim is so graphic, its inclusion in the canon was problematic, to say the least. There is no information on when and who officially included it. The Talmudic discussion is really after the fact. Fortunately Shir HaShirim was preserved, because it is much more than just a collection of love poems between a shepherd and shepherdess, supposedly Solomon and a woman named Shulamit.

It is the love story between God and Israel.

As a love story, using the metaphors of a man and woman, it reflects the natural stresses and tensions that are part of real lives. There are highs and lows, joys and sadness, affirmation and questions. Yet for most of us, we transcend the pitfalls, weaknesses and mistakes which we make in our humanity, because there is an invisible chemistry that bonds two souls. We call this love. It perseveres. It endures. It is dynamic. It begins and ends each day. It is most evident in the night times of our lives. The Rabbis said: "the strongest of waters cannot quench love." With this paradigm, Shir HaShirim is the love song of God and Israel, and is the megillah of the five, which is read on Pesach. I reflect today on Shir HaShirim partly because it is so little known in our tradition and we should not lose it. But also because its message is so very important: Regardless of Israel's behavior in any given moment or by any individual Jew, God has pledged His love for us, collectively and individually. That love is as eternalas it is invisible. In part, Shir HaShirim is God's song of love for us.

Leaving the other megillot aside , why was Shir HaShirim associated with Pesach? The answer is that Pesach is more than an historical event of the past. It is a continuing cosmic event in Jewish History. While previously God reached out to individuals, Abraham's family, and did not overtly interfere in their lives, Pesach, Egypt was radically different. The Hagaddah forcefully focuses us on God's singular saving of our ancestors, even to the exclusion of Moses from the text. Egypt is the seminal event in our history. As Nisan is the first month of the Biblical calendar, and Pesach is the first holiday, this is the birthday/anniversary of our relationship with God. The Seder is the birthday party and anniversary celebration in one! This breaking of the barrier between heaven and earth to save us from Egyptian slavery was God's most special act of love for the people whom He chose to be His own. It was as if God said to the Israelites: "I love you." "I want to forge a special relationship with you. You and only you!" And each plague was another proof of His love. Everything in Judaism flows from Pesach. All of Torah proceeds from this one moment. I suppose that if God had wanted to, He had many alternative choices: Egyptians, Assyrians, Moabites and Philistines, to name but a few. Yet like the inexplicable chemistry of love that unites one man with one woman out of all the possible choices, God chose Israel. Referring to the human metaphor, Egypt was our engagement with God, Mt. Sinai was the chuppah, and the wilderness was the honeymoon.  

Perhaps you can think back to those special moments when you decided that that person was for you, and when you decided to get married. Ruby tells me it was when she sat in my class. I sensed it when I received her first letter. We decided to get married on the dock in Camp Ramah in the Berkshires. I suppose most of us remember those moments in our lives. And those moments are not just moments of the past. They are an ever-living present, as part of us, part of our souls, as real as any thing current. Events in our personal past define us as who we are and determine what we do. Like the tree, which is more than just its outer bark, but is defined by its innermost rings, our very character is a result of the innermost and earliest events in our lives. So, too, God and Israel. Israel met God through Abraham and his family. In the first covenant with Abraham, he and God decided "to go steady". It was in Egypt that they decided "to get married", and set the wedding date for seven weeks later - Shavuot. While we are unused and perhaps uncomfortable with such anthropomorphisms about God, we need to feel God accessible to us and make us accessible to Him. As much as God is transcendent, far away, creator of galaxies and universes, the religious soul, the searching soul, needs to feel Him immanent, present in our lives. Our personal actions, rituals and celebrations, more than just as commemorative acts of an ancient past, more than just symbolic actions, are living rituals of an active and actual relationship.  

Shir HaShirim was interpreted allegorically to say that the love of God for Israel and the love of Israel for God are alive, are present, are vital, and are actual.

When we read Torah, we are reading God's love letter to us.

When we read the words of the prophets, it is like a p.s. as the end of the letter.

Our prayers to God are our terms of endearment.

The lighting of candles is like the candles at the dinner of two lovers.

The winding of tefillin is like the wedding band.

The tzedakah pushke is like the giving of gifts.

Kissing the Torah as it passes is like giving a kiss to God.

And the sky, even its clouds and rain are is the table He sets before us.

Daily breath, a living neshamah, friends and family are His gifts to us.

Our shul and our homes are the eternal chuppah.

The mitzvot are like taking a stroll, walking hand in hand.

Shabbat and Yom Tov licht says "hello"; havdalah says "good-bye".

Judaism in all its components is the manifestation of our relationship with a living and loving God. Shir HaShirim, ostensibly a collection of ancient, explicit, love poetry was reconstituted and attached to Pesach so that we can feel God's love reaching out from that very first moment in Egypt to us on this very day. As real is the love of two lovers, is the love of God for Israel.

One last observation: not only is the authorship of Shir HaShirim unknown, so is the exact date of its composition. Scholars' best speculation is that it was written during the 400's BCE in the last of Israel. This in itself is remarkable and critical. The Jews who returned from the exile had only been able to build a little shteibele where once the great Temple stood. Most Jews remained in Babylonia and their future was in doubt. The question was:

Does God still love us?

Are the ancient marriage vows still in effect?

Does God want our love us?

Does God need us?

Do we need God?

The resounding answer of Shir HaShirim was "Yes! Yes! A thousand times Yes!" This question was to be asked once more. After the destruction of the Second Temple, these same questions were asked. Rabbi Akiva arose to declare: "For all the world is not worthy as the day on which the Song of Songs was given to Israel, for all the Writings are holy, but the Song of Songs is the Holy of Holies." Now we understand his answer.

Through our seders and our prayers, through the sunny skies and beautiful flowers, through the love of family, friends and community, through the words of Torah and doing of mitzvot, may we always feel God's nearness and inaudible but ever present "I love you." May we respond, "I love You too."

Amen.