The Love of Song of Songs

Blurring the Boundaries between Divine and Human Love:

The Sanctification of the Song of Songs[1]

Hayyim Angel

Rabbi Akiva said, “…No one in Israel ever disputed that the Song of Songs renders the hands impure, since nothing in the entire world is worthy but for that day on which the Song of Songs was given to Israel. For all the Scriptures are holy, but the Song of Songs is the Holy of Holies! (Mishnah Yadayim 3:5)

Introduction

One of the ways we seek holiness is through communion with God through the study of Holy Writ, but that that idea is easier to toss around glibly than actually to define. The Song of Songs is the context in which our greatest commentators and thinkers expressed themselves the most directly in that regard. The question at the heart of our discussion is: Can a biblical text be physical and spiritual, openly erotic and about the love of God, all at the same time? In this essay, we explore the wide range of opinions found in classical rabbinic commentary, modern Jewish Thought, and contemporary academic scholarship. These scholars provide critical means of building bridges between the realms of the loving relationships between God and humankind, and the loving relationships between people.

The Song of Songs contains some of the most tender expressions of love and intimacy in the Bible. On its literal level, the Song expresses the mutual love of a man and a woman. From ancient times, traditional interpreters have almost universally agreed that there is an allegorical or symbolic layer of meaning as well. In both traditional rabbinic circles and contemporary academic circles, some scholars attempt to deny one level of meaning or the other by insisting that the author cannot possibly have meant both. However, others allow for the possibility of attributing both layers of meaning to the author. In this essay, we argue that the dismissal of either layer of meaning does a disservice to the Song and its interpretation. The blurring in interpretation unlocks the full sacred potential of the Song, which bridges the love of people and the love of God into its exalted poetry.

From Literal to Allegorical

The allegorical mode of interpretation can be traced as least as far back as the second and third centuries C.E., and possibly even to the first century C.E.[2] It also is plausible that the written evidence is long preceded by an oral tradition, possibly going back all the way to the original composition of the Song. The most prevalent allegorical interpretation in Jewish tradition (as exemplified by the Targum, and the commentaries by Rabbi Saadiah Gaon [882-942], Rashi [1040-1105], Rashbam [Rabbi Samuel ben Meir, 1080-1160], and Rabbi Abraham Ibn Ezra [1089-1164]) understands the Song as symbolizing the historical relationship between God and Israel.[3] The ancient Aramaic translation called the Targum was the first to present a coherent historical narrative based on earlier midrashim.[4] Following Rabbeinu Baḥya Ibn Pakuda (first half eleventh century), Maimonides (1138-1204) maintained that the Song is an allegory representing the love between God and the righteous individual.[5] Many allegorical, poetic, philosophical, mystical, and other interpretations of the Song also have been part of the Jewish landscape over the past two millennia.[6]

How did this allegorical interpretation come to be? Many contemporary scholars maintain that it is superimposed onto what was originally a secular love poem. Representing this widespread position, James Kugel imagines that the first generation of allegorical interpreters knew full well that the Song is nothing more than a secular love poem between a man and a woman. These original Sages fancifully interpreted the Song to reflect the love between God and Israel, all the time winking at one another. Subsequent generations lost those winks in translation, and erroneously concluded that this interpretation reflected the true meaning of the Song. In Kugel’s view, Sages such as Rabbi Akiva simply were “misled” by the allegorical interpretation. However, contemporary scholars “know” that the Song is part of a “great ancient Near Eastern tradition of love poetry, with its conventional descriptions of the lovers’ physical beauty and its frank exaltation of eroticism.”[7] The religious allegorical interpretation made the book Bible-worthy. However, the original meaning of the Song is indeed irrelevant for inclusion in the Bible.[8]

Gabriel Cohn flatly rejects this explanation: Why would the Sages take a secular love poem and completely reinterpret it to refer to the love between God and Israel? They did not need to include the Song in the Bible at all! Evidently, they believed the Song was sacred from its inception.[9] Gerson Cohen expresses the matter more bluntly:

The rabbis of the first and second century, like the intelligent ancients generally, were as sensitive to words and the meaning of poetry as we are. How, then, could they have been duped—or better yet, have deluded themselves and others—into regarding a piece of erotica as genuine religious literature, as the holy of holies! Should not the requirements of elementary common sense give us reason for pause and doubt?[10]

The assumption that the Song was a secular love poem that early Sages reworked into a religious allegory to make it Bible-worthy does a disservice both to the Song and to the Sages. Once we can accept that the Sages always understood the Song as sacred, we can find layers of sanctification of divine and human love within the Song.

The Allegorical Meaning Inheres in the Text

            Some scholars maintain that an allegorical meaning of divine love can be demonstrated from a careful text analysis. In his introduction to the Song, Ibn Ezra observes that the prophets frequently apply the metaphor of a marriage to the relationship between God and Israel. Therefore, the allegorical interpretation of the Song as a metaphor of the love between God and Israel is reasonable within its biblical setting.[11]

Gabriel Cohn adds that the emphasis on the Land of Israel seems to have greater meaning than simply the natural setting of the relationship. Israel seems to be a vehicle for promoting the relationship. The Song mentions several cities in Israel (1:14; 2:1; 4:1; 6:4; 7:5-6). The lovers also liken one another to places in Israel (4:1 [6:4]; 4:4; 7:6. 4:11). In 5:1, milk and honey appear together. Cohn lists additional features of the Song that also have no parallels in other Near Eastern love poetry.[12]

Of course, these points hardly create a compelling case for an intended allegorical reading. After all, the book never reveals an allegorical meaning. This is unlike the prophetic metaphors of a God-Israel marriage, where the meaning always is made explicit. However, the above evidence makes allegory a comfortable possibility as part of the author’s original intent.

The Literal Meaning Is the Intended Meaning and Is Sacred, and the Allegorical Meaning Is Ascribed to it by Tradition

            Another approach is to understand the literal reading of human love as the primary intent of the book. The symbolic interpretive approach that takes the Song as being about God and Israel or about God and the religious individual would then belong to the category of “tradition,” or “midrash” rather than the p’shat.

Alon Goshen-Gottstein summarizes the view of those contemporary scholars who accept the literal reading as the primary intent of the Song. In their reading, the Song speaks of the sanctity of human love:

The Song celebrates human love for what it is. Scripture would be incomplete if it did not have in it an expression of an aspect of life so germane to humanity, its pursuits and its happiness. What could be more natural, beautiful, and even spiritual, than the inclusion of human conjugal love as a value to be admired, praised and celebrated?[13]

Within this reading, the inclusion of this remarkable book into the Bible is the strongest vote for the supreme religious value of interpersonal love in Jewish tradition. Scholars who would distinguish between a “secular” human love interpretation and a “religious” God-Israel interpretation fail to recognize that love and human relationships themselves are essential aspects of biblical religion. Precisely because both are sacred, tradition could express itself regarding the nature of the relationship between God and Israel, or between God and the religious individual, within the descriptions of human love and intimacy.

From this vantage point, the rabbinic concern with the literal reading of the Song does not stem primarily from its biblically unparalled expressions of physical human love and sexuality, but rather from the potential to treat those physical expressions as secular or vulgar:

Our Rabbis taught: He who recites a verse of the Song of Songs and treats it as a mere ditty and one who recites a verse at the banqueting table unseasonably [that is, in an inappropriate or secular manner, HA], brings evil upon the world. Because the Torah girds itself in sackcloth, and stands before the blessed Holy One and laments in God’s presence, “Sovereign of the Universe! Your children have made me as a harp upon which they frivolously play.” (Sanhedrin 101a)

Rabbi Akiva says: One who sings the Song of Songs with a tremulous voice at banquets and treats it as a mere song has no share in the World to Come. (Tosefta Sanhedrin 12:10)

Of course, there is no way to disprove that there also is an allegorical dimension intended by the author of the Song.

Human Love is a Symbol of the Love between God and Israel

            A middle approach based on the above evidence is to view the literal element of human love as essential to the author’s intent, and that the author also intended that human love serve as a symbol of divine love. Gabriel Cohn maintains that for an allegory, an interpreter must set each detail into a larger allegorical framework. In contrast, if the Song is a symbol, then one must interpret every detail of the literal love poem, and then more generally understand this human love as a symbol of divine love.[14] In this approach, the literal human love is part of the original intent of the Song, as is the symbolic meaning of the God-Israel relationship.

To summarize: Either the Song is sacred because it was always intended as an allegory describing divine love; or it is sacred because it celebrates the sanctity of human love and tradition sees in that human love a symbol of the love of the divine. Or perhaps it is a human love poem with built-in symbolism intended by the author to point to the mutual love between God and Israel or between God and the religious individual.

The Literal Reading as an Essential Aspect of Tradition

            Rabbi Joseph Soloveitchik asserts that unlike the case with respect to any other biblical book, the midrashic-allegorical reading has come totally to supplant the literal meaning of the Song. Not only does the Song contain a layer of divine love, but it is exclusively about divine love. He maintains that one who adopts the literal reading of the Song denies the sanctity of the Oral Law, since there is rabbinic consensus that the symbolic meaning is the sole acceptable one. To bolster his point, he notes that the halakhah codifies that the name Shelomo (the Hebrew version of Solomon) that appears seven times in the Song is mostly to be taken as a sacred name of God, reading Shelomo to mean, “The Song to Him whose is the peace (le-Mi sheha-Shalom shelo).” That word must not be erased in the Song, since it does not refer to the earthly King Solomon, but rather to God. Thus, halakhah itself shows that the literal meaning (King Solomon) is supplanted by the symbolic meaning (God):[15]

Every “Solomon” mentioned in the Song of Songs is sacred… except for this one verse: My vineyard, which is mine, is before me; you, O Solomon, shalt have the thousand (Song 8:12)—Solomon for himself [shall have a thousand]…And there are some who say this also is secular: Behold it is the bed of Solomon (Song 3:7). (B. Shevuot 35b)

Although Rabbi Soloveitchik is correct that there is near-universal acceptance of an allegorical meaning within tradition, there is a range of opinion pertaining to the value of the literal reading of human love. In the introduction to his commentary, Malbim (Meir Leibush ben Yehiel Michel, 1809-1879) criticizes rabbinic commentaries on the Song who altogether ignore its literal meaning. While he maintains that there is a symbolic meaning as well, one first must understand the literal meaning to attain other layers of meaning:

Most interpretations [of Song of Songs]… are in the realm of allusion and homiletical interpretation distant from the establishment of the p’shat.… Of course we affirm that divine words have seventy facets and one thousand dimensions. Nonetheless, the p’shat interpretation is the beginning of knowledge; it is the key to open the gates, before we can enter the sacred inner chambers of the King.

Most earlier rabbinic commentators find value in the literal reading, while they simultaneously insist that the Song contains an allegorical level of meaning as well. Elie Assis surveys classical commentators and determines that their opinions fall into several larger categories.

1. The Song was initially composed as a human love poem and it was elevated to the sacred when being edited into a biblical book (Rabbi Joseph Kara [1050-1125], Rabbi Isaac Arama [1420-1494]).
2. The Song is an allegory in a general sense, but the interpreter must focus on the details of the human love song (Rashbam, Rabbi Joseph Kara, Rabbi Isaiah of Trani [c. 1180-c. 1250).
3. The literal reading is necessary to understand the allegory, and the allegory is primary (Rashi, Ibn Ezra).
4. Despite what we suppose the simple meaning to be, we must interpret only the allegory (Rabbi Obadiah Sforno [1470-1550]).[16]

Tzvi Yehudah further observes that only in the nineteenth century do we begin to find rabbis who deny the value of the literal reading of the Song. Prior to that, the Sages and commentators generally embraced the literal and symbolic meanings of the Song.[17]

It should be noted further that although the halakhah rules that most references to the name Shelomo in the Song are sacred because they refer to God, the classical sages and the later commentators never allowed that ruling to supplant the literal meaning in their minds. Shelomo also could refer to King Solomon. They still maintained, for example, that when the opening verse states, “The Song of Songs of Solomon,” this means that King Solomon authored or played a significant role in the composition of the book. Despite the halakhic ruling of the Talmud that this reference to “Shelomo” is a sacred name of God, the word continues to refer to the human king as well. It is difficult to conclude that the halakhic-symbolic-allegorical meanings of the Song altogether supplant the literal meaning within tradition.

In the final analysis, it is impossible to ascertain where original authorial intent ends and where added meaning begins. As Rabbi Saadiah Gaon says in the introduction to his commentary, “Know, my brother, that you will find great differences in interpretation of the Song of Songs. The Song of Songs is likened to locks whose keys have been lost.” However, it is precisely this uncertainty that unlocks the potential of connecting human love and divine love.

Building Bridges

            The blurring of the boundaries in the layers of interpretation of the Song is singularly valuable. Without knowing the precise primary intent of the author of the Song, several contemporary religious thinkers exploit the potential literal and allegorical layers of interpretation to speak about the Song’s contribution to religious experience. Rabbi Joseph Soloveitchik and his student Rabbi Shalom Carmy bridge the two allegorical readings of God-Israel and God-religious individual. Rabbi Yuval Cherlow bridges the literal and allegorical readings.

Rabbi Joseph Soloveitchik

As discussed above, Rashi champions the position that the Song should be read allegorically as a continuous narrative of the historical relationship between God and Israel. Maimonides espouses a different reading, that the Song should be read allegorically as reflecting the intimate relationship between God and the religious individual. Rashi’s reading pertains to the collective, particularistic relationship between God and Israel. Maimonides’  reading, in contrast, pertains to every religious individual, a universalistic perspective.

Despite these significant differences, Rabbi Soloveitchik considers the approaches of Rashi and Maimonides to be compatible. The lovers’ quest for one another in the Song symbolizes the human quest for God and for God’s revelation to humans. All people long to transcend their natural state and find God and meaning. Additionally, Israel uniquely receives divine revelation through the Torah. God longs for a relationship with each individual, and also for a relationship with a unique nation. At the same time, the lovers in the Song constantly pursue and long for one another, but never consummate the sexual relationship in the Song itself. Similarly, God never is revealed fully to people, and people retreat from God at the moment of a potential encounter. The two readings of Rashi and Maimonides thus are two aspects of this relationship. The Song speaks to the entire world, and simultaneously in a unique manner also to Israel.[18]

Rabbi Shalom Carmy[19]

            Many Jews customarily recite the Song on Friday night prior to the evening prayers. The ordinary Jew’s reading of the Song has little to do with the elitist reading of Rashi. Most people reciting the Song are not likely to attempt a systematic allegorical reading of the historical relationship between God and Israel.

Rabbi Carmy notes that an adequate reading of the Song cannot ignore ordinary readers even as it also addresses erudite theologians. The ordinary worshipper can relate more to Maimonides’ concept of the man in the Song as God, and the woman as the religious individual who senses God’s closeness. The Song gives far more expression to the woman than to the man, so that one can find therein one’s religious voice seeking God.[20]

Rabbi Carmy explains that people never can fully connect to God, just as the desired rendezvous of the lovers in the Song never explicitly occurs. The God we seek is the God who corresponds to our needs and desires, our loves and our fears. Yet God also is wholly other, expressed most poignantly through revelation to humanity, and makes demands that do not correspond to our perceived needs. In the context of revelation, people must obey; but obedience necessarily leads to estrangement, since it is not a freedom-seeking person’s natural way. God therefore is both approachable and completely apart. Rabbi Soloveitchik’s reading that combines the approaches of Rashi and Maimonides thereby bridges the gap between the ordinary Friday evening worshipper, engaged in an intimate personal spiritual encounter with God, and the elite theologian and philosopher, who encounters God through revelation.

      Rabbi Yuval Cherlow[21]

            Rabbi Yuval Cherlow builds important bridges between the literal and allegorical layers of meaning in the Song. In Rabbi Cherlow’s interpretation of the Song’s literal layer, the man—whom he identifies as a king—and the woman—whom who he identifies as a peasant who tends vineyards—must learn each other’s language and overcome the staggering gulf between them. Similarly, there is an infinite gulf between God and people, leading to inherent religious challenges.

Over the course of the Song, the woman must learn the world of the king and its language rather than attempting to impose her world onto her lover. So too Israel must learn God’s language in the Torah to develop a proper religious relationship with God. The king also must learn the language and concerns of his beloved, and by addressing them he gives her the opportunity to develop the relationship further.