Pesach – Shir Hashirim 2026: Love, Danger, and the Holy of Holies
by devadmin | April 7, 2026 2:50 pm
Raboyseyee and Ladies,
Love, Danger, and the Holy of Holies
Full Disclosure: This past Shabbis morning, with the heylige Ois mamish occupied by his grandchildren, he lost track of time and missed a class given by Rabbi Avi Miller, Associate Rabbi at Beth Sholom here in Lawrence, New York. The rabbi noticed my absence and later that morning -in shul- offered me a copy of his notes from the class. I read them and OMG! The bottom line: His notes inspired the Ois to dig even further into the topic he covered; here we go.
For some reason — and it is a reason that begs to be understood — our sages established that on the Shabbos of Chol Hamoed Pesach we read Shir HaShirim, AKA, The Song of Songs. Let’s get real: to the naked eye — if you chap, what is being read is not a simple sefer (book). It reads like a love poem. A very good one. A very real one. A sensuous and somewhat erotic poem. And not the kind you quote from at a vort or sheva brochis unless you are the Ois himself who has of course crossed many more lines.
If Shir HaShirim makes you uncomfortable — good. That means you’re reading it honestly. It is intimate, emotional, and at times uncomfortably vivid. It speaks of kisses, of longing, of physical beauty described piece by piece, of breasts and of nipples, of nights spent searching and yearning. And it is attributed to King Solomon, a man who — let’s say it carefully but honestly — knew relationships, knew attraction, and yes, knew women on a scale unmatched in Tanach. Just how many did he know? The actual number is provided and it’s staggering. Says the Novee (Melachim I: 11:3) very explicitly that Shlomo HaMelech had 700 wives and 300 concubines — and that very excess ultimately turned his heart. For better service, “take a number” would have been a good sign at the entrance to his boudoir. If anyone was qualified to write a convincing love poem, it was him.
Let’s be honest about something else. Were this sefer to be discovered today without a mesorah stamp – without the ArtScroll imprimatur or some other respectable hechsher, the Ois is fairly certain it would not be printed in a standard Tanach. It would be labeled ancient Near Eastern love poetry, perhaps studied in a university somewhere, but certainly not read publicly in shul. Some might even suggest it reads like soft porn whatever that is, ver veyst, and say it’s not so, but that’s just how it reads.
And zicher, in today’s climate, some would be asking serious questions about whether it belongs anywhere near קדושה, near other holy books. And yet, not only was it not banned — farkert! The opposite is true. Somehow this book was elevated. Said Rebbe Akiva that all writings are holy but that Shir Hashirim is the holiest of all!
“כל הכתובים קודש — ושיר השירים קודש קדשים.”
The same Tanach that calls Shir HaShirim קודש קדשים (mamish the holiest of all) is the one that tells you, without flinching, that Shlomo had 700 wives and 300 concubines — and that it did not end well. What?! Not barely acceptable. Not defensible. Not what our sages call בדיעבד (as a last resort, perhaps because he was the king), but it is the Holy of Holiest books? Which means that whatever discomfort you feel when reading, it is not a problem to be avoided; it is the very doorway to understanding it. Says the heylige Ois that for that reason alone, our sages were mamish brilliant. They did not censor the erotic words — they showed us where to point them. They leaned into the facts on the ground. The fact was that Shlomo wrote these lusty erotic words and it was the job of our Sages to do the cleanup and sanitizing. How? Not by changing them but by imagining the characters to be not a lovesick person yearning for various body parts of his beloved, but by suggesting firmly that the characters are the Yiddin and the RBSO. Freaking brilliant.
The examples of the lust are in the many dozens and let us just look at the opening words:
“ישקני מנשיקות פיהו”
The plain meaning is a lover asking for direct, intimate kisses — an expression of physical closeness and desire. Ober, Rashi, based on Shir HaShirim Rabbah (a medrish), explains that these “kisses” refer to the closeness of Matan Toirah, a direct encounter without intermediaries. One has to admit that at least on the surface, it sounds exactly like what it says.
And then there are the extended descriptions of the human form in later chapters — vivid, detailed, unmistakably physical. In each case, our sages reinterpret limb by limb as allegories for aspects of the nation, its בתי דינים, its leaders, its strengths. Interestingly, even as they interpret or reinterpret, they do not erase the moshol. The Song of Songs speaks in the language of physical attraction because that is the only language strong enough to carry what it wants to say. The bottom line: One has to admit that this move by our sages of the Gemora and medrish was mamish a case of kashering (making kosher) Shlomo’s words. So happens that Chazal were great at this endeavor.
Their redirection technique does lead us to this uncomfortable but necessary question: why wasn’t it banned? And the truth is, the question itself is not new. Chazal did in fact debate which seforim (holy books) were to be included in Tanach (Canon), and Shir HaShirim was part of that discussion. There was awareness — even sensitivity — to how it reads. And yet the conclusion was not hesitation but emphasis. For them, the existence of physical imagery and romantic language was not automatically a problem. Why not? Because Tanach itself already uses that kind of language elsewhere in the Novee. You can find examples over in Sefer Hoshea — marriage metaphor, in Sefer Yechezkel which has very vivid, even shocking imagery. There are many others such examples. So the question wasn’t “this sounds sensual – throw it out,” but what is this language doing here? They assumed depth, not surface. Chazal approached Tanach with a working assumption: If it’s part of mesorah (heritage), it has depth, even if it sounds physical. So instead of saying: This reads like a love poem, they asked “What is the nimshal behind this mashal? The real concern was misuse, not content. Chazal were concerned — just differently. They warned against treating Shir HaShirim like a regular song, singing it casually, and stripping it of its deeper meaning. The danger wasn’t that it exists. The danger was that people would read plainly without knowing that our Sages gave it real meaning. Rebbe Akiva did not merely permit it; he insisted on its supremacy. Which tells us that the very features that make the Song of Songs feel dangerous -reading the words about a lovesick individual about are the ones that make it essential.
Ober, all that said, how did the heylige Gemora deal with a similar situation? The heylige Gemora (Sanhedrin 75a) tells us the story of a man who laid eyes on a woman and became physically ill from desire for her. He was lovestruck and lovesick.
The suggestion in the Gemora is simple: he must have her or he will die. Let’s read this incredible shtikel innvaynig.
אמרו עליו על אדם אחד שנתן עיניו באשה אחת והעלה לבו טינא, ובאו ושאלו לרופאים ואמרו: אין לו תקנה עד שתבעל לו.
אמרו חכמים: ימות ואל תבעל לו.
תעמוד לפניו ערומה — ימות ואל תעמוד לפניו ערומה.
תספר עמו מאחורי הגדר — ימות ואל תספר עמו מאחורי הגדר.
English Translation: They said about a certain man that he set his eyes on a particular woman and became consumed with desire, and they came and consulted doctors. The doctors said: he has no cure unless she has relations with him.
The Sages said: let him die rather than she have relations with him.
[They suggested:] let her stand naked before him —
The Sages said: let him die rather than she stand naked before him.
[They suggested:] let her speak with him from behind a fence — The Sages said: let him die rather than she speak with him from behind a fence.
Before we go veyter, the phrase: “העלה לבו טינא”
literally means: his heart filled with a kind of feverish craving / sickness. It’s not presented as romantic love — it’s presented as something that has overtaken him.
Shoin, I’m sure many of you -especially those who didn’t learn much Gemora- are scratching your collective heads and thinking two things: 1- does the Gemora really quote this story? And 2- where can I sign up to Daf Yomi (learning a folio each day)? Is this mamish a quote from the Gemora? It is! And shoin, no wonder the rebbe always taught that everything we can imagine is discussed in the heylige Gemora; the rebbe was correct! Let us reread the entire Gemora in English:
They told of a man who set his eyes on a certain woman — and his heart became sick with desire. They went to the doctors, who said: “There is no cure unless she is with him.” The Sages said: Let him die — but she may not be with him. They said: “Let her at least stand before him unclothed.” The Sages said: Let him die — but she may not stand before him unclothed. They said: “Let her at least speak with him from behind a fence.” The Sages said: Let him die — but she may not speak with him from behind a fence.
Not only can he not have her — he cannot even speak to her. Not even through a fence. Not even to save his life. But, did anyone come along and suggest that his desires really meant that he had such love for the RBSO? That he was speaking in metaphors or that his desires were all holy? That it was not a woman he was lovesick for, but a closer relationship with the RBSO? Not!
Farkert: The Ramban and other Rishonim tell us that – This is not “love.” The phrase: “העלה לבו טינא” is understood as: a kind of obsessive, unhealthy fixation. Not: אהבה – not noble romance, but something that has taken over his thinking. Chazal are telling us this: Don’t confuse obsession with love. The Ritva tells us that boundaries are absolute. Even if: he will die, even if the situation is extreme. Still, we do not bend the system for desire. Because the moment you say: “This case is different” you’ve lost the boundary entirely.
All that said, still, some (Rishonim) were bothered by this story and why the Gemora was adamant that the person should die instead of having his life saved by the woman of his desires. Why taka wouldn’t they allow the encounter? Some suggest that the firmness -if you chap – of the Gamora’s position was due to the fact that the woman of his desires may have been an אשת איש- (she was a married woman). And if that were the case, the severity of the Gomora’s position was because as a married woman, such an encounter with the person -no matter how lovesick and how dangerous to his own life, had it taken place- would have made this a case of יהרג ואל יעבור -mamish a case of arayis (not the ones we eat all year and even on Pesach wrapped up in matzo) but a real case where it was going be his life or hers. Maybe both! Our sages were not denying the feeling, the intensity, the suffering; they were saying this: Even the strongest human desire does not become legitimate just because it feels overwhelming. Let him die. Not only can he not be with her — he cannot even see her, not even speak to her, not even from behind a fence. Not even to save his life.
But what if the woman was not married? Why not let her save the man’s life? Nu, you’re all wisenheimers thinking that the Gemora missed this scenario; you’re all wrong. Let’s read veyter first in Gemora parlance and then in English.
The heylige Gemora itself asks the obvious question: “ואי דפנויה — אמאי?” If she is unmarried, why not allow it? After all, this is not one of the three עבירות for which we say יהרג ואל יעבור. And the answer is even more startling.
Rav Pappa says: משום פגם משפחה — it damages the very fabric of family life. And Rav Acha goes further: כדי שלא יהו בנות ישראל פרוצות בעריות — so that the daughters of Israel should not become promiscuous. In other words, even when nothing technical is violated, Chazal refuse to legitimize a desire that overrides boundaries. Because the moment you permit it once, you have already changed the system.
The bottom line: in the case of the single girl or woman who has an opportunity to save a lovesick individual’s life, the heylige Gemora does not say it’s technically mutar (permitted), but not ideal. It says even here — ימות ואל…Meaning azoy: Even when it is not one of the big three עבירות (cardinal sins), our sages still refused because of the broader implications. The Gemora’s answer is not about the act — it’s about the precedent.
The final bottom lines: What sounded so poetic in Shir HaShirim is revealed, in real life -in the heylige Gemora’s case- to be something dangerous, something that must be contained, and something that cannot be allowed to cross a line. The same sentence, “I can’t live without her” is holy in Shir HaShirim but in the heylige Gemora (Sanhedrin), lethal. Very similar emotional language — I cannot live without you, I search for you at night, I am consumed by longing is rejected in the heylige Gemora outright, and is canonized as the holiest expression in Tanach. What’s pshat? Pshat may be that not every powerful feeling is holy.
Chag Sameach!
The Heylige Oisvorfer Ruv
Yitz Grossman
Source URL: https://oisvorfer.com/pesach-shir-hashirim-2026-love-danger-and-the-holy-of-holies/