We continue with the twelfth essay of the Zera Shimshon on Shir HaShirim, centered on the verse "Who is this that looks forth like the dawn." The Midrash expounds the devotion between Knesset Yisrael and the Holy One, blessed be He, through three expressions - cleaving (deveikah), longing (chashikah), and delighting (chafitzah) - and derives this from the episode of that wicked man, Shechem the son of Chamor. This raised the major question: What do we have to learn from Shechem the son of Chamor? The concept itself we can understand on our own, so why learn it specifically from a place of impurity? One answer was already offered, yet it was said of it that "this does not bring healing to the difficulty" - it does not fully resolve the problem, and therefore the Zera Shimshon comes to explain it in a different way.
And here the author opens and says: "And to us it seems that what he found is a short, straightforward, and correct answer." That is to say, even if they said of it that it does not resolve the difficulty, in his view it is a good, simple, and true answer. And it must be clarified: the word "peshatit" (straightforward or simple) here is not a flaw, but a virtue. Today, if a person does not say something intricate and sharp, with a twist of the thumb and clever witticisms, he has not captivated his listeners. But among the Rishonim, the approach was precisely the opposite: on the contrary, the simple answers are usually the true answers.
The Chasam Sofer once raised a severe difficulty in the beit midrash and offered two answers: one was deeply intricate, and the other was very simple, removing the question immediately - a smooth resolution showing that from the outset there was no question at all. He asked the students: Which answer do you prefer? They told him: The first one. He said to them: It is true that the first is beautiful, but the second is true. And there is a world of difference between them: "beautiful" is flash, it is external, it is sharp and delightful - but truth is the peshat, the straightforward reality.
And this was always the way of the gedolim of Israel, not only the Chasam Sofer. They did not hold of pilpulim whose sole purpose was rhetorical embellishment, and saw no value in them. This was true of the Chazon Ish, and of the Rav of Brisk. Once a man came to the Brisker Rav and suggested an interpretation of what we say in the piyut "Ezkera Elokim Ve'ehemayah": "When I see every city built upon its mound, while the city of God is degraded to the lowest depths." The man explained to him that "ir" (city) is related to "hitorerut" (awakening): every awakening toward lust and physical desire stands upon its mound, alive, active, and breathing properly, whereas the "city of God," the awakening to the service of Hashem, is degraded to the lowest depths. The Brisker Rav heard this and asked him: Have you ever been to Paris, or Rome, or the great cities of the world? The man replied: Yes. He asked: And how are they? He said: Very beautiful, absolute marvels. The Rav said to him: If so, why can we not explain it simply - "When I see every city built upon its mound, while the city of God is degraded to the lowest depths"? Why did you go searching for pilpulim? That is the peshat. Indeed, if people were to ask us what is nicer, we might say his interpretation is nicer, because it has sharpness and a clever twist of meaning - but the truth is the peshat.
And so the Zera Shimshon explains: We find that the verse states, "You shall fear the Lord your God, and Him shall you serve, and to Him shall you cleave," and these three matters correspond precisely to the three expressions in the Midrash. Initially, a person fears the Holy One, blessed be He, like a lover who feels a preliminary desire for his beloved. Fear of Hashem is the beginning of drawing close to Him, may He be blessed - you already have a connection with Him; you stand in awe of Him.
Afterwards comes "and Him shall you serve" - Him specifically, and not the evil inclination, nor physical pleasure; rather, all your actions must be for the sake of Heaven. This is what the author of Chovot HaLevavot writes in the Gate of Dedication of Action (Shaar Yichud HaMa'aseh), to dedicate all actions exclusively to the Creator. It is like a lover who desires her and no one else: any beloved woman who discovers that her lover desires someone other than her will lose her affection for him. "What, am I an option? Do you have another?" - she would never agree to that. Thus, complete service is like a lover who thinks of no one other than his beloved. What does "Him" come to exclude? Not for any other purpose: not for honor, not for impression, and not for any other motive.
And afterwards comes "and to Him shall you cleave" - like a lover who cleaves to her, and she is his life. This is already absolute clinging, "and he shall cleave unto his wife, and they shall become one flesh." Cleaving to Hashem is a higher level than merely longing for Him and no other: it is truly cleaving.
And these correspond precisely to what the Midrash says: through cleaving, longing, and delighting. Seemingly, it should have stated them in the order of their progression - delighting, longing, and cleaving - since according to what has been explained, cleaving is the final stage: first delight, then longing, and finally cleaving. The author answers that it formulated them this way intentionally, to inform us that one cannot arrive at enduring deveikah until longing and delight have preceded it, as will be in the future to come, of which it is said, "who looks forth like the dawn." This stands in contrast to when they left Egypt, where deveikah came before longing and delight.
In simple terms: things come gradually. We are an instant generation; we want everything now, right here, in hand and immediately. One of the Gedolim once noted that a person would love to go to sleep at night, have Otzar HaChochmah plugged directly into his head, and wake up in the morning knowing the entire Torah - without exerting himself and without toiling, having it all downloaded into his brain through a cable. And he added: but beyond that, he also wants to get a good night's sleep - so that he does not even have to stay up all night. In other words, a person is unwilling to invest even the slightest effort. He wants everything handed to him on a silver platter, without toil. Like the man who went to a job interview and asked what the salary structure was. They told him: in the first month, 5,000 shekels; in the second month, 6,000; after six months, 7,000; and after a year, 8,000. He said to them: "Fine, I will come back in a year." People want to start straight at the top.
The Malbim explains: something that endures is something that comes gradually. Whatever comes in a single instant, without gradual progression, does not endure. Therefore, for an enduring bond (deveikut) to take hold, it must be preceded by intense yearning (cheshek) and initial desire (chafetz). This is also the case with the order of focus in prayer: one directs his mind toward the Land of Israel, then toward Jerusalem, then toward the Beis HaMikdash, then toward the Holy of Holies, and finally toward the space between the two Keruvim, where the Gate of Heaven and the Shechinah reside. And why not declare from the outset that one is praying directly toward the space between the two Keruvim? Because things come gradually, and step by step, a person builds in his thoughts an approach toward Hashem, blessed is He. And so it is in every single matter.
This is the meaning of "looking forth like the dawn" - gradually, for the dawn does not break all at once. This stands in contrast to the Exodus from Egypt, where "the night shines like the day"; in an instant the day grew bright, and the bond (deveikut) arrived before the yearning (cheshek) and initial desire (chafetz). The attachment was immediate; the Holy One, blessed is He, bypassed all the stages and bound us to Him all at once. And what came of that? We subsequently had to return to the starting point and work for fifty days to attain that connection through a gradual process. As Rav Dessler notes regarding the statement, "A maidservant saw at the sea what Yechezkel ben Buzi did not see" - yet she remained a maidservant. This is what happens when one reaches deveikut without preparatory work. Yechezkel was greater than she, because with him it came gradually and through intense toil, whereas for her it was bestowed as a momentary gift, and just as it came, so it departed.
Through this approach, we can clearly understand what is taught in the second chapter of Niddah: such is the craft of the Yetzer Hara - today he tells him, "Do this," tomorrow he tells him, "Do that," and the next day he tells him, "Go worship idols," and he goes and worships them. If even the casual conversation of a Torah scholar requires study, how much more so this teaching of Chazal. Why, then, did they divide this specifically into three stages? Why not simply say that the way of the Yetzer Hara is to tell a person, "Come, worship idols"?
Rather, it teaches us that "God has made one opposite the other" as well: a person who sins initially has a slight desire for the pleasure of the transgression; next, he desires specifically the forbidden rather than the permitted - leaving the permitted and consuming the forbidden; and ultimately, he becomes completely attached to the realm of impurity, Heaven forbid. The descent into evil also does not happen in an instant. The Yetzer Hara knows that if he were to suggest idol worship immediately, we would refuse; therefore, he uses a salami tactic, slice by slice.
At first, he tells a person: you need an advanced device just to stay informed, just for the news, and of course with all possible filters, Heaven forbid anything more. In the next stage: look, these filters are getting in the way, I need access to a few websites for work, so let us just open it a little bit. And by the third stage, the smartphone is no longer in his hands - he is in the hands of the smartphone. He is no longer in control, he is controlled; he has lost control completely. Yet, if someone had offered that very same person an unfiltered device at the beginning of the road, when he was carrying a kosher phone, he would have reacted with shock: "What, do you think I am a gentile? All the Gedolei Yisrael forbade this!" How, then, did he end up there in the end? Little by little: this is essential, this is a must, you cannot manage without that.
Someone once boasted: "Look, by the time you walk to the bank and make a transaction, I can log into the bank in a minute through my device, deposit a check in a minute, and never need to go there at all." He was answered: "True, my friend, you entered the bank in a minute - but tell me, how long does it take you to leave? Just now a message arrived, now someone wrote something, now someone sent a video, now he replied to the video." In short, a person reaches the absolute worst things from something the Yetzer Hara introduced on a "small scale," arguing: what could possibly be the problem, what prohibition is there here, what harm could this do?
And this is what the Midrash alludes to when it states that we learn this from the episode of that wicked one. Seemingly, it should have said "from the episode of Shechem" - why did it say "that wicked one"? Because this is the way of the wicked one, namely the Yetzer Hara, who is called "wicked": today this, tomorrow that, until he tells him, "Go worship idols," and everything unfolds gradually. And "God has made one opposite the other" - divine attainments are likewise achieved gradually: initial desire (chafetz), intense yearning (cheshek), and ultimate cleaving (deveikut). This is what we learn from Shechem ben Chamor: gradual progression. Just as the Yetzer Hara can gradually bring a person to the worst depths, so too the good path must be gradual - a little more, another moment of overcoming, another effort, and then you will arrive. Therefore the Midrash phrased it as "the episode of that wicked one," to teach you: know that such is the craft and strategy of the Yetzer Hara, and whoever follows this path is called wicked.
מִי־זֹאת הַנִּשְׁקָפָה כְּמוֹ־שָׁחַר יָפָה כַלְּבָנָה בָּרָה כַּחַמָּה אֲיֻמָּה כַּנִּדְגָּלוֹת׃ (ו, י) - "Who is this that looks forth like the dawn, fair as the moon, pure as the sun, awesome as bannered hosts?" (6:10)
And now, this is precisely what the verse says: "Fair as the moon, clear as the sun, awesome as an army with banners" - the three levels in their exact order. "Fair as the moon" corresponds to the first stage, for the moonlight is beautiful and a person desires it somewhat, in the manner of longing. The light of the moon is modest, and therefore one is able to look at it, unlike the sun, which we cannot gaze upon because of the sheer intensity of its light.
It is worth noting that according to Halachah, one should not gaze at the moon. The Mishnah Berurah rules accordingly that one who gazes at the moon shows a lack of honor toward his Creator, because the moon symbolizes the holy Shechinah. Rather, one should look at it briefly before Birkas HaLevanah, or when waiting to check if the moon is visible - but after that, one must not continue staring at it. People often enjoy gazing at the moon, especially on the fifteenth of the month when it is full, large, and close, and the sight is very beautiful, but halachically one does not gaze at the moon.
Furthermore, moonlight protects a person from harmful spiritual forces (mazikin). One who walks on a moonlit night is saved first of all from pits and obstacles, and also from harmful forces, since mazikin rarely travel in illuminated areas. The Gemara states that one who walks alone at night is in danger of being harmed by them: to an individual, a damaging spirit appears and causes harm; to two people, it appears but does not harm; and to three people, it does not appear at all. Concerning this, the Sages said: a torch is equivalent to two - one walking with a torch in hand is like two walking together, so the spirit might appear to him but cannot harm him. And the moon is equivalent to three - one walking by moonlight is considered like three, and the spirit does not even appear. This is the first, initial stage: "fair as the moon."
Above this is "clear as the sun." A person desires the sun far more than the moon, for by the light of the moon one cannot accomplish what can be done by sunlight. Sunlight is vastly stronger and well suited for all daily activities. This corresponds to the lover who yearns for his beloved to the exclusion of all others - the sun is thoroughly preferred over the moon. Furthermore, regarding sunlight it is written, "When the sun rises, they gather" (Tehillim 104:22) - when the sun shines, harmful forces withdraw and vanish from the world entirely, completely nullified. This is the second, higher stage.
And after that comes "awesome as an army with banners." That is, when one cleaves completely to the Holy One, Blessed is He, it is not merely that harmful forces fear and flee from him, but that he actively destroys them. This was the status of the Jewish people in the wilderness, amidst fiery serpents and scorpions, where they trod upon them and nullified them, for their banners mirrored the heavenly ministering angels. The secret of the banners is profound and immense, as described in the Midrashim (Bamidbar Rabbah 2, Yalkut Shimoni 684) and the commentators, as is known to the discerning.
We find a similar account in the first chapter of Kiddushin (29b), where with every bow that Rav Acha bar Yaakov bowed in prayer, one head fell off a seven-headed serpent-demon. The Gemara recounts that Rav Acha bar Yaakov sent his son, Rav Yaakov, to study under Abaye. When the son returned, the father saw that his learning was not sharp - he had studied there for some time but had not grasped the material thoroughly. The father said: "I am more suited than you; remain here and I will go." Abaye heard that Rav Acha bar Yaakov was coming. Now, there was a dangerous mazik in Abaye's study hall, so perilous that even if two people entered together during the day, they would be harmed. Abaye said to the yeshivah students: "Let no one offer him lodging; perhaps a miracle will occur." In other words, if no one hosts him, he will have no choice but to sleep in the study hall and will deal with the mazik. He spent the night in that study hall, and the demon appeared to him as a seven-headed serpent. With each bow he bowed in his prayer, one of its heads dropped off. The next morning he said to them: "Had a miracle not occurred, you would have endangered my life!" He was deeply aggrieved with them: How could you place me in such danger?
At first glance, one might ask: why was he not concerned that his merits would be diminished, as the rule states that one for whom a miracle is performed has his merits deducted? The Maharsha provides a well-known answer: when a deliverance is achieved through the power of prayer, it is not categorized as a merit-diminishing miracle. Here, everything was accomplished through prayer, bowing, and prostration. The efficacy of prayer operates within the framework of nature rather than as a supernatural miracle, for the Holy One, Blessed is He, embedded into the fabric of creation that prayer brings about change. Thus, he was able to act in this manner.
What does this teach us? When a person cleaves to Hashem, harmful spiritual forces do not merely fear and run from him; he actively crushes and nullifies them. Rav Acha bar Yaakov, through his intense deveikus in Hashem, through his bowing, prostrating, and profound connection to the Creator, shattered the serpent's heads - with each bow subduing another head of the mazik. As the Gemara notes regarding prayer, "he who straightens up should straighten up like a serpent"; because he bowed properly in submission before Hashem, the opposing power of the serpent collapsed. Those seven heads represent the seven forces of impurity that the primordial serpent brought down into the world.
We have learned from the verse "Who is this that looks forth like the dawn" the secret of gradual progression: just as the dawn does not break all at once, so too deveikus to Hashem is built stage by stage - first longing (chafitzah), then intense desire (chashikah), and only then enduring attachment (deveikah), corresponding to "You shall fear the Lord your God, Him shall you serve, and to Him shall you cleave" (Devarim 10:20). Parallel to this, the yetzer hara also operates gradually, urging a person to do a small wrong today and another tomorrow until he sinks to the lowest depths - which is why it is called "that wicked one," from whom we indirectly learn the path of step-by-step progress for the realm of holiness. The three stages are hinted at in the verse: "Fair as the moon" - modest light that already shields from harm; "Clear as the sun" - brilliant light that dispels evil completely; "Awesome as an army with banners" - absolute deveikus, where the tzaddik actively crushes the head of the serpent, as in the account of Rav Acha bar Yaakov. And along the way, we learned that the simple answer is usually the true answer, and that what truly endures is that which is acquired through effort and steady, gradual progress.
This concludes the twelfth discourse.