Last time we ended with (תהילים קכט:ח) ולא אמרו העברים ברכת ה׳ אליכם; ברכנו אתכם בשם ה׳. We were saved from the שפת שקר and לשון רמיה that started with the first שיר המעלות, פרק קכ, but only through a relationship with הקב״ה and each other of מדת הדין. Greeting each other בשם ה׳ has a special meaning:
Specifically, we greet with the word “שלום”, which is a name of G-d:
And it is an example of עֵת לַעֲשׂוֹת לַה׳ הֵפֵרוּ תּוֹרָתֶךָ; we can use ה׳'s name almost casually because of the importance of שלום.
This is hinted at in the aggadah that has formed the basis for our study of שיר המעלות:
We treat the שם ה׳ casually to create שלום. Our relationship with ה׳ reflects and is reflected in our relationship with others. מדת הדין is distancing; we likened our relationship to ה׳ to slavery:
מדת הרחמים means we are closer, that we feel united with the other. That is what שלום means.I can treat G-d as a friend, if that means I treat my friends as friends.
But in the context of the שירי המעלות we’re not there yet:
What is the מעמקים, the depths? Most מפרשים assume it refers to the lowly state of בני ישראל:
But the perek doesn’t talk about this; it talks about how we want ה׳ to be close to us. So I would read מעמקים as our
distance from הקב״ה. That is the nature of מדת הדין; it is a relationship of יראה.
The Rambam says that we feel inadequate and distant whenever we contemplate ה׳'s inifinitude:
The perek continues:
If G-d is perfect and infinite, then we, imperfect human beings, cannot exist. Rav Soloveitchik calls יראה (Maimonides: Between Philosophy and Halakhah, p. 233) “the consciousness of ontic separation”. What allows us to exist is ה׳'s סליחה, the miracle of תשובה.
תשובה exists למען תורא, so that You can be feared, so that we can continue to exist even in a relationship of יראה. But we want more. We want אהבה, closeness. The full quote of the Rambam is:
The tone then changes from a prayer to ה׳ (addressed in second person) to a speech to the people (with ה׳ referred to in the third person), describing this feeling.
The missing verb in נפשי לאדנ־י (by the parallelism, it’s קוה or הוחלה) emphasizes this yearning to be one with ה׳. It literally means “my soul is for G-d”.
Some מפרשים read משמרים as “I am one of those who wait for morning”, literally those who daven in the morning:
Ibn Ezra reads it as a simile:
As someone who works overnights, I understand what it means to be שמרים לבקר.
But there is a deeper meaning to hoping for the morning:
שמרים לבקר is an expression of existential angst. I wish for morning because I don’t know if I will continue to be: והיו חייך תלאים לך. And that is why נפשי לאדנ־י.
The psalmist ends the perek exhorting all the people to yearn for ה׳ just as he does:
ה׳ is the source of חסד, the relationship of אהבה:
Before, the pasuk said עמך הסליחה. Now it is עם ה׳ החסד, because the ultimate source of סליחה is חסד.
והוא יפדה את ישראל means we need to get to that חסד. We need to work on a relationship of אהבה rather than יראה.
The next perek is a continuation of the previous one, and an expansion of its last pasuk:
The first step to getting closer to הקב״ה (and, by extension, to getting closer to another person) is to be quiet and listen. אם לא שויתי ודוממתי נפשי, ”if I had not made myself be calm and silent“ is an aposiopesis.
The second step is to not treat the relationship as transactional: what can I get out of it? My אהבת ה׳ has to be like a גָּמֻל, a weaned child, to its mother. Babies are inherently selfish; mothers exist solely to feed them. Nursing creates the close bond between mother and child but weaning does not remove that bond; it makes the bond itself the center of the relationship. I don’t love ה׳ for what I can get out of Him.
And so we move from יראה to אהבה:
The next perek, תהילים פרק קלב, is about David’s attempts to build the בית המקדש: זכור ה׳ לדוד…אשר נשבע לה׳…אמצא מקום לה׳. It is a long perek (for a שיר המעלות) and it expresses the goal of the “מעלות”: to finally get to the בית המקדש. We discussed it in Sitting in Yeshiva. It is not the end of the series of שירי המעלות because David does not build the בית המקדש.
There is still a step missing. We have to go from a relationship of אהבה with ה׳ to a relationship of אהבה with our fellow human beings. The בית המקדש can only exist in a society of (דברים יב:י) הניח לכם מכל איביכם מסביב וישבתם בטח. And that is the message of the next perek.
That ought to say it all. But the perek continues with a very odd simile:
If we skipped that and went to the next (and last) pasuk, we have a more reasonable simile:
The moisture (the life-giving טל) that starts from the highest point in ארץ ישראל and flows down to the rest of ציון is the symbol of ה׳'s ברכה, and the state of שבת אחים גם יחד is part of that ברכה. That is שלום with הקב״ה and שלום בין אדם לחבירו, and that allows for our true existence: חיים עד העולם. We need to realize that, despite Sartre, Hell isn’t other people; heaven is other people.
But what about this שמן הטוב? The expression is familiar to us from קהלת:
(I will ignore the second half of the pasuk). The first half of the pasuk has the sound of a popular saying, a punny antimetabole. I would assume that David has the same meaning in mind as Shlomo; the midrash connects the two usages:
And the image appears again in שיר השירים:
The gemara tries to explain the image of שמן הטוב…על הזקן, זקן אהרן:
That doesn’t make any sense at all. The Maharsha explains this with two other statements about Aharon:
The Maharsha explains that the שמן טוב that ירד על פי מדותיו, literally “fell onto the opening of his garment”, symbolizes “came down as a result of his speech and his character”. The oil that remained symbolized the fact that the שמן המשכה, the anointing oil, would remain with his descendants.
שמן symbolizes the ברכה that ה׳ gives human beings. שמן טוב is שמן תורק; oil that is poured out, that is given to others. Just like the waters of חרמון that supply all of ציון, and like Moshe who anointed his brother as כהן in his place, generosity to one another is the מה טוב ומה נעים שבת אחים גם יחד that leads to צוה ה׳ את הברכה; חיים עד העולם.
The שמן טוב symbolizes the ברכה that ה׳ gives Aharon because he is a אוהב שלום ורודף שלום and thereby takes the שם ה׳ of שלום and turns it into his own שם that is even greater than שמן טוב. It is the reputation that acts as a lesson for others, spreading the שבת אחים גם יחד. And when we learn that lesson, we move on to the last שיר המעלות:
(We analyzed this in detail in הלל הגדול). Having escaped משפת שקר, מלשון רמיה, out of the המים הזידונים and climbed ממעמקים to the heights of חרמון, we now can be one of those העמדים בבית ה׳. And that is what the שירי המעלות are all about.