Hayyei Sarah (Pslams)

Psalm 45: A Hymenal Hymn

This week’s Torah portion contains the first real account in the Torah of a marriage, or more properly the arrangements that preceded it and the bringing of the bride to her new home. Abraham sends his servant Eliezer to find a wife for Isaac in the “old country” of Mesopotamia, whom he then brings back with him. Hence, it is a not- inappropriate time to read Psalm 45, one of whose numerous titles is shir yedidot, “a song of friendship” or “endearment,” or perhaps better, “a love song” (from the same root as dodim, used extensively in Song of Songs)—often referred to as a “royal wedding hymn.”

This psalm is among a handful in the Psalter which is neither about God nor addressed to Him (He is only mentioned in passing in two places as the source of blessing), but is primarily concerned with a theme taken from human life in and of itself. Psalm 45 is divided into two almost equal halves: after the title and an introductory verse, in which the author portrays himself reciting his “gracious words… my tongue is like the pen of an expert scribe,” verses 3-9 praise the royal bridegroom, detailing both his physical appearance and his moral virtues (“Your throne is Divine, everlasting; your royal scepter is a scepter of equity… you love righteousness and hate wickedness”: vv. 7-8). Verse 10 is a transitional sentence, leading into the wedding itself: “Princesses are your maidens of honor; your royal consort stands by your right hand, decked with fine gold from Ophir.” This is followed, in vv. 11-16, by a series of admonitions to the girl who is being brought from afar (as was Rivkah in our parsha) to marry the king, and a description of her appearance, her entourage, her garments and jewelry and the various gifts she brings.

This section includes the famous phrase, “all the honor of the king’s daughter is within” (kol kevudah bat melekh penimah, v. 14a), which is often cited, particularly in more pietist circles (following Rambam in Ishut 13.11), as a proof-text for the importance of feminine modesty, or even to show that women ought not to be involved in public life but only in the private realms of home and family. Is this in fact the meaning of this verse? RSV reads it as “the princess is decked in her chamber.” That is, penimah simply refers to the place in which the bride gets dressed—i.e., in a private, inner chamber—in her finery, kevudah. The word kavod can mean not only “honor,” but also “that which is ponderous or heavy”—hence “wealth,” “abundance,” or “goods” (as in Lavan’s sons’ accusations against Jacob in Gen 31:1; for the specific form kevudah as used here, see Jdg 18:21 and Ezek 23:41); hence, it refers to the fancy raiment in which the bride is dressed for the wedding. BDB reads kevudah here as an adjective, “glorious,” the sense being “a queen in bridal array.” Similarly, OJSP reads “all glorious is the king’s daughter within the palace.” NJPS breaks up the sentence completely, attaching kevudah to the end of v. 13 (“…will court your favor with gifts and goods of all sorts”); leaves bat melekh as the noun which serves as the subject of verse 14 (“the royal princess, her dress embroidered…”); while penimah is seen as belonging to v. 15 (“is led inside to the king”). While the end result may be more coherent than some of the other readings, this sort of cutting and pasting of the Masoretic Text is highly problematical, to say the least. Art Scroll, advocating the moralistic view mentioned above, reads “the compete glory of the princess is within”; but, in light of the other philological options brought above, it becomes clear that this is not the peshat.

The woman is told to “forget your people and the house of your father” (11b) and to be devoted entirely to her husband, “who will desire your beauty” (12a), for “he is your master and you shall bow down to him” (12b). The final two verses refer to the blessings both of them will enjoy from the children that will ultimately be born of this union, and the renown they will bring to both parents when as prominent people in the land (vv. 17-18): “Instead of your ancestors shall be your children” (17a). Interestingly, this verse was quoted to me by the late Prof. David Flusser when my youngest child was born just two short days after my mother’s death. Here, of course, it refers primarily to the woman leaving her home and birth family. In the ancient and even the medieval world, marriage could mean total abandonment of one’s childhood family, with little hope of having any contact thereafter. Historian Abraham Grossman has noted that the high rate of divorce in 12th century Ashkenaz was precipitated by the fact that young brides (or bridegrooms), often themselves barely out of childhood, were not infrequently forced to make the cruel choice between moving with their husband and in-laws to some distant city as required by the exigencies of business, never to see or even hear from their parents or siblings again, or remaining with that which was familiar and supportive and divorcing. For us, in this age of email and cheap transatlantic phone calls and jet-planes, it is difficult to even imagine such a world or such a situation. It has been suggested by some that this psalm may be compared with the Song of Songs. While the theme of marriage and union between man and woman is the same, there are striking differences: first, this psalm does not have the same erotic tone, the intimate descriptions of the body of the beloved, the longing to run away and be together, bedding down beneath the tall trees of the forest. The atmosphere here is far more formal and stately; the situation is clearly that of an arranged, state wedding, rather than that of lovers engaged in a spontaneous, passionate, even clandestine romance. Second, unlike the rustic, lyric background of Song of Songs set in the bosom of nature, with the sights and smells and sounds of the flora and fauna of Eretz Yisrael, here one can almost see and touch the rich interior of the palace, with its gold and silver and precious stones and rich embroidered garments. Hence, the tradition does not see such a need to interpret it in an allegorical way, as referring to God and Israel, but tends to read it as peshat. Some (such as Steinsaltz) have noted that it may be read not only as a royal psalm, but as referring to any bride and groom; after all, every bride is seen as a queen, and every bridegroom is a king.