I Samuel 6:14-9:1

Hook

Imagine a cart, not pulled by weary oxen, but by two magnificent milch cows, their calves left behind, their lowing echoing a profound journey. This isn't just a scene from an ancient text; it's a visual testament to a covenant, a Divine intervention, and the echoes of a rich tradition that resonates through Sephardi and Mizrahi heritage.

Context

Place

Our story begins in the land of the Philistines, a land of ancient conflicts and cultural exchange, before moving to the territory of Israel, specifically the town of Beth-shemesh, and later Kiriath-jearim. These locations are significant not just geographically, but as stages for the dramatic return of the Ark of God.

Era

This narrative unfolds in the period of the Judges and the early days of the Israelite monarchy, a time of transition and spiritual upheaval. It bridges the era of charismatic leaders like Samuel with the nascent desire for kingship, a pivotal moment in Jewish history.

Community

The communities involved are the Philistines, the Israelites of Beth-shemesh and Kiriath-jearim, and the broader House of Israel. This passage highlights their interactions with the Divine, their understanding of covenant, and their yearning for a stable spiritual and political future. The subsequent sections will delve into how the wisdom and customs of Sephardi and Mizrahi communities have engaged with these profound themes.

Text Snapshot

"Then the Philistines summoned the priests and the diviners and asked, 'What shall we do about the Ark of GOD? Tell us with what we shall send it off to its own place.' They answered, 'If you are going to send the Ark of the God of Israel away, do not send it away without anything; you must also pay an indemnity. Then you will be healed, and he will be made known to you; otherwise his hand will not turn away from you.'" (I Samuel 6:14-15)

"The cows went straight ahead along the road to Beth-shemesh. They went along a single highroad, lowing as they went, and turning off neither to the right nor to the left; and the lords of the Philistines walked behind them as far as the border of Beth-shemesh." (I Samuel 6:18)

"And the people of Beth-shemesh asked, 'Who can stand in attendance on the ETERNAL, this holy God? And to whom shall this go up from us?'" (I Samuel 6:20)

"Then Samuel said to all the House of Israel, 'If you mean to return to GOD with all your heart, you must remove the alien gods and the Ashtaroth from your midst and direct your heart to GOD, who alone you should serve.'" (I Samuel 7:3)

Minhag/Melody

The return of the Ark to Beth-shemesh is marked by a profound act of devotion and contrition. The text states, "The people of Beth-shemesh were reaping their wheat harvest in the valley. They looked up and saw the Ark, and they rejoiced when they saw it... They split up the wood of the cart and presented the cows as a burnt offering to GOD. A large stone was there; and the Levites took down the Ark of GOD and the chest beside it containing the gold objects and placed them on the large stone. Then the inhabitants of Beth-shemesh presented burnt offerings and other sacrifices to GOD that day." (I Samuel 6:19-21)

This scene, particularly the offering of the cows and the splitting of the cart, resonates with a deep understanding of korban (sacrifice) and teshuvah (repentance) that is central to Jewish practice, and which has been preserved and interpreted through the ages in Sephardi and Mizrahi traditions. The commentators offer fascinating insights.

Rabbi David Altschuler (Malbim)

Malbim, in his commentary, emphasizes the miraculous nature of the cows' precise movement, noting, "And therefore the cows did not stop even now, and there was still a miracle: a) That now they turned from the road to the field, b) That they stopped in the field of Joshua of Beth-shemesh, and the reason is that there was a large stone there that was prepared by providence to place the Ark upon." He highlights that the Philistine lords "split the wood of the wagon and offered up the cows" (implying they commanded it), underscoring a communal recognition of divine will. This act of transforming instruments of their own undoing into offerings is a powerful symbol of acknowledging God's sovereignty.

Rabbi David Kimhi (Radak)

Radak explains the offering of the cows: "The people of Beth-shemesh split the wood of the wagon and offered the cows as a burnt offering, for the high places were permitted since Shiloh was destroyed, and any place was permissible for a single individual's altar." He then addresses a debate: "And there is in the aggadic interpretation from our Rabbis, of blessed memory, that the Philistine lords offered them up, because Rabbi Eliezer says that one does not offer from the animals of idolaters. And they objected to him this verse, and he answered, 'And from the Philistine lords do we learn?' And elsewhere they said it was a temporary ruling. This is the opinion of Rabbi Eliezer if the Israelites offered them." This discussion about the permissibility of offering sacrifices from non-Jews, and whether it was a specific decree for that moment, showcases the meticulous legal and theological reasoning found in Sephardi and Mizrahi scholarship. The very act of questioning and resolving such halachic nuances is a hallmark of their tradition.

Rabbi Elijah Mizrachi (Metzudat Zion & Ralbag)

Metzudat Zion simply identifies Beth-Shemesh as "from Beth-Shemesh, and it is the name of the city." Ralbag expands on the action: "And the wagon came to the field of Joshua of Beth-shemesh. And it stopped there, and there was a large stone there. And they split the wood of the wagon and offered the cows as a burnt offering to the Lord on the altar that they built there. And the people of Beth-shemesh offered burnt offerings and sacrifices of peace offerings that day to the Lord." This paints a vivid picture of the immediate and fervent response of the Beth-Shemesh community. The building of an altar and offering sacrifices upon the arrival of the Ark speaks to an ingrained ritualistic practice, a continuity of the Tabernacle and Temple traditions.

Rabbi David Shlomo Sasson (Minchat Shai)

Minchat Shai focuses on a linguistic detail: "And they split. The Kuf is doubled." This linguistic precision, often found in commentaries from the East, underscores the careful study of the sacred text. It’s a reminder that within Sephardi and Mizrahi traditions, every letter and every vowel can hold layers of meaning.

These commentaries, spanning different eras and regions, demonstrate a shared commitment to understanding the text with depth, nuance, and a reverence for tradition. The communal sacrifice at Beth-shemesh, as interpreted by these scholars, is not merely a historical event but a theological statement about divine power, human responsibility, and the enduring nature of Jewish ritual. The spirit of communal prayer and offering, as exemplified here, is a melody that has been sung in synagogues from Baghdad to Barcelona, from Salonica to Safed, for centuries.

Contrast

The narrative of the Ark's return is a powerful illustration of how different communities approach Divine interaction. In this passage, when the Ark arrives at Beth-shemesh, the immediate reaction is one of both joy and fear. The people, upon seeing the Ark, "rejoiced," but this joy quickly turns to dread when "GOD struck at the inhabitants of Beth-shemesh because they looked into the Ark of GOD—striking down seventy from among the people." This leads to their desperate plea: "Who can stand in attendance on the ETERNAL, this holy God? And to whom shall this go up from us?" (I Samuel 6:20). They then send messengers to Kiriath-jearim to retrieve the Ark.

This sequence highlights a particular emphasis on the awe and even terror associated with the direct presence of the Divine, particularly concerning the Ark itself. The Sephardi and Mizrahi traditions, while deeply reverent of God's holiness, often express this awe through a different lens of devotional expression.

Sephardi/Mizrahi Approach to Awe

In many Sephardi and Mizrahi communities, the awe of God is expressed not necessarily through avoiding direct observation or contact (as the people of Beth-shemesh fear), but through a profound engagement with the spiritual through piyut (liturgical poetry) and structured prayer. For example, the solemnity of Tisha B'Av might be marked by a profound sense of tzelem Elohim (the Divine image) even in the face of destruction. The lamentations are not just about loss, but about the yearning for closeness, a testament to the belief that even in sorrow, God's presence can be felt and approached.

Consider the piyyutim recited on the High Holy Days. While acknowledging God's judgment, they are saturated with pleas for mercy and expressions of intimate connection. The refrain of many prayers is not one of fearful withdrawal, but of passionate supplication, a desire to draw nearer to the Divine, even while recognizing His supreme holiness. The emphasis is often on the accessibility of God through prayer, Torah study, and heartfelt devotion, rather than on the overwhelming power that might lead to a catastrophic divine strike. The Sephardi and Mizrahi traditions often imbue their worship with a palpable sense of hitlahavut (fervor) and devekut (cleaving to God), suggesting that while the holiness is understood as immense, the path to experiencing it is through active, heartfelt engagement, rather than fearful circumspection. The message is one of confident prayer, a belief that God, in His mercy, hears the cries of His people, as powerfully demonstrated by Samuel's prayer for Israel against the Philistines later in the same chapter.

Home Practice

This passage highlights the journey of the Ark and the profound impact of its presence. A simple yet powerful way to connect with this theme in your own home is through creating a "Sacred Space."

Find a small corner in your home, perhaps a bookshelf or a side table. Dedicate this space to your spiritual life. You don't need elaborate items. Consider placing a beautiful Seder plate (even outside of Passover, as a reminder of tradition), a small piece of art that inspires you, a well-loved prayer book, or even a smooth stone that reminds you of the "Stone of Help" (Eben-ezer). When you pass this space, take a moment to pause, perhaps say a short prayer, or simply reflect on the journey of the Ark and your own spiritual journey. This personal altar can serve as a quiet anchor, a reminder of the sacred within the everyday, much like the Ark was a tangible symbol of God's presence for Israel.

Takeaway

The story of the Ark's return is a tapestry woven with threads of divine power, human frailty, and the enduring quest for connection. From the awe-inspiring journey of the cows to the earnest pleas of Samuel, this narrative resonates deeply within the Sephardi and Mizrahi traditions. These traditions, with their rich heritage of piyut, meticulous commentary, and vibrant communal worship, offer us pathways to understand and engage with the Divine. They teach us that while God's holiness is immense, our capacity for devotion, prayer, and a sincere "return of the heart" can draw us closer, transforming fear into fervent connection. The journey of the Ark reminds us that God's presence is a continuous unfolding, a testament to His unwavering covenant with us.