The dove flies on, from Noah’s ark, to David’s soul, and to ours, hopeful olive leaf in beak -- in today’s poem we find out that she is mute.
But why?
Who or what is this dove that’s become such an enduring and surprising symbol?
Today’s psalm opens with another instructional trope, presumably a note to the musical conductor on how to play this poem and with what instrument. The second part of the introduction places this psalm in a historical moment of it’s presumed poet’s past - yet another crisis for David, from which a plea for help emerges as a psalm.
But it’s the first words of this verse that call for attention -- they are so weird that they have either been left untranslated into other languages or else opened up this mythical dimension which is where the dove appears:
לַמְנַצֵּ֤חַ ׀ עַל־י֬וֹנַת אֵ֣לֶם רְ֭חֹקִים לְדָוִ֣ד מִכְתָּ֑ם בֶּאֱחֹ֨ז אוֹת֖וֹ פְלִשְׁתִּ֣ים בְּגַֽת׃
“For the leader; on yonath elem reḥokim. Of David. A michtam; when the Philistines seized him in Gath.”
Ps. 56:1
What is ‘yonath elem rehokim’? Is it a musical instrument we no longer know, an archaic style of composition or is it literally though cryptically - ‘a dove of silent distances’?
Robert Alter suggests:
“This is one of the most mysterious of the musical terms in Psalms. The literal sense of the three Hebrew words is haunting: “the mute dove of distant places.” The great medieval poet Judah Halevi responded to the evocativeness of the phrase in his poetry by turning it into a concrete image of Israel’s exile.”
How did we get to the dove being the symbol of Jewish exile?
Rabbi Benny Lau writes:
“For centuries, the symbol of the dove or pigeon searching for a home has been an integral element in traditional Jewish sources - whether it is a homing pigeon carrying a greeting or the dove that finds a place to rest after the Flood… The ‘silent dove’ that we find in this psalm is a creature that can’t find words to articulate its feelings. This dove became the symbol of the people of Israel during our long exile. One of the most poignant poems of Rabbi Yehuda Ha’Levi was dedicated to the description of this ‘dove of distant silence.’”
Yehuda Ha’Levi was a Spanish-Jewish poet and philosopher whose legacy continues to astound generations of readers. He was born in Toledo, died in Jerusalem and lived through the first crusade in the 12th century.
Like others of his poems he weaves the biblical with the political and uses metaphors that echo the hardship of exile and yearning for safety, with spiritual longing for finding one’s inner home.
A Dove in the Distance is one of his poems, echoing today’s psalm, and translated by Peter Cole:
“A dove in the distance fluttered,
flitting through the forest—
unable to recover
she flew up, flustered, hovering,
circling round her lover.
She’d thought the thousand
years to the Time of the End
about to come and was
confounded in her designs,
and tormented by her lover,
over the years was parted
from Him—her soul descending
bared to the world below.
She vowed never again
to mention His name, but deep
within her heart it held,
as though a fire burning.
Why be like her foes?
Her bill opens wide
toward the latter rain
of your salvation; her soul
within her faith is firm,
and she does not despair,
whether she is honored
through His name or whether
in disdain brought low.
Let God, our Lord, come
and not be still: Around Him
storms of fire rage.”
Whatever this dove represents, she must be so exhausted.
A thousand years after Ha’Levi we are still strugglin with yearning for safety and security - even, and most tragically, in our own home.
She may be mute but we hear her cries today, not silent, though quiet, in the face of so much fury and sorrow.
This psalm requests protection from beyond, begging for each tear to be treated kindly, to be seen and counted, for each pain to be held and accountable for.
This dove of longing keeps cooing on, in our souls and memories, within our spirit and our songs, as the persistent desire for flying away from trouble, for finding refuge, for never giving up on the flight of the imagination, the power of the poets, the faith that one day, all of us, everywhere, will find some peace within our body, home, homeland, and beyond.
Fly, gently, on.
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