A Crown of Thorns- The Rejection and Rise of King David - Shavuot

A Crown of Thorns: The Rejection and Rise of DavidHaMelechShavuot, Malchut Beit David, and the Voice of the Lonely Soul  Every year on Shavuot, as we crown the Torah anew at HarSinai, another quiet coronation takes place—the birth and passing of DavidHaMelech. We read Megillat Ruth not just for its tale of kindness andconversion, but because it concludes with David’s genealogy, tracing the rootsof Israel’s true kingship back to a Moabite outsider.  Unlike ancient monarchies that claimed divine ancestry, theJewish king is chosen for righteousness. David's origins are deeply human, evenpainfully so. His great-grandmother Ruth was a convert from Moav, a nationseemingly barred from entering Kahal Hashem. The Torah states: 'Lo yavoAmmoni uMoavi b’kahal Hashem'—yet the Oral Torah clarifies thisprohibition applied only to males, due to Moav's lack of hospitality, a traitnot expected of women at the time. Boaz, acting as posek and judge, ruledpublicly that Ruth was permitted. Yet not everyone accepted that psak, andcontroversy lingered for generations.  The Midrash tells us Boaz died the night after marryingRuth. Some saw this as Divine disapproval. Others whispered that perhaps Boaz’spsak was flawed. Even his grandson Yishai—David’s father—began to doubt. Heseparated from his wife Nitzevet bat Adael, fearing his lineage washalachically compromised. In a complex halachic arrangement, he attempted tofather a child through a maidservant, only for Nitzevet to secretly take herplace. From that union, David was born—in silence, in secrecy.  David was not accepted as a full son. Treated as a safekmamzer, he was relegated to the margins, raised in shame. As he writes inTehillim, “I was a stranger to my brothers, an alien to my mother’s sons.”(Tehillim 69:9)  Yet in those lonely fields, David connected to Hashem withan open heart. His rejection became resilience. His pain became poetry. SeferTehillim is the soul-song of every Jew in exile—our yearning, our heartbreak,our hope.  When Shmuel HaNavi was sent to anoint the next king, he cameto Beit Lechem and met Yishai’s sons. All seven were presented. None werechosen. Shmuel asked, “Ha’tammu ha’nearim?”—not 'Are these all yoursons?' but 'Are the lads finished?'—a question that left spacefor the one not counted. Yishai replied, “There remains the youngest—he’stending sheep.” When David arrived, Hashem declared: “Kum meshacheihu—Arise andanoint him, for this is the one.”  Even then, David’s path was not smooth. When he brought foodto his brothers on the battlefield, Eliav rebuked him harshly. David responded,“What have I done now? It was just a question.” (Shmuel I 17:29) This phrasecaptures David’s life—a constant struggle to justify his presence.  David’s victory over Golyat didn’t erase the doubts. EvenShaul asked, “Whose son is this youth?” though he had already met David. TheMidrash explains: Shaul knew who David was, but now, sensing his greatness, hewondered—could this boy be royal? Could he be Mashiach?  David’s spirit brought peace to Shaul, but also triggeredhis downfall. The pasuk says, “Ruach Hashem departed from Shaul, and adistressing spirit tormented him.” David’s music soothed him—but perhaps it wasmore than music. It was the ruach tova of a soul that had suffered andsanctified that suffering.  The bond between David and Yonatan is one of the mostpowerful in Tanach. Yonatan, heir to the throne, saw in David the soul Hashemhad chosen. He stripped his royal garments and gave them to David—not out ofdefeat, but submission to truth. The Zohar sees their bond as representing thesefirot of tiferet and yesod—a sacred fusion in preparation for eternalkingship.  David hid in caves, fled for his life, and twice sparedShaul, never raising a hand against him. When Shaul and Yonatan died, Davidwept: “Eich naflu giborim—How the mighty have fallen.”  Finally, David was crowned—first in Chevron, then over allIsrael. The shepherd. The servant. The suspected mamzer. Now Melech Yisrael.  So why tell this story on Shavuot?  Because Shavuot is not just Zman Matan Torateinu. It is ZmanMatan Malchuteinu. The giving of Torah is not only about revelation—it’s abouttransformation. David wasn’t chosen despite his suffering, but through it.Torah doesn’t belong only to the perfect—it belongs to those who cling toHashem through pain.  The redemptive arc of David’s life mirrors the path ofMashiach, who emerges through spiritual concealment. From Lot’s daughters andYehuda and Tamar, to Ruth and Boaz, and finally Yishai and Nitzevet—each stepis cloaked in scandal, yet woven with divine purpose. Kabbalah teaches that thesoul of Mashiach must be hidden, lest the Satan destroy it. This is hesterpanim—Divine concealment as protection.  The soul of Mashiach descends into spiritual obscurity toredeem it from within. He is not a king of polished pedigree, but one whoelevates the fallen. As Rav Kook wrote, “Out of the crooked timber of humanity,Mashiach will carve the pillars of redemption.”  And now us. We’ve waited not 28 years—but 2,000. We, too,have been exiled, accused, misunderstood. But we didn’t stop singing. LikeDavid, we turned exile into encounter.  So this Shavuot, when we crown the Torah anew, let us alsocrown the David within us—the one who clings to Hashem through doubt, who singsthrough suffering, who waits not in despair, but in emunah.  May we be worthy to hear, soon and in our days:Kum meshacheihu—Arise and anoint him.Because the world is ready.And because we are still singing.       As theRabbis have told us that Shimon Chai’s Neshama is already at the highest levelsof Shamayim it was suggested than anything should be given LeIluy Nishmat – hisfour great grandfathers, my dad Yosef ben Esther, my father in Law YosefMordechai ben Rachel, Rabbanit Ilana Alouf’s dad, Nissim ben Leah and RabbiAlouf’s father Yehuda gamil ben chatun – ve’et ben, ben, ben beno and theirgreat grandson Shimon Chai Ben Moriah Bracha Devora