Handel’s “Arrival of the Queen of Sheba” — The World on Its Way to Jerusalem

“And the Queen of Sheba heard of Solomon’s fame in connection with the name of the Lord . . . and she came to Jerusalem with a very great retinue, with camels bearing spices, very much gold, and precious stones . . . And the Queen of Sheba saw all the wisdom of Solomon . . . and there was no more spirit in her.” (I Kings 10)

Solomon’s Reign — in the Sound of the Baroque

In mid-eighteenth-century London, at the height of the Baroque era, George Frideric Handel — one of the great masters of Baroque music and a towering figure in the classical tradition — turned to one of the Bible’s greatest figures: King Solomon. In 1748 he composed Solomon, a large-scale oratorio for soloists, chorus, and orchestra that paints, in music, the reign of Solomon at the height of its splendor.

This is not an opera in which the story is enacted onstage, but a concert oratorio: the drama is created entirely through voices and orchestra. Handel shapes his portrait of Solomon in three broad scenes, each illuminating a different dimension of his reign.

Part One is dominated by the Temple: its dedication, the worship of G-d and praise at its completion, alongside a portrayal of the peace and abundance of Solomon’s reign.

Part Two centers on Solomon’s wisdom, above all the judgment of the two women and the child — the biblical episode that became an enduring emblem of the king’s extraordinary wisdom.

Part Three opens the view beyond the borders of the kingdom. Solomon’s fame reaches distant lands, and the Queen of Sheba comes to meet the king whose wisdom and royal splendor have become known throughout the world.

And here, just before the words begin, Handel lets the orchestra speak.

Part Three opens with a brief, dazzling instrumental movement: The Arrival of the Queen of Sheba.¹ Two oboes lead the orchestra in a rapid, festive dialogue; the strings keep the music in ceaseless motion; and the entire piece fills with a sense of movement, expectation, and unfolding event. Something is coming from afar — and drawing closer.

Lasting only a few minutes, the movement eventually broke free of the larger oratorio and became one of Handel’s most recognizable and beloved works. Today it is frequently performed as an independent orchestral piece, often at festive occasions and ceremonies, even when listeners know nothing of the larger story from which it comes.

Yet when the movement is restored to its original place within Solomon, its distinctive role in the work becomes clear. In the first two parts we encounter Solomon from within — his Temple, his kingdom, his wisdom. Here, at the opening of Part Three, the perspective reverses: the camera, as it were, moves outward, toward the wider world — to the distant places reached by Solomon’s fame and to the wonder and excitement it awakens there. And from there, the movement begins in the opposite direction: from the wider world — toward Solomon and Jerusalem.

What Drew the Queen of Sheba?

Handel’s music gives us a kind of musical picture of the moment. Somewhere in a distant land, the Queen of Sheba hears of Solomon’s fame. What she hears stirs her so deeply that she rises and sets out — at the head of a great retinue and bearing the treasures of her land — on the long journey to Jerusalem.

And when she arrives, the oratorio gives us a revealing detail: the first thing to which Solomon directs her gaze is the Temple: “The temple of the Lord first meets your eyes.”

But what actually drew her there? What was it in Solomon’s fame that traveled across such distances and moved a queen to leave her own land and come to him?

Here, the teachings of Chassidus give this picture an entirely new and far-reaching meaning. The Queen of Sheba had heard of Solomon’s wisdom; but what truly drew her was something beyond human wisdom. As the Lubavitcher Rebbe explains:²

The Queen of Sheba’s journey, then, is not merely the story of a queen who traveled from afar to hear the wisdom of a great king. It expresses a far deeper movement: a great Divine light shines, and distant sparks sense it and are drawn toward it — not by coercion and not by war, but, as it were, of their own accord, like sparks drawn to a great flame.³

Nor was the Queen of Sheba an isolated case. She was the most striking expression of a much broader movement. Scripture describes a movement that encompassed many nations: “And they came from all the peoples to hear the wisdom of Solomon, from all the kings of the earth who had heard of his wisdom.”⁴ The Queen of Sheba was perhaps its most vivid embodiment — a powerful queen from a distant land,⁵ reached by Solomon’s fame and moved by it to set out for Jerusalem.

Hearing from afar had already been enough to make her rise and set out, with a great retinue and precious treasures. But when she reached Jerusalem and encountered at close range the Divine revelation that shone through Solomon — “there was no more spirit in her.”

“All the Nations Will Stream to Him” — The Queen of Sheba as a Model for Redemption

The story of the Queen of Sheba does not belong only to the past. It is an early image of a far greater and more complete movement — the one the prophets describe in connection with the Messianic era: “all the nations will stream to him.”

The Rebbe describes the era of Solomon itself as “a foretaste of the true and complete Redemption.”⁶ In David’s time, wars were still necessary; under Solomon, kingship reached a different state: the nations were nullified before his wisdom without the necessity for war, and his era was marked by peace and tranquility. In the days of Mashiach, that peace will reach its perfection — not merely an end to war, but a new global reality: “Nation shall not lift up sword against nation, neither shall they learn war any more,” culminating in the vision of “the wolf shall dwell with the lamb.”

But the parallel goes beyond peace itself. The movement that began in Solomon’s time will reach its fullness in the days of Mashiach — this time on a global scale. Already in Solomon’s day, Scripture tells us that people came “from all the kings of the earth” to hear his wisdom. In the days of Mashiach, however, the picture expands to embrace all humanity, without exception: “all the nations will stream to him.”

And so, when we listen anew to Handel’s Arrival of the Queen of Sheba, we can hear far more than a royal caravan from the ancient world. Suddenly, a work that looks thousands of years backward begins to sound as though it is looking forward — taking on an almost prophetic dimension: a prefiguration of what will one day unfold on a global scale. Peoples and lands, leaders and kings, from every corner of the earth, turn toward Jerusalem, toward Mashiach and the Third Temple. It is as though the Queen of Sheba’s caravan keeps widening until the whole world joins it: “all the nations will stream to him.”

The World Brings Its Treasures

There is another detail in the biblical picture that cannot be overlooked. The Queen of Sheba does not arrive empty-handed. She brings the treasures of her land — “spices, very much gold, and precious stones” — as a gift and tribute to King Solomon.

In Chassidic teaching, this detail too acquires an inner meaning. In the same talk, the Rebbe describes how, in Solomon’s time, the process reached the point that “the nations brought Solomon the sparks of holiness [within them] (as is known regarding the Queen of Sheba).” The nations themselves were not the only ones drawn toward the Divine center; they brought with them the sparks that were to be found within them.

In this picture, the world is not meant to approach holiness by leaving its treasures behind. On the contrary: it comes with them. The beauty, wisdom, talent, and creativity scattered across the far reaches of the earth find their place and purpose when they are reconnected with their source.

And perhaps a musical work written by Handel nearly three centuries ago can itself be one of those treasures.

The Arrival of the Queen of Sheba — A Musical Picture

Having illuminated the story through the lens of Chassidus, we can now return to Handel’s music — and listen again.

So what do we hear in The Arrival of the Queen of Sheba?

First of all: motion. The tempo is fast and energetic, almost galloping. The strings never allow the music to stand still; it streams forward, drawing ever closer. After the teachings of Chassidus, it is difficult not to hear within this motion the prophetic word “venaharu” — they will not merely come; they will be drawn, they will stream like a river, moving in multitudes toward a single place.

Within that motion is festivity and mounting excitement. This is no quiet journey by a solitary traveler. The Queen of Sheba comes to Jerusalem “with a very great retinue,” and the rich string texture can almost paint the great caravan for the ear: a multitude in motion, the road alive with activity, something momentous about to happen.

Above it all are the two oboes. They stand out over the strings, conversing with one another, imitating and completing one another’s phrases, at times stepping briefly into the foreground. One can almost hear in them two individual voices within the multitude: one calls, the other answers; the news passes from person to person, and wonder becomes a living conversation within the great movement — toward Solomon, toward Jerusalem.

Handel’s music is indeed abundant. This is not a delicate, intimate melody. It has multiplicity, brilliance, motion, and festivity. The two virtuosic oboes above the strings create a sense of splendor and musical richness. The larger picture emerges: Sheba comes to Solomon bringing all that she has.

And here the musical picture takes on a new light.

The strings no longer paint only a single caravan traveling the roads of the ancient world. We can hear in them an entire world set in motion. Distant lands, peoples and cultures, person after person and multitude after multitude — drawn toward the light and making their way to Jerusalem. With their treasures.

And within the vast multitude the two oboes can still be heard: the individual voices. Human beings themselves, sensing that something is happening, calling to one another and joining the movement.

“Come, let us go up to the mountain of the Lord, to the House of the G-d of Jacob.”

Hearing the World Stream Toward Jerusalem

It is told⁷ that during a visit to a museum, the Rebbe Rashab stood for a long time before a painting of the Splitting of the Sea, tears flowing from his eyes. The Frierdiker Rebbe later explained the unique power of seeing something tangibly: an idea that the soul may already know and comprehend acquires a different force when it stands visibly before one’s eyes.

There is tangible seeing — and there is also tangible hearing.

The Arrival of the Queen of Sheba can give the ear a living picture of “all the nations will stream to him”: distances begin to close, the multitude moves into motion, individual voices call to one another, and the treasures of the world make their way toward Jerusalem.

What occurred in Solomon’s time as “a foretaste of the true and complete Redemption” will soon be revealed in its fullness.

And then, when we hear The Arrival of the Queen of Sheba, we will see before our eyes not only a single queen making her way to Jerusalem.

The world is on its way to Jerusalem.