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David Blessed God Five Times Because Moses Gave Five Books

David's five calls to bless God in Psalms 103 and 104 were not repetition. Vayikra Rabbah says each blessing answered one of the five books Moses gave Israel.

Curated by Arthur · Told by Maggid ·
Table of Contents
  1. The Count That Could Not Be Coincidence
  2. Five Books, Five Blessings
  3. The Hallelujah He Would Not Speak
  4. What the Tikkunei Zohar Added About Moses

The Count That Could Not Be Coincidence

Across Psalms 103 and 104, the soul David addresses keeps returning to the same command: bless the Lord. It happens five times. Once in Psalm 103, three times as that psalm closes, once more to open Psalm 104. David was a poet of extraordinary range, a man who wrote anguish, triumph, longing, and praise with equal force. He did not repeat himself out of poverty of language. When his psalms count five times, the rabbis who studied them refused to treat the count as ornament.

Vayikra Rabbah, the midrash on Leviticus compiled in the Land of Israel around the 4th-5th century CE, makes the connection in its reading of Rabbi Yochanan. The five blessings correspond to the five books of Moses. David's song is not floating free of Torah. It is built to answer it, blessing for book, gratitude for law, the soul's response to each of the five pillars that Moses placed in Israel's hands.

Five Books, Five Blessings

Genesis teaches creation and origins. The soul that has been formed by Genesis blesses God for the breath that was given it at the beginning, the life that did not have to exist and exists anyway. Exodus teaches liberation and covenant. The soul blesses God for the redemption from Egypt, for the splitting of the sea, for the moment when the enslaved became the covenanted. Leviticus teaches holiness and offering. The soul blesses for the system of atonement, for the possibility of return after failure. Numbers teaches wandering and endurance. The soul blesses for the continuation through the wilderness, the years of waiting that did not break what had been promised. Deuteronomy teaches the law repeated, the covenant renewed at the border of the land. The soul blesses for the arrival at the destination, for the word that was still alive after forty years of carrying it.

Rabbi Yehoshua ben Levi, also in Vayikra Rabbah, reads the five blessings differently: each corresponds to the five stages of the soul that David names in relation to his own body. The soul, the breath, the spirit, the life-force, the self: five registers of the inner person, each one capable of blessing, each one completing the act of praise in a different register of the self.

The Hallelujah He Would Not Speak

Midrash Tehillim, a midrashic collection on Psalms from the Talmudic period, preserved a tradition about the word David withheld the longest. He composed 103 psalms before he allowed himself to say Hallelujah. The Talmud counted carefully. One hundred and three psalms, and only in the hundred and third did he allow himself that full cry of praise.

The reason is preserved in the verse where Hallelujah finally appears: "Let sinners be consumed out of the earth, and let the wicked be no more. Bless the Lord, O my soul, Hallelujah" (Psalms 104:35). David did not let his lips shape that word until he had seen, in prophetic vision, the end of wickedness itself. Praise in his mouth was not a decoration or a reflex. It was a judgment on the history of the world. He held it back until the history justified it.

What the Tikkunei Zohar Added About Moses

The Tikkunei Zohar, a kabbalistic supplement compiled in 13th-century Castile, brings Moses explicitly into David's five blessings through the framework of the Sefirot. Moses, in kabbalistic thought, embodies the Middle Pillar, the channel of balance between the forces of the cosmos. The five books he wrote correspond to the five central Sefirot that govern the flow of divine energy through the world. David's five blessings, in this reading, are not merely literary echoes of the structure Moses built. They are activations of it, moments when David's praise moves through the same channels Moses walked, the same vertical structure of blessing that Torah established.

The five blessings do not stand alone. They stand at the end of a long corridor that begins in Moses's first word of Torah and ends in the last word of Hallelujah. David held back the Hallelujah for 103 psalms. He reached it through five blessings that answered five books. He reached it at the moment the world was finally worthy of the word.


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The texts this telling draws on, in full. Open a card to read inline, or expand it for a wider, quieter read.

Vayikra Rabbah 4:7Vayikra Rabbah

The Rabbis certainly did. one fascinating interpretation from Vayikra Rabbah, specifically Vayikra Rabbah 4, that unlocks layers of meaning in King David's timeless words.

Rabbi Yoḥanan and Rabbi Yehoshua ben Levi, two towering figures of the Talmudic era, offer insights into David's repeated call, "Bless the Lord, my soul" (Psalm 103). Rabbi Yoḥanan sees a direct link to the very structure of the Torah itself. He suggests that David's five-fold blessing mirrors the five books of Moses, the Chumash, the foundation of Jewish law and narrative. A beautiful and elegant thought. But Rabbi Yehoshua ben Levi takes us in a different, equally compelling direction. He connects the five blessings to "the five worlds that a person sees." What does that mean? Well, the Rabbis unpack it for us, tracing the soul's journey through life.

First, "Bless the Lord, my soul, and all that is within me bless His holy name" (Psalms 103:1). This, they say, refers to when one is safe and sheltered, still located in his mother’s womb. A time of pure potential, utterly dependent on God's unseen care.

Then comes, "Bless the Lord, my soul, and do not forget all His acts of kindness" (Psalms 103:2). This is when we emerge into the world. Imagine that moment, the transition from the inner world to the outer, the first breath, the first sensation. The soul is urged: Remember the kindness that brought you here!

Next, "[Bless the Lord, all of His works, in all places of His dominion.] Bless the Lord, my soul" (Psalms 103:22). This stage represents adulthood, when we reach our full stature and engage in the world, in commerce, in all the complexities of life. We're active participants now, not just recipients.

Then, "Bless the Lord, my soul. Lord my God, You are greatly exalted" (Psalms 104:1). This, poignantly, is linked to the moment a person passes from the world. A moment of reflection, of awe, of recognizing God's greatness as we transition once more.

And finally, looking to the future, "May sinners be eradicated from the earth, and may the wicked be no more. Bless the Lord, my soul. Halleluya" (Psalms 104:35). This verse speaks to the ultimate triumph of good, the eradication of wickedness, and the final redemption. Only then can the soul truly sing "Halleluya", praise God!

Rabbi Shmuel bar Naḥman, quoting Rabbi Yoḥanan, adds another layer to this understanding of Psalms. He notes that David recited one hundred and twenty psalms, though some texts say 103, it’s a complex textual issue (Berakhot 9b). And didn't conclude them with Halleluya until he saw the downfall of the wicked. As it says, "May sinners be eradicated from the earth…[Halleluya]." It’s a powerful reminder that praise is most complete when justice prevails.

What does this all mean for us? Perhaps it's an invitation to see our lives as a series of interconnected "worlds," each with its own challenges and blessings. To remember, in every stage, to bless the Lord, our souls. And to strive for a future where Halleluya can be sung without reservation, a future free from wickedness and filled with praise.

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Midrash Tehillim 103:2Midrash Tehillim

Midrash, the art of interpreting scripture through storytelling, gives us some fascinating ways to ponder that very question. to a passage from Midrash Tehillim, a collection of midrashic interpretations on the Book of Psalms, specifically Psalm 103.

The Midrash begins with a powerful analogy. Rabbi Levi, citing Rabbi Huna, contrasts a human painter with the Holy One, blessed be He. A painter creates an image, but when the painter dies, the creation remains. But God? God created us. We die, but God remains, alive and eternal. It's a simple comparison, but it hits hard.

It doesn't stop there. The painter's image is limited, says the Midrash. It can only start from the head or the foot. God, however, is the creator of everything. As the prophet Jeremiah (10:16) reminds us, "He is the Creator of everything." The Midrash emphasizes that God can do what the painter cannot.

Then comes another angle: we, as humans, eat, but our form, our essence, doesn't. But God is different. God doesn't eat, and God's essence remains untouched. As we read in Nehemiah (9:6), "You alone are the Lord; You have made heaven, the heaven of heavens, with all their host, the earth, and all that is on it, the seas and all that are in them. You give life to all of them." God is the source of all life, the sustainer of all things.

And perhaps most profoundly, a human painter cannot create a soul. They can't create what's within. But God did. God created us with both body and soul, with inner depths and complexities.

So, what’s the Psalmist's response to all this? "Bless my soul, O Lord!" In fact, this phrase appears five times in the psalm. Rabbi Yehoshua ben Levi, in the Midrash, connects these five blessings to the five books of the Torah. Each blessing, each utterance of "Bless my soul, O Lord," echoes the entirety of God's law and teachings. They are: "Bless my soul, O Lord, and all that is within me." "Bless my soul, O Lord, and do not forget all His benefits." "In all places of His dominion, bless my soul, O Lord." "Bless my soul, O Lord, O Lord my God, You are very great." "Let sinners be consumed out of the earth, and let the wicked be no more. Bless my soul, O Lord. Hallelujah."

Rabbi Yochanan offers another interpretation: these five blessings correspond to five "worlds" that a person experiences. The first is when we’re in the womb: "Bless my soul, O Lord, and all that is within me." Then, there's birth: "Bless my soul, O Lord, and do not forget all His benefits." Rabbi Abbahu explains that these benefits refer to being granted judgment in a place of understanding. Rav elaborates, saying it's so we don't look at nakedness. Rav Matnah adds, so we don't suckle from the place of the womb. These are all ways of understanding the separation and development that comes with being born into the world.

Next comes our life in the world, moving "here and there," as the psalm puts it: "In all His places of dominion, bless the Lord, my soul." Then, there’s the moment of death, when we "see the Divine Presence": "Bless the Lord, my soul, the Lord my God, You are exceedingly great." Finally, there’s the future, when "sins will be eradicated from the earth." This is why, the Midrash concludes, we bless the Lord, we say "Bless the Lord, my soul."

What does this all mean? It’s an invitation to recognize God's infinite power and presence in every aspect of our existence – from the grand sweep of creation to the most intimate moments of our lives. The Midrash reminds us that God is not just a creator, but a constant presence, a source of life, and a promise of a future where good triumphs. So, take a moment. Reflect on the blessings in your life, and perhaps, whisper a "Bless my soul, O Lord" of your own.

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Berachot 9bHebraic Literature (1901)

The Talmud counts carefully. King David composed one hundred and three psalms, and only after the hundred and third did he allow himself to utter the word Hallelujah. What made him hold back so long?

The answer comes in the verse where the word finally appears. "Let sinners be consumed out of the earth, and let the wicked be no more. Bless the Lord, O my soul, Hallelujah" (Psalms 104:35). David did not let his lips shape that full cry of praise until he had seen, in prophetic vision, the end of wickedness itself. Praise, in his mouth, was not a decoration. It was a judgment on the history of evil.

A listener may notice that the running total should be one hundred and four, not one hundred and three. The sages explain the missing psalm by pointing out that Psalm 1, "Blessed is the man," and Psalm 2, "Why do the nations rage," are counted as a single psalm. They form one continuous thought, and the tradition numbers them as one (Berachot 9b).

The lesson the sages draw from David's restraint is simple. A person may praise God often, but the fullest Hallelujah waits for the moment when the victory of goodness comes into view.

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Tikkunei Zohar 56:1Tikkunei Zohar

Jewish mysticism, particularly the Kabbalah, suggests that there are hidden keys, waiting to be discovered within sacred texts. to a passage from the Tikkunei (spiritual repair) Zohar, specifically Tikkun 56. The Tikkunei Zohar, a later and more esoteric part of the Zohar, is all about fixing or "repairing" (that's the meaning of tikkun) the cosmos through understanding its secrets. This passage focuses on Moses, a figure central to Judaism, and how he embodies the "Middle Pillar."

What's the "Middle Pillar?" In Kabbalistic thought, it's a balanced path, a way to navigate between opposing forces. The text references (Isaiah 63:12), saying God "leads to the right of Moses, the arm of His glory." This "arm of glory" is associated with Tiferet, which is often translated as beauty, harmony, or splendor – a core Sefirah (a divine emanation). The text goes on to say that God “splits” the waters of Torah, towards the seed of Abraham, who is the right-hand side, to be for him… an eternal Name.

The passage connects Moses to the letter Hei (△), the fifth letter of the Hebrew alphabet. This letter is associated with the five books of the Torah, the Chumash or Pentateuch. The Tikkunei Zohar suggests that Moses is "bound" to this Hei, and through it, the name of Moses – MoSheH in Hebrew – is perfected. The very name of Moses, the leader, the lawgiver, is itself a work in progress, completed through connection to the Torah.

What happens when his name is perfected? "The right-hand is revealed upon him." This points back to the verse from Isaiah (53:1): "...and the arm of Y”Y, upon whom has it been revealed?" Y”Y is a way of referring to the divine name without writing it out fully.

So, what does it all mean?

The passage suggests a profound connection between Moses, the Torah, and divine revelation. Moses isn't just a historical figure; he's a conduit, a symbol of balance and connection. He embodies the Middle Pillar, and through his connection to the Torah (represented by the letter Hei), he achieves a state of perfection that allows him to receive divine revelation. The right hand, a symbol of power and blessing, is revealed upon him.

It's a reminder that our own understanding, our own "names," so to speak, are also works in progress. We, too, can strive for that balance, that connection to something greater, to reveal the divine within ourselves. The Kabbalah invites us into a world of hidden connections, where the very letters of sacred texts hold the keys to deeper understanding. Are we ready to unlock them?

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