This feeling, this sense of divine distance, is at the heart of Midrash Tehillim 10, a powerful exploration of our relationship with the Divine.

The midrash, a form of Jewish biblical interpretation aiming to fill in gaps in the text, starts with a question: "Why does the Lord stand afar off?" It's a question born of pain, of perceived abandonment. The text then quotes Zechariah 7:13, "And it came to pass, that as he cried, and they would not hear." This verse sets the stage for a profound reflection on hearing and being heard, seeking and being sought.

Rabbi Yochanan paints a striking image. He says that the Shekhinah, the Divine Presence, stood on the Mount of Olives for three and a half years, crying out, "I am sought of them that asked not for Me; I am found of them that sought Me not," quoting Isaiah 65:2. But nobody listened. It's a heartbreaking picture, isn't it? God reaching out, offering connection, and being ignored. Isaiah 66:4 follows this up: "I also will choose their delusions, and will bring their fears upon them."

Rabbi Chanina then offers a parable, a story to illuminate the situation. Imagine a caravan traveling at night. The captain warns them to seek shelter in an inn, fearing wild animals and robbers. But the travelers, stubborn and perhaps a little arrogant, refuse. "It is not the custom of caravans to enter into inns," they say, even though darkness is falling. Inevitably, disaster strikes. They are attacked by robbers. Desperate, they return to the inn and beg for entry. But the innkeeper refuses. "It is not the custom of inns to open their doors at night, nor to receive guests at that time," he retorts. He reminds them: "When I wanted to let you in, you refused, and now that you want to enter, I cannot let you in."

Ouch.

The parable is a powerful analogy for our relationship with God. As Isaiah 55:6 urges, "Seek the Lord while He may be found, call upon Him while He is near." But what happens when we ignore that call? When we are handed over to hardship, to the "Gentiles," do we then have a right to cry out, "Why does the Lord stand afar off?" The midrash suggests a difficult truth: "When I sought you, you did not seek Me. Now that you seek Me, I do not listen to you." It’s measure for measure, a consequence of our own choices.

This echoes the verse from Zechariah: "And it came to pass, that as he cried, and they would not hear." There's a chilling sense of cause and effect here, a warning about the dangers of ignoring the Divine Presence in our lives.

The midrash ends with a chilling question: "Perhaps this will be the case forever, God forbid, until the end of all ages and even beyond...." It’s a stark reminder that our relationship with the Divine is not a one-way street. It requires effort, attention, and a willingness to seek even when we don't feel the need. It challenges us to ask ourselves: Are we listening? Are we seeking? Or are we waiting until it's too late, only to wonder why the Lord stands afar off?