It’s a question humanity has grappled with for millennia. Midrash Tehillim, a collection of rabbinic interpretations of the Book of Psalms, tackles this very question head-on in its eleventh section. And the answer, as presented there, is… fiery.

The passage begins with a stark image: "Rain upon the wicked coals and brimstone; and a burning wind shall be the portion of their cup." Ouch. It's intense imagery, right? It immediately brings to mind concepts of divine retribution. But what does it actually mean?

The Midrash doesn’t leave us hanging. It connects this fiery end to the proverb: "As charcoal is to embers and wood to fire, so is a contentious person to kindling strife" (Proverbs 26:21). The idea is that those who sow discord and elevate themselves will ultimately face a fiery judgment. The Holy One, blessed be He, said, "Whoever exalts himself will ultimately be judged with fire."

But it's not just abstract theory. The text then marches through a veritable rogues' gallery of historical figures and generations who, according to Jewish tradition, met this fiery fate. Think of it as a cautionary tale, repeated throughout history.

First up, the generation of the Flood. As it is written (Job 6:17), "When they are hot, they vanish; when it is hot, they are consumed out of their place." Then came the builders of the Tower of Babel, scattered to the winds, their project abandoned (Genesis 11:8). And who could forget the infamous people of Sodom and Gomorrah, rained upon with "brimstone and fire" (Genesis 19:24)?

The list goes on. Pharaoh, struck with hail and fire (Exodus 9:24). Sennacherib, consumed by fire (Isaiah 10:16). Nebuchadnezzar, whose fiery furnace backfired on his own men (Daniel 3:22). Even figures like Sisera, who, according to Judges 5:20, faced cosmic opposition: "They fought from heaven; the stars in their courses fought against Sisera."

The prophet Daniel (7:11) foretells a similar fate for Edom: "I beheld even till the beast was slain, and his body destroyed, and given to the burning flame." And Ezekiel (38:22) predicts a fiery end for Gog and Magog: "And I will rain upon him, and upon his bands, and upon the many people that are with him, an overflowing rain, and great hailstones, fire, and brimstone." The message is clear: arrogance and wickedness, in the end, are fuel for the fire.

The Midrash emphasizes that no one is exempt: "For by fire and by his sword will the Lord plead with all flesh: and the slain of the Lord shall be many" (Isaiah 66:16).

Interestingly, fire isn’t always about punishment. Rabbi Yudan points out that "When a person smells sulfur, his soul trembles because it knows that it will eventually have to endure it..." but it also hints at purification.

The text concludes with a powerful image: "There are four cups of retribution for the nations of the world, and four cups of salvation for Israel." A balanced perspective, perhaps. Judgment exists, yes, but so does redemption. There are consequences, yes, but also hope.

So, what are we to make of all this fire and brimstone? Is it a literal prediction of the end times? Or a metaphorical warning about the consequences of our actions? Perhaps it's both. Maybe the point isn't to fear the fire, but to learn from the stories of those who were consumed by it. To strive for humility, justice, and compassion, so that we don't end up adding fuel to the flames.