Psalm 22, a deeply personal and powerful lament, starts with that very cry. "My God, my God, why have you forsaken me?" This isn't just a one-time outburst. Midrash Tehillim, a collection of rabbinic interpretations on the Book of Psalms, emphasizes the repetition. The speaker cries out "My God" on the first day, and then again on the second. Only on the third day does the agonizing question burst forth: "Why have you abandoned me?"
Why the repetition? What's the significance? Perhaps it's the agonizing process of grief, the desperate clinging to faith before the full weight of despair crashes down.
But then, the psalm shifts. It finds a glimmer of hope, a reason to believe. "He will save him because He delights in him" (Psalm 22:9). This verse sparks a beautiful exploration of divine love within the Midrash, a love expressed in multiple ways.
Rabbi Shimon ben Lakish, a prominent figure in the Talmud, suggests that God expresses His love for Israel in three distinct ways: through cleaving, desiring, and wanting. Cleaving – the act of sticking close, of being inseparable. Desiring – a deep longing, a heartfelt yearning. And wanting – a fundamental need, a recognition of inherent value.
He finds prooftexts for each of these. For cleaving, he cites Deuteronomy 4:4: "But you who cleave to the Lord your God are alive…" For desiring, Deuteronomy 7:7: "...did the Lord desire you…" And for wanting, Isaiah 62:4: "...for the Lord wants you…"
But here's where the Midrash takes an unexpected turn. To illustrate these concepts, Rabbi Shimon ben Lakish turns to a rather…unlikely source: the story of Dinah in Genesis 34. It's the story of Shechem, son of Hamor, who falls for Jacob's daughter Dinah.
"And Dinah went out…" (Genesis 34:1). The Midrash points to the verses describing Shechem's feelings: "And his soul cleaved to Dinah…" (Genesis 34:3). "My son Shechem his soul desires your daughter" (Genesis 34:8). "...because he wanted Jacob's daughter…" (Genesis 34:19).
It's a jarring comparison, isn't it? To use the story of a morally ambiguous, even problematic, relationship to illustrate the pure love of God. But perhaps that’s the point. Even in flawed human interactions, we can find echoes, however distorted, of the divine attributes.
Rabbi Aba bar Elisha adds two more expressions of divine love to the list: love itself, and speaking to the heart. He cites Malachi 1:2: "I loved you, said the Lord…" And Isaiah 40:2: "Speak to the heart of Jerusalem…"
And, mirroring Rabbi Shimon ben Lakish's approach, he finds these reflected in the story of Shechem as well: "...he loved the girl and spoke to the girl's heart" (Genesis 34:3).
So, what does this all mean? Midrash Tehillim, through this interpretation of Psalm 22, reminds us that even in our darkest moments, when we feel most abandoned, God's love persists. It's a love expressed in multiple ways – a cleaving, a desiring, a wanting, a love spoken and unspoken. And even in the most unexpected places, in the stories of flawed human beings, we can find glimpses of that divine love, reminding us that we are never truly alone.