But in Jewish tradition, this idea – the fit between a person and their qualities – is a recurring theme.

Take Psalm 24, "A Psalm of David. The earth and its fullness belong to the Lord." In Midrash Tehillim, a collection of rabbinic teachings on the Book of Psalms, this verse leads into a fascinating discussion about how well people embody the characteristics they possess.

Rabbi Chanina, a sage from the Talmudic period, offers a striking observation. He says, "There are those whose clothing is becoming, but they are not becoming to their clothing. And there are those whose clothing is not becoming, but their clothing is becoming to them." (Midrash Tehillim 24:1). It's a bit cryptic at first, isn't it? What does it really mean?

Well, the Midrash goes on to illustrate this with examples. Think of someone who is wealthy but doesn't act in a way that reflects their wealth. Or someone who is poor, but their spirit and actions belie their circumstances. As Solomon wisely says in Proverbs (13:7), "One man pretends to be rich, yet has nothing; another pretends to be poor, yet has great wealth."

It's not just about wealth, either. The Midrash extends this to strength, weakness, even relationships. Imagine a beautiful woman married to an unattractive man. People might say, "This bride has been lost to this man!" It's a harsh judgment, isn't it? But it highlights the perceived mismatch between the two.

The text then brings in Job, that iconic figure of righteousness and suffering. Job declares, "I am not like that. Rather, I am becoming to righteousness, and righteousness is becoming to me." He embodies righteousness so completely that it's an integral part of his being. As he says, “I clothed myself with righteousness, and it clothed me." (Job 29:14).

And this brings us back to David and his psalms. The Midrash suggests that David is becoming to his psalm, and his psalm is becoming to him. There’s a perfect harmony. And this explains why, when David sought the Divine Presence, he would "demand a psalm from David.” In other words, the very act of reciting a psalm from David would invoke the presence of God. When a psalm came to David from his own accord, it was a true and powerful expression of his connection to the Divine.

So, what’s the takeaway here? Maybe it's about striving for authenticity. About ensuring that our inner qualities – our virtues, our strengths – are reflected in our actions and our outward persona.

It’s about becoming "becoming," if that makes any sense. About striving for that harmony that existed between David and his psalms. When we achieve that, perhaps we too can invoke a little bit of the Divine Presence in our lives. Food for thought, isn't it?