It’s a question that’s been wrestled with for centuries, and the Midrash Tehillim, a collection of rabbinic teachings on the Book of Psalms, offers some truly fascinating, and at times unsettling, perspectives.

The core of this particular midrash, Midrash Tehillim 31, revolves around Psalm 97:7, "All those who serve idols will be ashamed." But it doesn't stop there. The rabbis delve into the very nature of shame, justice, and the ultimate fate of those who chose other gods.

Rabbi Yudan, quoting Rav Nachman, suggests a startling scenario. In the future, the Holy One, blessed be He, will give "real significance" to idolatry, causing it to bow down in acknowledgment. And then, only after this moment of recognition, will it be ashamed of its former worshipers. What a concept! Imagine the idols themselves realizing their error, finally seeing the truth.

Rabbi Pinchas takes it a step further. He envisions the idols actually speaking to their devotees, declaring that they, the worshipers, sought eternal life from those who cannot speak, prioritizing the subsidiary over the primary. Ouch. It’s a powerful image of misplaced faith and ultimate disillusionment.

Rabbi Yochanan reminds us of the theophany at Sinai. Remember when God descended on Mount Sinai? He argues that this event gave strength to the gentiles as well, compelling them to bow down. Rabbi Tachlifa supports this with a verse: "All gods bow down to Him" (Psalm 97:7). The implication? This bowing down is not a future event, but a re-enactment of what happened at Sinai.

Then comes a more sobering perspective. Rabbi Yehuda and Rabbi Nechemia equate the shattering of idols with the shattering of their worshipers, referencing Zechariah 14:12, which describes a horrific plague. The rabbis expand on this, suggesting the idolaters will be burned with light, mirroring the fate of the idols themselves. It's a harsh image, underscoring the consequences of misplaced devotion.

But the midrash doesn't dwell solely on punishment. Rabbi Yehoshua ben Levi, Rabbi Shmuel, and Rabbi Nechemia paint a picture of a future judgment where God judges both Jews and Gentiles. Initially, the Jews are judged favorably, but the yetzer hara (the evil inclination) stirs up discord. The Gentiles demand a reversed judgment, leading to further shame when God ultimately obligates them. The point? Had they remained silent, their shame would have been less severe.

And what about those who call upon false gods? The midrash says they won’t be answered. They made the insignificant significant, and therefore, God will make the significant insignificant for them. If only they had turned to Him first, they would have received a response.

Rabbi Yehoshua ben Levi offers a glimpse of redemption. He envisions God judging and purifying Israel, rewarding the righteous with crimson garments and entry into the Garden of Eden. Even the wicked will eventually find their place there, lest they think repentance would have been futile. Conversely, the righteous are briefly shown Gehenna, so they don't believe their righteousness excluded others from punishment. This is all to show that there is room for everyone. This emphasizes that God's justice is tempered with mercy.

The midrash concludes with a series of seemingly disparate teachings. Rav emphasizes the importance of not finding fault, lest one miss out on the goodness hidden for those who fear God. Rabbi Abdimi from Haifa speaks of 310 worlds prepared for each righteous person. Rabbi Yitzchak ben Tardion mentions God's sixteen-faced sword, perhaps a metaphor for the many facets of divine justice.

Rav Yudan, quoting Rabbi Eliezer bar Avina, states that God revealed the end to Jacob and Daniel, citing Genesis 49:1 and Daniel 12:9. Yet, even with this knowledge, the full revelation remains sealed. Rabbi Abba bar Kahana suggests that Israel's hiding of the Torah in this world will be mirrored by God's hiding of goodness for the righteous in the world to come.

The midrash ends with a fascinating linguistic note from Rabbi Yonatan: "There are three pleasing languages: the Roman language for war, the Greek language for conversation, and the Assyrian language for prayer. Beware of mixing them up." What does this have to do with the fate of idol worshipers? Perhaps it’s a reminder that even in the realm of language, there is a proper order and purpose, just as there is in the realm of faith.

So, what do we take away from all this? The Midrash Tehillim presents a complex and multifaceted view of divine justice, shame, and redemption. It challenges us to consider the consequences of our choices and the ultimate destination of our faith. It is also a reminder that even in the face of judgment, there is always the potential for mercy and a place for everyone in God's ultimate plan. And maybe, just maybe, even the idols themselves will find their way back to the truth.