Specifically, we're looking at Midrash Tehillim 42. It's a plea, a challenge, almost a demand, directed at God.
The speaker in this Midrash begins by contrasting themselves with the Israelites in Egypt. "Those who were in Egypt only did one commandment and left," they say. Tradition holds that the Israelites were redeemed from Egypt because they kept the commandment to observe the blood on the doorposts during the plague of the firstborn. But the speaker continues, "As for me, all the commandments that I was commanded, I do, even those that I have forgotten!" Imagine the dedication! The speaker is not only performing the mitzvot, the commandments, but they are striving to remember and fulfill even the ones they might have overlooked.
They go on to list their observances: "I observe the new moon," – Rosh Chodesh, the start of the new lunar month – "and celebrate the holiday of Shavuot…" And then comes a pointed question: "What is the (sacrifice) for the seventh month? Is there no seventh month other than this?" What’s the significance of the seventh month, Tishrei? It’s packed with holy days: Rosh Hashanah, Yom Kippur, Sukkot! The speaker is emphasizing their consistent devotion throughout the entire year.
Then comes the heart of the plea. "But you say to me every year that whoever comes, I will redeem. Come and redeem me." It's a direct appeal based on God's own promise. "I say to God, my rock, why have you forgotten me?" It’s raw, honest, and deeply human.
The speaker then reminds God, "Yet, you have written about me, for you are my God, my fortress." Even in this moment of questioning, there’s an underlying faith, a recognition of God's power and protection. "Until you redeemed our ancestors from Egypt, they did not give you strength," the speaker argues, invoking the idea that God’s power is amplified by the faith and actions of the people. "I will not do so until you redeem me."
Wow.
The passage then weaves in verses from other parts of the Hebrew Bible, the Tanakh, to bolster its argument. "For you are my God, my strength, and my fortress." Sound familiar? It echoes the words of Jeremiah (16:19): "The Lord is my strength and my fortress." And then a poignant question: "Why do you walk in darkness?" Why is God seemingly absent in their time of need? "Redeem me as you redeemed our ancestors from the oppression they were under." This plea is supported by referencing Exodus 3:9: "I have surely seen the oppression." The speaker exclaims, "I have nothing but oppression. Why do you walk in darkness?"
The Midrash continues, "Did you not send them redemption, as it says (Psalm 105:26): 'Moses, His servant, He sent'?" And then, it adds, "He sent two against them, as it says (Isaiah 43:10): 'Behold, My servant, whom I uphold.'" Here, the Midrash makes a fascinating connection, suggesting that redemption often comes through multiple agents. It then references Malachi 3:23: "Behold, I will send you Elijah the prophet." And then Isaiah 42:1, "'Behold, My servant whom I support.'" These verses point towards future redemption, and the hope for divine intervention. "Therefore, it is said, 'He will bring me to the holy mountain, and I will come to the altar of God.'"
The Midrash concludes with a note of humility. "What do I have to offer except thanksgiving?" Even in the midst of demanding redemption, the speaker recognizes the importance of gratitude. Referencing Psalm 79:13, they state: "But we are Your people, and the sheep of Your pasture."
So, what can we take away from this ancient text? It’s a reminder that faith isn't always easy. It's okay to question, to plead, even to challenge God. The speaker in this Midrash embodies that struggle, that tension between unwavering belief and the very human desire for relief from suffering. It also reminds us that even when we feel forgotten, we can still offer our gratitude, our continued devotion, and our unwavering hope for redemption. And that maybe, just maybe, that's enough.