There's an ancient teaching, found in Midrash Tehillim – a collection of interpretations on the Book of Psalms – that speaks directly to this feeling. It all starts with Psalm 47:1: "To the choirmaster. A Psalm of the sons of Korah. All you peoples, clap your hands."
But why, when things feel so heavy, are we being told to clap?
The Midrash connects this verse to a proverb: "When the righteous are in authority, the people rejoice; but when the wicked rule, the people groan" (Proverbs 29:2). It paints a picture: when wickedness reigns, everyone’s downcast, heads bowed. No one walks tall. King Solomon echoes this sentiment in Proverbs 28:28: "When the wicked rise, men hide themselves; but when they perish, the righteous increase." Have you ever felt the need to shrink, to become invisible, under oppressive leadership?
The Midrash goes on to suggest something truly profound: that God Himself finds it difficult when one person lords over another, especially to cause harm. It’s as if the very structure of creation resists such imbalance. The prophet Isaiah (28:2) describes God's response: "Behold, the Lord has a mighty and strong one, like a tempest of hail and a destroying storm, like a flood of mighty waters overflowing, who will bring them down to the earth with His hand."
"With His hand?" The Midrash asks. What does that mean? It suggests that this "hand" refers to the hand of the human ruler, the one who oppresses his fellow human. The very instrument of oppression will be the cause of downfall.
So, back to the clapping. Why clap our hands "all you peoples"? Because, as Psalm 10:15 urges, "Break the arm of the wicked and evil-doer; seek out his wickedness until you find none."
The Midrash Tehillim suggests that this act of clapping isn't just a celebration of victory after the wicked are overthrown. It's a declaration of hope, a defiant act of faith while they still hold sway. It's a way of saying, "We remember that God is 'high and awesome, a great King over all the earth.'"
It's a reminder that even in the darkest times, we can still choose to lift our heads, to clap our hands, and to believe in the possibility of a world where righteousness prevails. It's a small act, perhaps, but one filled with immense power.