The ancient rabbis grappled with this too. They felt it on a national level, in their relationship with God. And they didn't shy away from the tough questions. They wrestled with them in their stories and interpretations – in the midrash.
And one particular midrash, Midrash Tehillim 60, found in Midrash Tehillim (a collection of homiletic interpretations on the Book of Psalms), tackles this head-on. It begins with a raw, almost desperate plea: "God, you have abandoned us, you have broken us, please return to us with mercy." It's a cry from the heart, a recognition of distance and a longing for reconciliation.
But what does God say back? It's not a simple reassurance. It’s a mirror.
"I have abandoned you," the Lord responds, "and you have abandoned me." Ouch. That’s not what you want to hear, is it? The midrash even pulls in a verse from Hosea (8:3) to drive the point home: "Israel has been rejected."
It's a tough love kind of moment. A recognition that relationships – even the one between God and the Jewish people – are a two-way street.
But the story doesn’t end there. Because even in that stark acknowledgment of mutual abandonment, there's still a glimmer of hope. God continues, "Even so, return to me."
Isn't that powerful?
It's an invitation, a challenge, a possibility. It suggests that even after breaking, after separation, teshuvah – return, repentance, reconciliation – is always possible.
The midrash then brings in Isaiah (12:1): "I will praise you, Lord, although you were angry with me. Your anger has turned away, and you have comforted me." This verse paints a picture of a cycle: anger, distance, but ultimately, comfort and reconciliation. The anger isn’t the final word.
And that’s why, the midrash concludes, we can say, "Return to us."
The story takes an interesting turn here. The midrash then speaks of Moab, an ancient enemy of Israel. It says that when God spoke these words – the words of abandonment and the call to return – Moab trembled. It was on the verge of being destroyed.
And then, a plea on Moab's behalf: "Heal her wounds, for she has rebelled against you."
Why Moab? Why this sudden shift?
Perhaps the midrash is teaching us something profound about the nature of mercy. Maybe it's saying that even those who have actively rebelled, even our enemies, are deserving of healing and a chance to return. Maybe it’s suggesting that the capacity for teshuvah exists within everyone, not just the chosen.
This little midrash on Psalm 60 is far more than just an ancient text. It’s a mirror reflecting our own struggles with connection, with forgiveness, and with the courage to turn back, even when we feel lost or broken. It’s a reminder that even in moments of abandonment, the possibility of return always exists. It's an invitation to examine our own relationships, both with the Divine and with each other, and to ask ourselves: What does it truly mean to return?