You're not alone. It seems to be a deeply human thing, this turning to the Divine in moments of crisis. But is that… okay? Is it somehow "less than" if we only remember to call out to God when we're in trouble?
The ancient rabbis grappled with this question too. They found themselves returning to it again and again in their interpretations of scripture. One fascinating example appears in Midrash Tehillim, a collection of rabbinic commentaries on the Book of Psalms.
The 63rd Psalm, "A Psalm of David, when he was in the wilderness of Judah," becomes a springboard for exploring this very idea. The midrash, or interpretation, immediately connects this psalm to a verse from Isaiah (26:16): "Lord, in trouble have they visited thee, they poured out a prayer when thy chastening was upon them."
The implication is clear: When are the Israelites most likely to seek God? When they're in distress.
The midrash then strings together a series of verses from Psalms, each echoing this theme. Remember when David fled from his own son, Absalom? Psalm 3:1 cries out, "A Psalm of David, when he fled from Absalom his son." Or Psalm 142:1, "A prayer of David, when he was in the cave." And then there's Psalm 54:1, "A Psalm of David, when the Ziphims came and said to Saul, Doth not David hide himself with us?" Talk about a stressful situation!
And it doesn't stop there. Psalm 57:1, a Michtam (a poetic term, possibly indicating a precious or golden psalm) of David, recalls when he fled from Saul in the cave. The repetition drives the point home: David, a man after God’s own heart, often turned to prayer during times of intense pressure.
As we find in Psalm 18:7, "In my distress, I called upon the Lord, and cried unto my God: he heard my voice out of his temple, and my cry came before him, even into his ears." This verse emphasizes not only the act of calling out but also the assurance of being heard. It’s a powerful image: a cry rising from the depths of despair, reaching all the way to the Divine ear.
And again, in Psalm 118:5, "I called upon the Lord in distress: the Lord answered me, and set me in a large place." The midrash highlights the promise of deliverance. It's not just about seeking comfort; it's about finding liberation.
So, what does it all mean? Is it a condemnation of only praying in times of need? Perhaps not. Instead, maybe it’s an acknowledgement of our human frailty. Maybe it’s a gentle reminder that even in our most desperate moments, the Divine is there, waiting to be called upon. And maybe, just maybe, those moments of crisis can be a gateway to a deeper, more consistent connection with the Divine. Because even in the wilderness of our own lives, in our own "wilderness of Judah," there is always the possibility of prayer, of connection, of finding that "large place."