It’s a question that’s plagued humanity for… well, forever. The Midrash Tehillim, a collection of rabbinic commentaries on the Book of Psalms, wrestles with this very issue. , shall we?
The midrash begins by quoting Job (21:9): "Their homes are safe and free from fear; the rod of God is not on them." It paints a picture of those who seemingly escape the hardships that befall others. They live comfortably, untouched by suffering. None of their desires are satisfied, neither in their eyes nor in their hearts.
But here’s the twist. According to the midrash, God "prepares their paths before them," as Psalm 10:5 says: "His ways are always prosperous; your laws are rejected by him; he sneers at all his enemies." The afflictions that God brings upon Israel, the midrash continues, simply don't touch them. They even "exult over their enemies," flaunting their seemingly untouchable status, again echoing Psalm 10:5. It almost sounds unfair, doesn’t it?
The Midrash Tehillim goes on to say, "In human toil, they are not. And because they are not afflicted, they become strong and produce Chaldeans..." This refers to the Babylonian empire, known for its might and, well, its eventual role in the destruction of the First Temple. The midrash then quotes Habakkuk 1:7: "Their horses are swifter than leopards, fiercer than wolves at dusk. Their cavalry gallops headlong; their horsemen come from afar. They fly like an eagle swooping to devour." This imagery emphasizes their power and ruthlessness, built, seemingly, on a foundation of ease.
The text then gets a little… graphic. "Their eyes come out of the fat that they eat, and they sit under their eyelids, which bulge out from their faces." This is a stark image of excess and indulgence. In contrast, the midrash notes, "For you have learned that the oil of humility and tears deepens a person's eyes." Humility and suffering, it suggests, create a depth of character that prosperity alone can never achieve. Are we seeing a trade-off here?
The sons of Korah lament in Psalm 69:4, "Those who hate me without cause outnumber the hairs of my head; many are my enemies without reason, those who seek to destroy me. I am forced to restore what I did not steal." And David cries out in Psalm 6:8, "Away from me, all you who do evil, for the Lord has heard my weeping." These are voices of the righteous, suffering despite their innocence.
The midrash concludes with a fascinating thought: "They have gone beyond the limits of their hearts. You have given them much more than what they asked for." Some agreed to be a musician, but were made a duke. Some agreed to be a ruler, but became a general. "Therefore, they have gone beyond the limits of their hearts, and so they speak ancient things."
What does that last line mean, "they speak ancient things"? Perhaps it suggests that their unearned power leads them to arrogance, a feeling of superiority that allows them to spout pronouncements as if they were timeless wisdom, when really, they're just empty words born of inflated egos. They overreach because they were given too much, too easily.
So, what’s the takeaway? The Midrash Tehillim doesn't offer a simple answer to the problem of the wicked prospering. But it does offer a perspective. Perhaps their apparent success is a test, a means for God to elevate those who remain humble and righteous in the face of injustice. Maybe true wealth isn’t measured in material possessions, but in the depth of character forged through adversity. Maybe, just maybe, the bulging eyes of excess are a far less enviable sight than the tear-filled eyes of the truly compassionate.