Psalm 80, a cry from the heart of ancient Israel, echoes that very feeling. But what does it truly mean to ask God to "restore us" and "let your face shine upon us?" to a fascinating interpretation from Midrash Tehillim, a collection of rabbinic commentaries on the Book of Psalms.
The Psalm begins with a plea: "God of Hosts, please turn your gaze from heaven and see, and tend to this vine and protect the one you have planted with your right hand." It’s a powerful image, isn't it? A vine, representing Israel, planted by God, needing care and protection.
Rabbi Nachman, citing Rabbi Yaakov Dexarin, draws a parallel to God's promise to Abraham. Remember when God told Abraham (Genesis 18:10), "I will surely return to you"? The Midrash sees a connection: just as God visited Abraham, so too, we ask God to "look down from heaven and see" (Psalm 80:15) and "tend to" (Genesis 21:1) us, just as "The Lord visited Sarah." It's a reminder of God's enduring promise and commitment.
But then comes a rather cryptic line: "Burned by fire like thorns." What does that mean? Here, the rabbis diverge. Rabbi Shila and others debated the interpretation. One opinion suggests that the vine is "burned like thorns." The other, perhaps more subtly, argues that the text doesn’t say "thorns," but "like a thornbush" – implying something compacted, compressed, interchangeable. The point? Even in moments of suffering, there's potential for transformation and resilience, like a tightly woven thornbush that can withstand harsh conditions.
The Midrash continues with the plea, "And protect the one you have chosen with your right hand. May your hand be a shield for the man at your right hand" (Psalm 80:18). Rabbi Yitzchak offers a compelling interpretation: "May your hand be available to punish the wicked deed, the oath that you swore to him with your right hand." This alludes back to Genesis 26:39, where it's said, "Your dwelling shall be away from the fatness of the earth." It's a reminder that even in punishment, there's a connection to the divine promise, a call to return to the right path.
Furthermore, the Midrash adds, "May the son of Amittai not be forsaken by you, as it says (1 Samuel 12:22), 'The Lord will not cast off his people.'" Amittai was the father of the prophet Jonah. This is an assurance that even when we stray, God's covenant endures; we are not abandoned.
Finally, the Psalm culminates in a desperate cry: "God of Hosts, restore us; let your face shine upon us, that we may be saved." Rabbi Yochanan encapsulates the essence of this plea: "We have nothing but the radiance of your face to save us." It's a profound statement of faith, acknowledging our utter dependence on God's grace and presence. The "radiance of your face" isn't just about physical light; it represents divine favor, guidance, and ultimately, salvation.
So, what does this Midrash teach us? It's more than just an interpretation of a Psalm; it's a reminder of God's enduring covenant, even in the face of suffering and hardship. It's about recognizing our dependence on the divine, and yearning for the "radiance of [God's] face" to guide us back to the path of righteousness. And it's a call to remember that even when we feel like a vine burned by thorns, there is always the potential for renewal and restoration. Perhaps, in our own moments of darkness, we too can find solace and strength in this ancient prayer.