The verse we're looking at is "Let a thousand fall from your side." Now, what does that even mean? Rabbi Yitzhak offers a compelling idea: He connects this verse to the mitzvah (commandment) of wearing tefillin. You know, those small leather boxes containing scriptural passages that observant Jews bind to their arm and head during prayer? He says that the hand that binds the tefillin on the arm – specifically the left arm, closest to the heart – is granted a thousand angels!
But wait, it gets better. What about the right hand, which is involved in so many other mitzvot, so many other good deeds? Rabbi Yitzhak suggests that the right hand is granted not just a thousand, but a myriad of angels! That’s a LOT of divine protection.
Rabbi Chanina bar Abba takes this idea even further. He points out that the verse doesn't say the angels are "given," but rather that they "fall." His interpretation? If a thousand destructive forces come against the left hand, they fall before it, defeated! And if a myriad attack the right hand, they too are vanquished because of all the good deeds it performs. It's like having an impenetrable shield built from your actions. this way: In ancient times, if someone was entrusted with feeding a thousand people, those people would, in turn, protect and benefit their benefactor. But here, God entrusts us with angelic protection – a thousand on the left, a myriad on the right. And yet, the midrash asks, sometimes we still feel unsupported. But, the text assures us, ultimately, "it will not approach you. Only in Your eyes will he look, for You, God, are his refuge."
It is a fascinating way of saying that even with all of this divine defense, our faith and our gaze should remain fixed on God.
Rabbi Chanina offers another beautiful image: "My soul is from the blue [sky] and my eyes from the green [grass]." He connects this to the giving of the Torah, saying that the lower world (earth) receives the Torah, while the upper world (heaven) rejoices in God's dwelling place. And the promise? "No harm will come near you."
Rabbi Yochanan brings the Mishkan, the portable sanctuary used by the Israelites in the wilderness, into the picture. He says that before the Mishkan was established, destructive forces could harm people. But once it was built, "no harm came near your tent." The Mishkan, in this view, acted as a powerful shield against negativity.
Reish Lakish offers a different perspective, drawing from the priestly blessing in Numbers (Bamidbar) 6:24: "May God bless you and keep you." He connects this blessing to the establishment of the Mishkan as well. The blessing, he says, protects us "from all evil." When does this protection become especially potent? On the day the Mishkan was established! Reish Lakish sees this idea reflected in the Psalms as well, suggesting that the Psalms themselves offer protection from destructive forces, particularly in the context of the Mishkan’s completion.
So, what does all of this mean for us today? Maybe it's a reminder that even when we feel vulnerable, we are surrounded by unseen forces of protection, generated by our good deeds, our faith, and the sacred spaces – both physical and spiritual – that we create in our lives. Maybe it’s a call to action, encouraging us to engage in more mitzvot, knowing that each act strengthens our connection to the divine and adds another layer of protection.
Or maybe, just maybe, it's a comforting thought to carry with us: that we each have a legion of angels, ready to stand between us and the darkness.