Our ancestors grappled with this too. And Midrash Tehillim, a collection of rabbinic interpretations on the Book of Psalms, offers some fascinating perspectives on why, and what we can do about it.
Imagine a baby, just a year old, toddling through the Ark with Noah. Snakes slithering everywhere, right? Terrifying! But, according to Midrash Tehillim, this infant could walk right over those snakes, and even snails and clams, unharmed. It’s a powerful image of inherent protection, connected to the verse, "Upon the snail and the clam you shall tread, for in Me there is desire." It suggests a state of grace, of being shielded by a divine presence.
So why don't we experience that same level of protection? Why aren't our prayers instantly answered?
Rabbi Yehoshua ben Levi, quoting Rabbi Pinchas ben Yair, offers a compelling reason: We don't know the Shem HaMeforash, the "explicit Name" of God. Think of it like a secret code, the ultimate password to unlock divine communication. We find this idea echoed throughout Jewish mystical thought. The Zohar, a foundational text of Kabbalah, often hints at the power and mystery surrounding God's true name.
The Midrash continues, promising a future time when God will reveal this Name. “Therefore, My people shall know My Name.” And when that happens? Instant connection. Instant answers. "He will call upon Me and I will answer him." That’s the promise. A direct line to the divine.
Rabbi Yitzhak, in the name of Rabbi Acha, reinforces this idea, reminding us that even now, in times of trouble, if we seek God, we will be answered. So, maybe it’s not about having the secret password all the time, but about the sincerity of our seeking, especially when things get tough.
But here's where it gets really interesting. Asaph, a figure associated with music and prophecy in the Bible, tells Israel: "Whoever saves you, honor him in prayer, for he saves you from distress and gives you honor ('he will bring you out and bring you honor'). Rescue him and honor him." It's a call to recognize and appreciate those who help us, to acknowledge the blessings we receive through others.
And then comes this profound statement: "This is one of the difficult verses regarding the salvation of Israel, for their salvation is the salvation of the Holy One, blessed be He."
Pause for a moment. What does that mean? It suggests a deep, intertwined relationship between our fate and God's. Our struggles are, in a way, God's struggles. Our salvation, God's salvation. It's a mind-bending concept, isn’t it? That our well-being is somehow connected to the divine well-being.
Maybe the unanswered prayers aren't about a lack of divine attention, but about a call to action. A call to seek, to connect, to recognize the divine spark within ourselves and within each other. Maybe it’s about understanding that our salvation, and God's, are inextricably linked. And maybe, just maybe, that's the closest we can get to understanding the "explicit Name" in this world.