We humans have always been drawn to the sea, mesmerized by its vastness and power. But what if it’s not just the crash of waves we're hearing? What if there's a deeper conversation happening, a dialogue with the Divine?
Midrash Tehillim, an ancient collection of interpretations on the Book of Psalms, delves into just that question when it reflects on Psalm 93:3, "The floods have lifted up, O Lord, the floods have lifted up their voice; the floods lift up their roaring."
There’s a fascinating story about the Roman Emperor Hadrian. This wasn’t just any casual beach trip, mind you. Hadrian, in all his imperial ambition, wanted to reach the very edge of the ocean. So, as the Midrash recounts, he had himself dragged by ropes for three whole years! Finally, he heard a voice proclaiming, "End, Hadrian." Intrigued, he wondered: what exactly were the waters murmuring to God?
Now, this is where it gets interesting. Hadrian, not one to shy away from experimentation (albeit of a rather cruel kind), had glass boxes constructed. He placed people inside them and tossed them into the ocean. The people, bobbing along in their glass prisons, eventually resurfaced and reported: "We heard the ocean murmuring great things in the heights."
What were these "great things"? The Midrash doesn’t spell it out, leaving us to ponder the mysteries of the deep.
But the interpretations don't stop there. The text shifts, suggesting the "rivers" have also lifted their voices to God. Here, the Midrash takes a turn towards social justice. It cries, "Woe to the wicked who think that the Land of Israel belongs only to themselves and not to others!" The rivers, it explains, refer to the waves, echoing the prophecy in Isaiah 17:12, "Woe to the many peoples." These waves, these "rivers," symbolize the forces that will beat down and oppress Israel in times of trouble. But take heart, the Midrash continues: even the oppressors will eventually face oppression themselves. "Woe to the many rivers that beat down."
The Midrash then draws a parallel between the upper and lower waters. "Many waters" can refer to both. It's like a king with two regiments. When he visits one, they feel special, saying, "This regiment is great because the king visited it!" The other regiment feels the same when it's their turn. Similarly, when God is "above," the upper waters are called "many waters." And when God "descends below," the lower waters also earn the title "many waters," as Psalm 93:4 states, "The waters were exceedingly strong."
What's the key takeaway here? Perhaps it’s about perspective. God's presence isn't confined to one realm or another. Whether it's the celestial waters or the earthly seas, both reflect the Divine. And both, it seems, have a voice, a story, a prayer to offer. Maybe we just need to listen a little closer. Maybe we, like Hadrian, need to be willing to go to the edge – and beyond – to hear what they're saying.