Psalm 94:1 cries out, "God of vengeance, shine forth!" And in Midrash Tehillim, the collection of rabbinic teachings on the Book of Psalms, this verse opens a fascinating door into understanding suffering, divine justice, and the very nature of God's relationship with us.
Isaiah, in chapter 45, verse 14, echoes this sentiment, prophesying that even the mightiest nations will eventually recognize God's presence among the Jewish people: "Surely God is with you, and there is none else; there is no other god." But what does "there is none else" truly mean? It's not just about denying other deities. The text suggests God is saying, "Your strength, your hidden power, will be revealed." We have untapped potential within us, waiting to be unleashed, especially in times of adversity.
The Midrash then dives into Psalm 94:22, which speaks of God as our stronghold. But what kind of stronghold are we talking about?
Rabbi offers one interpretation: flesh and blood might conquer a city's walls, but God conquers the army itself. Divine power surpasses even the most formidable physical force. This reminds us of the verse in Nahum 1:2, "The Lord is a jealous God and avenging, the Lord avenges and He is full of wrath."
Rabbi Yonatan, however, offers a different, more internalized perspective. He suggests that the "wall" represents envy – that insidious feeling that can conquer a person from within. But even envy, he says, is ultimately conquered by God. Again, Nahum 1:2 is invoked: "God is jealous and avenging." It’s a powerful reminder that even our inner demons are not beyond redemption.
But then, the Midrash takes an unexpected turn. It wrestles with the age-old question: why do bad things happen to good people? Is suffering random, or is there a purpose to it?
Rabbi Meir, citing Deuteronomy 8:5, offers a comforting, if challenging, thought: "Just as I disciplined you, so will I also do good to you and bestow My favor upon you." God knows our actions, and even the suffering we endure isn't arbitrary punishment. It's for our ultimate benefit. Hard to swallow sometimes, isn't it?
Rabbi Shimon goes even further, declaring that "Sufferings are beloved!" Why? Because, he argues, they are the conduit through which we receive the three most precious gifts given to Israel: the Torah (the teachings), the World to Come (eternal life), and the Land of Israel. The Torah, he says, is learned through discipline, as Proverbs 1:5 states: "The wise shall hear and increase in learning." The Land of Israel is given to those who accept discipline (Deuteronomy 8:5), and the World to Come is attained through the discipline of Torah and the understanding of Musar (moral instruction), guided by Proverbs 6:23: "For the commandment is a lamp, and the teaching is light, and the reproofs of discipline are the way of life."
Think about it: how often do we truly learn and grow during times of ease? It's often in the face of adversity that we dig deep, discover our resilience, and connect to something larger than ourselves.
Rabbi Eliezer ben Yaakov takes this idea even further, urging us to reframe our understanding of reproof. He suggests we read Proverbs 3:12 not as "For whom the Lord loves, He reproves," but as "For whom the Lord loves, He causes pain." Ouch. But he then asks a crucial question: "At the time of causing pain, one should ask, 'Who caused them to desire their Father in Heaven?'" It's a radical idea – that suffering can be a catalyst for drawing closer to God.
Rabbi Nathan compares afflictions to sacrifices, saying both are pleasing to God. Just as sacrifices atone for sins (Leviticus 1:4), so too do afflictions (Lamentations 3:39). In fact, he argues, afflictions are more beloved than sacrifices because they involve bodily pain, the ultimate offering, as Job 2:4 states: "Skin for skin! All that a man has he will give for his life." So, while sacrifices involve monetary loss, afflictions involve something far more personal.
The Midrash concludes with various perspectives linking divine action to Israel's behavior and destiny. Rabbi Levi equates suffering with the Day of Judgement. Other Sages connect suffering to Rosh Hashanah and Yom Kippur, reminding us that "the Lord will not abandon His people." Rabbi Yishmael and Rav Shmuel bar Nachmani suggest that when Israel follows God's will, He acts for their benefit; otherwise, He acts for the sake of His great Name. And finally, the Sages distinguish between God's actions for the diaspora and for the people in the Land of Israel, but the concluding sentiment remains: "For the Lord will not abandon His people."
So, what are we left with? The Midrash Tehillim doesn't offer easy answers to the problem of suffering. But it does offer a framework for understanding it. It suggests that suffering isn't random or meaningless. It can be a catalyst for growth, a path to deeper connection with God, and a means of attaining the most precious gifts of all. Perhaps, then, the next time we face adversity, we can remember these teachings and ask ourselves: what is this suffering trying to teach me? And how can it bring me closer to the Divine?