That feeling, that tension between adoration and divine quiet, is at the heart of Midrash Tehillim 109, a powerful exploration of Psalm 109.
The midrash, a form of Jewish biblical interpretation, opens with King David crying out, "My God, do not be silent about my praise!" It's a raw plea, a challenge even. But why this seeming contradiction? Why would David, the sweet singer of Israel, feel the need to implore God not to be silent about the praise directed toward Him?
The key, according to the midrash, lies in the relationship between God and Israel. Referencing Deuteronomy 10:20, the text reminds us, "You shall fear the LORD your God; you shall serve Him and cling to Him." And if you do, Psalm 22:4 tells us, "He is your praise and He is your God." See, Israel has no praise except for the Holy One, blessed be He, and the Holy One, blessed be He, has no praise except for Israel! As Isaiah 43:21 declares, "This people I have formed for Myself; they shall relate My praise." It’s a reciprocal relationship, a divine feedback loop.
But what happens when that loop is broken? What happens when enemies rise, mouths spewing wickedness and deceit? As Psalm 37:13 says, "The LORD laughs at him, for He sees that his day is coming." But in the moment, in the thick of it, the silence can be deafening.
The midrash doesn't shy away from historical trauma. It recalls the destruction of the Temple, the "holy and beautiful house, where our fathers praised You," now a "burning waste" (Isaiah 64:10-11). And God’s response? A chilling echo from Jeremiah 7:16: "I have been silent from the day your fathers left Egypt, and you have not listened to Me." Ouch.
Then, the midrash introduces the figure of Edom, often understood as a symbolic representation of Israel's enemies. The text paints a vivid picture: "Now Edom is acting like a woman in labor. For the mouths of wicked and deceitful men have opened." They desecrate the Kodesh Hakodashim, the Holy of Holies, and taunt, "Where is their God, that He may come and fight with us?" This echoes the challenge in Deuteronomy 32:37-38: "Where are their gods, the rock in which they sought refuge...? Let them rise up and help you! Let them be your protection!" It's a brutal moment of vulnerability, a crisis of faith.
The midrash then connects this hatred to the ancient animosity between Esau (ancestor of Edom) and Jacob (ancestor of Israel). "What is the hatred that is spoken in hatred?" the text asks. "It is that which Esau did to Jacob," fueled by envy over the blessing Jacob received (Genesis 27:41). Even when Israel seeks peace, as Numbers 20:14 recounts – "Thus says your brother Israel..." – Edom responds with the sword. Psalm 120:7 laments, "I am for peace; but when I speak, they are for war."
God, however, does not condone this unprovoked aggression. Amos 1:11 declares, "Thus says the Lord, 'For three transgressions of Edom, and for four, I will not revoke the punishment; because he pursued his brother with the sword, and cast off all pity, and his anger tore perpetually, and he kept his wrath forever.'" God sees the injustice, the relentless pursuit of hatred.
The midrash concludes by circling back to the original plea. Even in the face of such animosity and apparent divine silence, the praise must continue. But why? Perhaps, it's because the act of praise itself is an act of defiance, a refusal to let the voices of hatred drown out the song of faith. Perhaps, it's because even in silence, God is listening.
This ancient text reminds us that our relationship with the divine is not always smooth. There will be times of doubt, times of silence, times when the world seems to conspire against us. But it’s in those moments, perhaps, that our praise matters most. It’s a testament to our enduring faith, a refusal to be silenced, and a powerful affirmation of the enduring bond between Israel and the Holy One, blessed be He.