The Book of Psalms certainly does. And the Midrash, the ancient rabbinic commentaries, dives deep into these very questions. Today, we're looking at Midrash Tehillim 5, a fascinating exploration of wickedness, justice, and even… blaming God?
The Midrash begins with a stark declaration: "I hate all workers of iniquity." It then names names: Doeg and Ahithophel, figures from the Tanakh known for their betrayals. The Midrash points out the insidious nature of their evil: they acted truthfully, but with false intent. As the Talmud (Sanhedrin 90a) teaches, there are those who have no share in the World to Come, listing Balaam, Doeg, Ahithophel, and Gehazi. Pretty harsh company, right?
But then the Midrash takes a surprising turn. It shifts the focus to Nebuchadnezzar, the Babylonian king who destroyed the Temple in Jerusalem. Can you imagine the pain and trauma that caused? The Midrash calls him wicked. But why?
Rabbi Berachiah and Rabbi Chalbo, quoting Rabbi Samuel, make a striking point: everything David said in the Book of Psalms about the wicked culminates in the description of Nebuchadnezzar in Psalm 37:35: "I have seen a wicked, ruthless man flourishing like a luxuriant native tree." Think about that image – someone who should be punished thriving instead. It's infuriating!
The problem, according to the Midrash, is that Nebuchadnezzar, despite his actions, ultimately acknowledged God's justice. David praises God and Jerusalem in the Psalms (Psalm 147:12, Psalm 11:7), but Nebuchadnezzar himself declares (Daniel 4:34) that "All his acts are just and his ways are right."
The Midrash draws a parallel to Moses, who says in Deuteronomy 32:4, "The Rock, his work is perfect, for all his ways are justice." The point? That even when we don't understand God's plan, we must acknowledge His justice. But why should this apply to Nebuchadnezzar, the destroyer? Was this wicked man considered righteous because "All his acts are just?”
And here’s where it gets really interesting: The Midrash interprets this situation as almost… blaming God! It cites Hannah's prayer in 1 Samuel 2:6-7, "The Lord brings death and makes alive; he brings down to the grave and raises up. The Lord sends poverty and wealth; he humbles and he exalts." Hannah acknowledges God's absolute power. But Nebuchadnezzar echoes this sentiment in Daniel 4:37, saying, "And those who walk in pride he is able to humble."
God's response, according to the Midrash, is sharp: "Yesterday you said (Daniel 3:15) 'And who is the god who will deliver you from my hands?' And now you say, 'I do not want you or your punishment.' And who will make me contemptible among the people of Israel? As it is said (Isaiah 43:21) 'the people I formed for myself that they may proclaim my praise.'"
Essentially, God is saying, "You can't have it both ways! You can't deny me and then claim to understand my justice. My people are meant to praise me, and your actions make that difficult."
So, what does it all mean? Midrash Tehillim 5 isn't just about condemning the wicked. It's about grappling with the complexities of divine justice, even when it seems contradictory. It's a reminder that even in the face of suffering and destruction, we are called to recognize God's righteousness. It invites us to question, to wrestle, and ultimately, to reaffirm our faith, even when the world around us seems to defy it.
It's a challenging thought, isn't it? How do we reconcile our understanding of justice with the often-unjust realities of the world? And what does it mean to praise God, even when we're struggling to understand His ways?