That’s kind of the feeling behind Psalm 114, and the Midrash Tehillim, an ancient collection of rabbinic teachings on the Book of Psalms, dives deep into the joy and gratitude expressed within it.

"Praise the name of the Lord! Praise Him for the war He fought for us," it begins, echoing the relief of the Israelites after the Exodus. It’s a song of deliverance, remembering how God fought for them, as we are told in Exodus 14:14: "The Lord will fight for you." It’s a pretty powerful statement.

But it's more than just a historical recounting. The Midrash contrasts this world, where God might be cursed or provoked, with the world to come, where such irreverence will be unthinkable. God, in turn, promises to bless us "from now and forever," mirroring our own eternal praise, like Psalm 125:2 says: "The Lord surrounds His people from now until eternity."

So, what was it like for the Israelites leaving Egypt? Psalm 105:38 tells us, "Egypt was glad when they departed." Rabbi Berechiah offers an interesting analogy to help us understand the complexities of the situation: "This can be compared to a meat seller riding on a donkey..." (Unfortunately, the text cuts off there, leaving us to wonder about the full comparison! But it hints at a sense of relief and perhaps even a bit of self-interest on the part of the Egyptians).

When David saw the Israelites' joy, he mocked the Egyptians, the Midrash says. And that brings us to the verse, "Sing to God, sing praises to His name; extol Him who rides on the clouds" (Psalm 68:5). But what does it mean to "extol Him who rides on the clouds?" It’s a loaded phrase! The text references Job 7:7, "Do not gaze at me, and I shall not exist," hinting at the awe and reverence due to God.

Interestingly, Rabbi Yehuda interprets "extol" to mean "destroy," while Rabbi Nehemiah understands it as "clear the way before Him," connecting it to Isaiah 62:10: "Clear the way, clear the way, remove the obstacles from the road of my people." So, is it about destruction or preparation? Maybe both. Clearing the path sometimes requires removing obstacles, even destructive ones.

The text then moves into a fascinating discussion about the heavens. How many are there? The Sages suggest two, referencing Psalm 68:34, "Ascribe strength to God; His majesty is over Israel, and His strength is in the skies." But other Sages suggest three, based on Deuteronomy 10:14, "Behold, the heavens and the heaven of heavens belong to God." And then Rabbi Eliezer throws a curveball, claiming there are seven: heaven, firmament, clouds, throne, dwelling, place, and the wilderness. It’s a cosmic ladder of sorts, each level bringing us closer to the divine.

According to Rabbi Tachlifa ben Yaakov in the name of Rabbi Yehuda bar Simon, God saw the deeds of the righteous and was pleased. Rabbi Pinchas HaKohen bar Chama added that the sky, called "wilderness," is sown with the deeds of the righteous, producing fruit. It’s a beautiful image of our good deeds literally bearing fruit in the heavens.

And what about God's name? Rabbi Yehuda HaNasi asks Rabbi Shmuel bar Nachman about "His name" in Psalm 68:5. The response is intriguing: "There is no place where a person is not appointed to oversee his coming, except for the Holy One, blessed be He, who is appointed to oversee His own coming, as it says, 'His name is the Lord.'" The Midrash suggests reading it not as "His name" but as "His coming." It's as if God is constantly present, overseeing and involved in His own creation.

Rabbi Yehuda HaNasi then laments a lost tradition, a secret teaching he couldn't share because he had been rebuked for revealing secrets in the past. The story goes that a maiden once asked Rabbi Elazar: "What is His name, composed of these two letters, by which God created two worlds?" referring to the letters yod and hei in the name Yah (יָהּ). Isaiah 26:4 states, "For in Yah the Lord created the worlds."

The Midrash explores the significance of these letters. Was this world created with the letter yod and the World to Come with the letter hei, or vice versa? Referencing Genesis 2:4, it concludes that this world was created with the letter yod. The shape of the letter hei, open at the bottom, symbolizes that everything created in this world eventually goes down to Sheol, the grave. Yet, the "prick" within the letter hints at the resurrection of the dead. The World to Come, on the other hand, was created with the letter hei. The letter yod, small and bent over, represents the humility of the wicked in the future, as Isaiah 2:17 says, "And the haughtiness of man shall be brought low."

So, when David understood that God created two worlds with these two letters, he began to praise God with hallelujah. It’s a reminder that even in the smallest details, like the shape of a letter, we can find profound meaning and reason to praise the Divine.

What does it all mean? Perhaps it’s a call to look deeper, to see the layers of meaning embedded in the world around us. To remember that even in times of darkness, there is always hope for redemption, for a "coming" of the Divine that will ultimately set things right. And maybe, just maybe, to be a little more humble ourselves, recognizing that we are all part of something much larger than ourselves.