Ever feel like the universe is just... watching you? Like your every move is being scrutinized, especially when you're down on your luck? Well, Jewish tradition has something to say about that, and it might surprise you.
Let's dive into Midrash Tehillim, a collection of rabbinic interpretations on the Book of Psalms. Specifically, we're going to explore Psalm 136, a powerful song of gratitude that repeats the phrase, "His kindness is forever." But what does that kindness really look like?
Rabbi Yehoshua ben Levi, a prominent figure in the Talmud, offers a striking image. He says, give thanks to the One who collects a person's debt with kindness. Think about that for a second. Even in demanding what’s owed, there’s a way to do it with compassion. He illustrates this with examples: A rich person might pay with an ox, a poor person with a lamb, an orphan with an egg, and even a widow with just a hen. It’s about meeting people where they are, accepting what they can offer, and recognizing their inherent dignity. It’s not about the amount given, but the heart with which it is given and received.
It's a powerful idea, isn't it? That even in the act of repayment, there can be grace, understanding, and divine kindness.
But Rabbi Yehoshua ben Levi doesn't stop there. He asks: what about all those generations before the Torah was even given? What about those twenty-six generations that God created but didn’t yet give the Torah to? According to him, those twenty-six verses of "His kindness is forever" correspond to those generations. Even without the explicit guidance of the Torah, God provided for them with unwavering kindness. As we find in Legends of the Jews, Ginzberg elaborates on the various ways God sustained humanity even in its earliest stages, long before covenants and commandments.
Now, why is this particular passage—Psalm 136—called the Great Hallel? Hallel (הלל) refers to a set of Psalms recited on Jewish holidays and new moons as an expression of praise and gratitude. Rabbi Yochanan offers an incredible image: The Almighty sits at the height of the universe and apportions sustenance for all creatures. It's a vision of a caring, involved God, actively ensuring that every being receives what it needs. It's a profound claim about divine providence.
So, where does this "Great Hallel" actually begin? There's some debate! Rabbi Yehuda says it starts with "Give thanks..." (Psalm 136:1) and extends to "By the rivers of Babylon" (Psalm 137:1). Rabbi Yochanan suggests it starts earlier, with "A Song of Ascents" (Psalm 134:1), also ending at "By the rivers of Babylon." And Rav Acha bar Yaakov places the beginning at "For Hashem has chosen Yaakov" (Psalm 135:4), again concluding with Psalm 137:1.
What does this disagreement tell us? Perhaps it’s that the experience of gratitude, the feeling of Hallel, can be found in various places, in different moments, depending on what resonates with you. It’s not a rigid formula, but a spectrum of praise.
Think about that ending point, though: "By the rivers of Babylon." A place of exile, of sorrow, of longing for home. Even in the depths of despair, the Hallel, the praise, the recognition of God's enduring kindness, can still be found. Even there, even then, the tradition reminds us that kindness persists.
So, the next time you feel like the universe is watching, remember this: it's not just watching, it's providing. Even in the collection of debts, even in times of exile, there is kindness. His kindness is forever. What does that mean for how we should treat each other? What does it mean for how we view our own struggles? Maybe the key is simply to open our eyes and look for it.