We often paint biblical figures with broad strokes – good guys and bad guys. But what happens when we delve deeper, when we wrestle with their imperfections and try to understand their motivations? That's exactly what the Midrash Tehillim, a collection of rabbinic teachings on the Book of Psalms, invites us to do. Today, we're diving into Midrash Tehillim 7, which grapples with the legacies of David and Saul.

The text opens with a fascinating observation: Rabbi Yehuda, citing Rabbi Levi, points out that three pronouncements David made concerning Saul all came true. We find these words in 1 Samuel 26:10: "As the Lord lives, the Lord shall strike him." And so it was. "Either his day will come and he will die," and that, too, happened. "Or he will go down in battle and perish," and as 1 Samuel 31:6 tells us, "So Saul died, and his three sons." It's a stark reminder of the power of words, especially those spoken by figures of authority and perceived righteousness.

But the midrash doesn't stop there. It goes on to explore the complexities of Saul's character, defending him in some ways. We hear that Saul had a concubine (2 Samuel 3:7), and it compares him to David, who "took more concubines and wives out of Jerusalem." And it asks pointedly: “And you compare yourself to Saul?”

Then, there's the almost superhuman image of Saul – Rabbi Levi says he could travel sixty miles in a day! Rabbi Simon ups that to one hundred and twenty! And some rabbis even claim one hundred and eighty! When was this? During the tumultuous time when the Ark of the Covenant was captured (1 Samuel 4:10-11). The midrash even draws a parallel between Saul and the man of Benjamin who ran to Shiloh to deliver the news of the Ark's capture, highlighting the importance of appearances and the potential consequences of our actions. It’s a reminder that even those who seem to be acting with good intentions can make choices that have far-reaching effects.

The midrash also defends Saul's purity in eating non-sacred food, referencing 1 Samuel 9:23-24, where Samuel offers Saul a special portion. Rabbi Yochanan specifies the thigh and tail, while Rabbi says the thigh and breast were served. The point is clear: Saul maintained a level of ritual purity even in his everyday life. Again, the midrash asks: “He ate non-sacred food in purity, and you compare yourself to Saul?”

So, what does all of this mean? The midrash turns to Job 12:16: "With Him is strength and wisdom; the deceived and the deceiver are His." Here, strength is equated with Torah itself, drawing on Psalms 29:11 ("The Lord will give strength to His people"). Rabbi Yehoshua ben Levi even suggests that Torah is called wisdom because "it gives strength to the body and the eyes." (Another interpretation suggests that Torah weakens the body and eyes, emphasizing the dedication required for study.)

The midrash then grapples with the "deceived and the deceiver." Rabbi Shimon ben Lakish interprets them as prophets and prophetesses. The words Shetia and Sega are also offered as possibilities. The underlying message is that Torah has the power to correct us when we err. As Job 6:10 says, "Even though I have erred, the teaching has not strayed from me." The Torah, it seems, is patient and forgiving, waiting for us to return to its teachings, not only in life but even at the moment of death. David, in Psalms 25:17, requests, "Let my soul be redeemed from distress," hinting at this very idea.

The midrash concludes with thoughts on Kush the Benjamite. Rabbi Chanina bar Papa draws a parallel between Joseph and Saul. Just as Joseph's mistress tempted him ("Lie with me," Genesis 39:7), so too did God summon him ("Come to me, the Hebrew slave," Genesis 39:17). Similarly, Saul accuses his sons of turning his servants against him (1 Samuel 22:8). Rabbi Acha raises a crucial question: why would David speak ill of Saul if those who commit abominations are not punished? The answer lies in Proverbs 24:17: "In the falling of your enemy, do not rejoice." David, by singing a song to God, violated this principle.

Ultimately, this passage in Midrash Tehillim 7 is a complex tapestry of interpretations and moral considerations. It resists simple answers and compels us to grapple with the nuances of human behavior, even among biblical figures. It reminds us that judgment is not always straightforward and that even in our mistakes, the teachings of the Torah offer a path toward redemption. What do we take away from this? Perhaps a call for greater empathy, a deeper understanding of context, and a recognition that even our heroes are flawed individuals striving to live a life of meaning.