This midrash, a kind of interpretive commentary, opens by linking David's words in Psalm 145 – "I will exalt you, my God the King" – to the prophet Isaiah's similar declaration in Isaiah 25:1. Both figures aren't just offering a knee-jerk "thank you." Their praise is rooted in something deeper, something… miraculous. Isaiah declares thanks to God "not in vain, but because You have done wonders." But what wonders, exactly?
The midrash directs us back to earlier passages in Isaiah, describing a time of cosmic upheaval – when God will "punish the host of heaven" (Isaiah 24:21) and "gather together" the dispersed (Isaiah 27:13). "The moon shall be confounded" it says. Only then, after all this, will Isaiah proclaim, "O Lord, You are my God; I will exalt You."
So, too, with David. He doesn't just randomly decide to praise God. His words are a response to a promise, a vision of a blessed future for Israel. As Psalm 144:12 describes: "Our sons are like saplings… our daughters are like corner pillars carved for the palace."
What does this imagery evoke? Strength, beauty, stability. The midrash asks: "And do they need adornment? Are they not white like lilies and red like roses on the corner of the altar?" The implication is clear: they are already perfect, already radiant in their inherent worth.
The midrash goes on, painting a picture of abundance and peace. The men are tall and strong, "like cedars of Lebanon." And where does all their sustenance come from? God, of course! He provides "from the treasury," echoing Malachi 3:10: "And you shall eat the old store."
Even the natural world reflects this harmony. Remember the constant threat of predators? "He left the flock because of the wolves," says Zechariah. Or in 1 Samuel, "And a lion and a bear would come and take a lamb from the flock." No more! Now, as Isaiah 65:25 promises, "The wolf and the lamb shall feed together." This isn't just about sheep; it’s about Israel itself. As Ezekiel 34:17 says, "And I will give them forage."
The streets, once filled with weeping due to "the angel of death and the terrorist," are now safe. Zechariah 8:4-5 envisions: "Even elderly men and women will sit in the streets of Jerusalem, each with his staff in his hand due to the many days they have lived… And the streets of the city shall be full of boys and girls playing in the streets." A beautiful image of generational continuity and carefree joy.
And it’s because of this promised future, this vision of wholeness and prosperity, that the Psalmist proclaims: "Blessed is the people for whom this is so" (Psalm 144:15). It's a preemptive blessing, a thanksgiving offered before the blessings fully manifest.
The midrash emphasizes that this isn't a one-time thing. It's not just singing God's praises when a miracle happens. In the future, this gratitude will be constant, an ongoing expression of devotion. "Not like now, when they sing and bless God only when miracles happen to them, but in the future they will not be idle and will always sing and bless God." It will be a continuous offering, "forever and ever" (Psalm 145:2).
We have no other task but to bless You with new blessings, the midrash explains, quoting Psalm 68:20: "Blessed be the Lord day by day."
So, what does this mean for us? Perhaps it's a call to cultivate a habit of gratitude, not just for the blessings we see in the present, but for the potential for goodness that lies within the future. To praise not just for what is, but for what will be. To trust in the promise, even when the path ahead is unclear. To see the "saplings" and "corner pillars" in our lives, even when they are still taking root. That, perhaps, is the deepest form of praise.