The ancient texts grapple with this feeling, painting a stark picture of the despair that comes from feeling forsaken. As the Midrash of Philo poignantly puts it, "In truth there is not misery greater than to be deserted and despised by God."
Think about that for a moment. What could be worse than feeling utterly cut off from the source of all being, all goodness? The text continues, "For the anarchy of fools is cruel and very intolerable; but to be despised by the great King, and to fall down as an abject person cast down from the government of the Supreme Power is an indescribable affliction." It's a powerful image, isn't it? To be not just alone, but actively rejected by the highest power. It suggests a depth of suffering that goes beyond mere loneliness.
But where does this feeling of divine abandonment come from? The Midrash of Philo immediately pivots to a very specific example to explore this theme: the story of Cain.
Remember Cain and Abel? The first brothers? Cain, consumed by jealousy, murders his brother Abel. And after this horrific act, Cain cries out, "Everyone who shall find me will kill me!" (Genesis 4:14). But here's the puzzle: who exactly is this "everyone"? At this point, according to the biblical narrative, there are barely any other people on Earth besides Adam and Eve, his parents. So, who does Cain fear?
The Midrash of Philo highlights this very question, forcing us to look deeper. Is Cain's fear simply a rational one, based on the threat of physical retribution? Or is there something more profound at play? Is Cain perhaps expressing the agonizing realization that he is now marked, not just by the deed itself, but by the very essence of his being?
Perhaps this fear is less about physical danger and more about the inner torment that comes from knowing you have severed yourself from something sacred. The idea is that Cain’s punishment, in part, is the awful realization that he has become an outcast, even if there are no other people around to actually outcast him.
Is Cain's fear a reflection of the ultimate isolation – the feeling of being utterly and completely alone, not just in the world, but in the eyes of God? The Midrash of Philo doesn't explicitly answer this, but it plants the seed. It invites us to consider the profound consequences of our actions, and the possibility that the greatest punishment is not physical, but spiritual – the unbearable weight of feeling deserted and despised by the Divine.
It’s a tough concept to grapple with. It challenges us to think about our own actions and whether we are living in a way that connects us to or distances us from the Divine. And maybe, just maybe, it’s a reminder that even in our darkest moments, the possibility of return and connection always remains.