And it turns out, the ancient rabbis were thinking about this very thing, about the art of asking, of receiving, of appeasing the powers that be.
In Vayikra Rabbah 5, a Midrash on the book of Leviticus, we find a fascinating discussion on how to approach those from whom we seek something. Rabbi Shimon starts us off with a bold statement: "Israel are great craftsman in that they know how to appease their Creator." In other words, we’re pretty good at getting on God's good side. But how?
Rabbi Yudan offers an analogy, comparing us to the Cutheans – also known as Samaritans – who, he says, are "clever in encouraging acts of kindness." He paints a picture: A Cuthean approaches a woman, innocently asking for an onion. Then, he escalates: "Is there an onion without bread?" And finally, "Is there eating without drinking?" Through persistence and a carefully crafted request, he gets a full meal! It’s a layered approach, a gradual building of need.
Rav Aḥa then shifts the focus to everyday interactions, contrasting two types of women borrowing from a neighbor. One is clever, the other not so much. The "clever" woman is considerate, respectful, and builds rapport before asking for what she needs. "Peace be with you, my neighbor! How are you doing? How is your husband doing? How are your children doing?" Only after establishing a connection does she broach the subject of borrowing a utensil. The "not clever" woman? She barges in, doesn’t bother with pleasantries, and immediately demands the item. Unsurprisingly, she's usually turned down. It's all about the approach, isn't it?
Rabbi Ḥanina continues this thread with the story of two sharecroppers seeking funds from their landlord. Again, we see the contrast between a savvy and a clumsy approach. The "clever" sharecropper presents himself well – clean clothes, combed hair, a cheerful demeanor. He flatters the landlord, praising the land, the bulls, and the goats. He creates an atmosphere of goodwill before asking for the loan. The "not clever" sharecropper, on the other hand, is disheveled, pessimistic, and complains about everything. Naturally, he's met with resistance.
These aren’t just stories about borrowing onions or utensils or money. They're parables about how we approach the world, about how we build relationships, and about how we ask for what we need. They highlight the importance of respect, consideration, and a positive attitude.
But the most compelling example comes from Rabbi Ḥoni, who turns to King David himself. David, the sweet singer of Israel, the author of Psalms, knew a thing or two about appealing to a higher power. Rabbi Ḥoni says that David was like the "good sharecropper." Initially, David praises God, singing, "The heavens relate the glory of God, and the sky tells the work of His hands" (Psalms 19:2). The heavens respond, asking, "Do you, perhaps, need anything?"
David continues his praise, and God asks again, "What do you want?" Then, David gets to the heart of the matter. He asks for forgiveness: "Who can discern errors [shegiot], from the unwitting sins [shegagot] that I performed before You?" (Psalms 19:13). And then, "Acquit me of hidden faults" (Psalms 19:13). He acknowledges his shortcomings, both conscious and unconscious.
Finally, David declares, "Keep Your servant far from sinners [zedim]" (Psalms 19:14); these are the intentional transgressions [zedonot]. Let them not have dominion over me, these are the severe transgressions. Then I will be blameless and cleansed of great [rav] transgression" (Psalms 19:14).
David concludes by arguing before God, “Master of the universe, You are a great [rav] God, and I, my sins are numerous [ravrevin]. It is fitting for a great God to forgive numerous sins.” He then quotes, “For the sake of Your name, Lord, and pardon my iniquity, for it is great [rav]” (Psalms 25:11).
David, through his praise, his humility, and his direct request for forgiveness, exemplifies the art of appeasing the Creator. He acknowledges his flaws, expresses his desire for redemption, and appeals to God's greatness.
What’s so striking about this Midrash is how relatable it is. We’ve all been in situations where we needed something, whether it was a small favor or something much bigger. And these stories remind us that how we ask, how we approach others, and how we present ourselves can make all the difference. But more profoundly, it's a testament to the power of humility and sincerity, especially when seeking forgiveness and connection with something far greater than ourselves. So, the next time you need to ask for something, remember the lessons of the Cuthean, the clever woman, the savvy sharecropper, and King David himself.