Introduction
Psalm 42 is the song of the soul yearning for the House of God. Throughout the psalm, the psalmist enumerates three matters over which his soul yearns and moans: the first, the absence of prophecy and Ruach HaKodesh; the second, the lack of signs and wonders in exile; and the third, the suffering of the exile itself. In the section before us, we continue from the fifth verse, where the psalmist describes the memory of the pilgrimage days, and from there to the reply he offers his soul, and to the second plea - the absence of miracles and wonders.
"For I Would Pass Through the Thicket" - Longing for Lost Alacrity
אֵלֶּה אֶזְכְּרָה וְאֶשְׁפְּכָה עָלַי נַפְשִׁי כִּי אֶעֱבֹר בַּסָּךְ אֶדַּדֵּם עַד בֵּית אֱלֹהִים בְּקוֹל רִנָּה וְתוֹדָה הָמוֹן חוֹגֵג׃ - These things I remember and pour out my soul within me: how I would pass through the thickets, treading with them to the House of God, with a voice of joyous song and thanksgiving, a celebrating multitude.
The Malbim adds another dimension here: The psalmist recalls what he remembers, and concerning this, "I pour out my soul within me" - my soul pours forth in yearning, desire, and longing. The point is that the fact that I do not merit reaching the rebuilt Beit HaMikdash and engaging in the service of Hashem is, as it were, my own fault. Through my own misdeeds, I myself brought this about: because of my wrongdoing the Beit HaMikdash is not rebuilt, and because of them it is impossible to ascend and serve Hashem on the three pilgrimage festivals. Therefore my soul laments against me - "and I pour out my soul upon myself" - the blame lies with me, for I have not rectified myself, and for that reason I am unworthy.
And then my soul recalls: "For I would pass through the thickets, treading with them." Once, in days of old, I was swift and eager to run to the House of Hashem. Even though I had to pass through a place of thorns - "basach," an expression of a thorn hedge (mesuchah), as in "straighter than a thorn hedge," and "Behold, I will hedge your way with thorns," where sirim are thorns - nevertheless, I passed through. And how does one make his way through a place of thorns? "Edaddeim" - by stepping gingerly and treading carefully, for one cannot walk there in a normal manner. I walked over the thorns and briers, and all of this was "with a voice of joyous song and thanksgiving." Not only that, but I did not go alone; rather, I drew others along with me - "a celebrating multitude."
And over this, my soul now pours itself out: that I no longer hold this spiritual level or this reality. Today, I am negligent in the service of Hashem; I do not devote myself to come to the House of God, and I am unwilling to brave all obstacles and hindrances. A slight disturbance is enough, and I no longer go. David says: My soul grieves over the fact that, as it were, I brought it upon myself that there is no Beit HaMikdash and that I cannot make the pilgrimage, on account of my own sluggishness.
"Why Are You Downcast, My Soul?" - Two Claims and Two Answers
מַה תִּשְׁתּוֹחֲחִי נַפְשִׁי וַתֶּהֱמִי עָלָי הוֹחִלִי לֵאלֹהִים כִּי עוֹד אוֹדֶנּוּ יְשׁוּעוֹת פָּנָיו׃ - Why are you downcast, my soul, and why do you moan against me? Hope to God, for I will yet thank Him for the salvations of His countenance.
Now he replies to his soul: What do I hear from you? Two things. First - "tishtochachi" (why are you downcast), a dejection of spirit, that you despair and are immersed in gloom because the light is withdrawing from you and you do not merit beholding the light of Hashem. And second - "vatehemi alai" (and why do you moan against me), meaning that you harbor resentment against me: I am to blame, I distanced myself, I am no longer in proper deveikut and do not hasten to the House of Hashem as I should, and therefore you complain against me.
Dovid HaMelech says to his soul: In both of these matters you are incorrect. Regarding your moaning against me, as though I am the one to blame - it does not depend on me, but rather "hope to God": salvation will come when you place your hope in Hashem; when the will arises before Him, then salvation will come and the Beit HaMikdash will be rebuilt. And regarding your being downcast and despairing, concerning this too he says, "hope to God." And what is the meaning of the word yichul (hoping)? The Malbim explains that yichul refers specifically to something that has been promised to us. In several places, the Malbim clarifies the distinction between kivui (hoping or expecting) and yichul: one who hopes (mekaveh) hopes that things will turn out well, but the outcome is not certain; whereas one who awaits in hope (meyachel) anticipates something that was explicitly promised. Therefore he says: Hope to God like a person anticipating something promised to him, for the time will surely come - "for I will yet thank Him for the salvations of His countenance"; I will yet merit that the Shechinah will return to me. And as we explained, "the salvations of His countenance" refers to the revelation of the Shechinah.
"From the Land of the Jordan and the Hermon Peaks" - The Second Claim: Where Are the Miracles?
אֱלֹהַי עָלַי נַפְשִׁי תִשְׁתּוֹחָח עַל כֵּן אֶזְכָּרְךָ מֵאֶרֶץ יַרְדֵּן וְחֶרְמוֹנִים מֵהַר מִצְעָר׃ - "O my God, my soul is cast down within me; therefore I remember You from the land of the Jordan, and the Hermon peaks, from Mount Mitzar."
Here, the Malbim explains, the second lament begins. We have seen that there are three things: the absence of prophecy and divine inspiration, the lack of signs and wonders in exile, and the sorrow of the exile itself. Now the Psalmist turns to the absence of signs and wonders in exile - we do not see open miracles and divine revelation. Regarding this he says: "O my God, my soul is cast down within me" - over this second matter; "therefore I remember You from the land of the Jordan and the Hermon peaks" - I recall the miracles You performed at the beginning, by the Jordan and by Mount Hermon, "from Mount Mitzar" of the Hermon mountain range.
The commentators grapple with the meaning of "and the Hermon peaks, from Mount Mitzar." The Malbim explains that there is Mount Hermon, and next to it is a smaller peak called "Mount Mitzar" - mitzar meaning small, as in the verse "and it is small [mitzar]" (Bereishit 19:20). Thus, Mount Hermon was divided into a large mountain and a small mountain, and most of the battles took place on the smaller mountain, Mount Mitzar, where most of the miracles occurred during the conquest of Canaan. And now he laments: I remember the miracles You performed for us back then, when we crossed the Jordan, and what You did for us at Mount Hermon and especially at Mount Mitzar - Master of the Universe, why do You not perform miracles for us as in days of old? This is the second matter over which his soul yearns and is downcast.
Rashi also explains "I remember You from the land of the Jordan" - from what You did for us at the Jordan and the mountains of Hermon. Even after all the provocation we provoked You with at Shittim, You dried up the Jordan for us, brought us into the Land, and the Jordan turned backward - behold, You performed wondrous miracles for us. And what is "Mount Mitzar"? Rashi explains that this refers to Mount Sinai, called mitzar because it was humble and small, the lowliest of mountains. Thus: after we provoked You at Shittim, You performed miracles for us at the Jordan; and after we provoked You with the Golden Calf, You performed miracles for us at Mount Sinai, forgave our iniquity, and continued to accompany us. This is what Knesset Yisrael (the Congregation of Israel) says to the Holy One, blessed be He: All of this I remember now in my exile, and I wonder - why do I not merit this now? After all, back then too we provoked You, yet You performed miracles for us. If You would say that today we do not merit it because we provoke You - back then we also provoked You! Therefore, I remind You of all the miracles from those days, and I hope and anticipate that You will perform miracles for us today as well.
The Radak, by contrast, explains that the remembrance here is not about the miracles in the wilderness, but about the pilgrimages they once made - echoing what we discussed earlier, longing for the day the Beit HaMikdash will be rebuilt so we can ascend to the House of Hashem. He recalls: I remember how people used to come from the land of the Jordan to ascend to the Beit HaMikdash, "and the Hermon peaks" - those who lived in Mount Hermon, and likewise from Mount Mitzar, they all used to make the pilgrimage. I remember days of old, how they would ascend on the three pilgrimage festivals to prostrate themselves on the mountain of Hashem. The Radak notes that he mentions these specific places because they are the outer borders of Eretz Yisrael: Hermon is on the eastern side of the Jordan, and the Jordan on the other side. Although we do not find "Mount Mitzar" elsewhere in Tanach, the Radak suggests it may have been on the other side of the Jordan, or perhaps it corresponds to "Tzo'ar" mentioned in the mountains of Judah, which was on a mountain, and therefore that mountain was called Mount Mitzar.
"Deep Calls to Deep" - Trouble Heralds Salvation
תְּהוֹם אֶל תְּהוֹם קוֹרֵא לְקוֹל צִנּוֹרֶיךָ כָּל מִשְׁבָּרֶיךָ וְגַלֶּיךָ עָלַי עָבָרוּ׃ - "Deep calls to deep at the roar of Your cataracts; all Your breakers and waves have passed over me."
יוֹמָם יְצַוֶּה יְהֹוָה חַסְדּוֹ וּבַלַּיְלָה שִׁירֹה עִמִּי תְּפִלָּה לְאֵל חַיָּי׃ - "By day Hashem commands His lovingkindness, and at night His song is with me, a prayer to the God of my life."
Rashi explains: "Deep calls to deep" - one trouble summons another; "at the roar of Your cataracts" - which pour down upon me, troubles like torrential waters; "all Your breakers and waves have passed over me" - the waves of the sea rise, break, and crash down upon me.
The Malbim elaborates extensively here. He says: At that time, I constantly perceived Your wonders, Master of the Universe, for even when troubles came upon me, they were themselves a sign and proof that You would yet perform miracles and wonders for me. David illustrates this with a parable: time is like a stormy sea, and the nation of Israel is like a ship sailing in the heart of the raging sea, while the troubles are like waves crashing against the side of the ship, threatening to capsize it. He describes the deeps surging in the sea during a tempest, with water welling up from below and forming colossal waves. As it were, the deeps draw their power "from Your channels" - the heavenly channels above, the celestial flow from the heavens, directing every multitude of waters in the skies. The celestial channels, so to speak, thunder down toward the deeps, and the deeps cry out to the waves and the breakers, and the waves roar and shatter against the hull of the ship. Thus, there is a sequence from the channels to the deeps and on to the waves, and this manifests as adversity assailing the ship and threatening to drown it.
Now the Malbim describes how those very sounds of mighty, surging waters, of deeps and crashing waves, are themselves crying out that Hashem's lovingkindness is ready and poised to arrive - even though it seemingly appears to be the exact opposite, since these are destructive deeps and waves. In truth, they are crying out, as it were: "By day Hashem commands His lovingkindness, and at night His song is with me, a prayer to the God of my life." This is what is meant by "deep calls to deep," which is why we read these two verses together: "Deep calls to deep at the roar of Your cataracts" - and what is it calling out? The subsequent verse. The trouble itself heralds the salvation; the deeps, the afflictions, and the waves announce what is yet to come: the salvation that the Holy One, blessed be He, will command in His lovingkindness. "By day Hashem commands His lovingkindness" - the day of lovingkindness, the day of salvation, will swiftly arrive. And the Malbim notes that salvation brought about through an open, renowned miracle is called chesed.
And in the deeper meaning: every trouble that befell Israel, the Malbim explains, brought them darkness at first, followed by the light of day. Such is the nature of reality - when distress arrives, the light is already embedded within it. In the era of Mordechai, a great catastrophe loomed, "to destroy, to slay, and to annihilate all the Jews," yet within that very darkness, the light was already marked out and beginning to dawn. When trouble strikes - prepare yourself, for in its wake comes His lovingkindness, a great benevolence and the salvation of Hashem. From this one learns that even in times of anguish, a person must never break and must never despair, for the trouble itself cries out and proclaims: know that salvation is about to spring forth.
The Malbim adds that King David testifies about himself: "and at night His song is with me." That is, the day represents the aspect of chessed, but I have not yet arrived there; still "Your breakers and Your waves passed over me." Even so, already in the night His song was with me. Night is always an expression of exile, hardship, and suffering - and do not think that in the phase of suffering I was in despair and only afterward merited chessed; that is not so, but rather already during the phase of suffering I sang and prayed to the God of my life. Already when the depths and the breakers mounted, I knew that chessed would follow them.
"And at night His song is with me" - The Explanations of Rashi and the Radak
Rashi presents an original explanation here. We are inclined immediately to understand "shirah" as singing and melody, and indeed the Malbim explained it that way. But Rashi explains "His song [shirah] is with me" to mean that His encampment will be among us: by day Hashem commands His lovingkindness to support us, and at night Hashem encamps with us. And how does the word "shirah" connote encamping? Rashi explains that shirah is an expression of encamping, as the Targum translates vayichan ("and he encamped") as ushra. This is also related to the phrase we use today, shoreh - Hashem dwells (shoreh) with us, Hashem encamps with us. Rashi adds that he learned this from the Masorah Gedolah, which linked this verse with "and his songs (shiro) were a thousand and five," where it is explained not as an expression of song, but as an expression of encamping.
On the other hand, Rashi does not depart entirely from the conventional understanding, bringing that Midrash Aggadah interprets it in the sense of song: thus the Jewish people say to the Holy One, blessed be He - remember what You did for us in Egypt. One mitzvah You commanded us by day, "By day Hashem will command His lovingkindness" - this is the mitzvah of the Korban Pesach, which we kept; and at night You redeemed us, and we ate the Pesach with our loins girded and our staffs in hand in haste, and as they ate the Pesach at night they recited Hallel. It turns out: by day I fulfilled the mitzvah, and at night "His song was with me" - we recited Hallel, singing and praising Hashem, blessed be He. From this arises the plea: for the sake of one mitzvah You redeemed us, yet today look at how many mitzvos we fulfill - so why do You still not redeem us? This explains the continuation of the verses: "I will say to God, my Rock, why have You forgotten me? Why do I walk in gloom under the oppression of the enemy?" Back then, on the night of Pesach, we fulfilled one mitzvah, sang and gave praise - and You redeemed us; today we fulfill many mitzvos, yet I feel as though You have forgotten me, and I walk in gloom under the oppression of the enemy.
The Radak explains that this entire description - "By day Hashem will command His lovingkindness, and at night His song is with me" - recounts their pilgrimage to Jerusalem. By day, as they traveled, Hashem would command His kindness upon them: they walked securely, found all their needs along the way, and lacked nothing. And at night, at the lodging place, "His song was with me" - they would sing and praise Hashem, blessed be He, each one offering "a prayer to the God of my life"; upon arriving at their resting place for the night, they gave thanks and praised Hashem.
The Radak offers another explanation: this verse is an answer to the soul. We saw: "Why are you downcast, my soul, and why do you stir within me?" - the soul had sunk into a state of dejection and lowliness, and therefore he encourages it: know that "By day Hashem will command His lovingkindness"; do not worry, the Holy One, blessed be He, will yet bestow kindness upon us. Salvation is always likened to chessed, while troubles and exile are likened to night. Do not despair of redemption, and know that even in this night, "His song is with me" - even in times of exile, Hashem's song is still with us; we praise and laud Hashem for all the kindnesses He has performed for us until now and that He continues to do for us even today while we are in exile, watching over us. We look forward and offer "a prayer to the God of my life" that He perform for us once again the kindnesses He did back when He redeemed us from Egypt, and that we may see His salvation once more. Do not be broken: by day Hashem will command His lovingkindness, and even if we are not yet in the "day" but still in the "night," we must still thank and praise Hashem for all the kindnesses He does with us today, and offer a prayer to the God of my life that He redeem us in the future as in the days of our exodus from the land of Egypt.
"Why Have You Forgotten Me?" - The External Pain and the Internal Pain
אוֹמְרָה לְאֵל סַלְעִי לָמָה שְׁכַחְתָּנִי לָמָּה קֹדֵר אֵלֵךְ בְּלַחַץ אוֹיֵב׃ - I will say to God, my Rock, "Why have You forgotten me? Why do I walk in gloom under the oppression of the enemy?"
According to the Radak, this verse is the continuation of the prayer: what is that "prayer to the God of my life"? It is this prayer - "I will say to God, my Rock." "My Rock" is always an expression of strength, my fortress, something upon which I rely, a rock in which one takes refuge. The Malbim explains: right now there are waves and breakers, and the chessed cannot be heard - and chessed, as we said, refers to miracles that transcend nature. Therefore, "I will say to God, my Rock, why have You forgotten me?" - why have You forgotten me and no longer perform miracles for me as You did in the past? "Why do I walk in gloom (koder)" - Rashi explains that this is an expression of blackness, walking around darkly, people with darkened, mourning faces.
And there are two reasons for this. The first: "under the oppression of the enemy" - the enemy oppresses me, torments me, and persecutes me. And the second is stated in the following verse.
בְּרֶצַח בְּעַצְמוֹתַי חֵרְפוּנִי צוֹרְרָי בְּאׇמְרָם אֵלַי כָּל הַיּוֹם אַיֵּה אֱלֹהֶיךָ׃ - Like murder in my bones, my adversaries taunt me, as they say to me all day, "Where is your God?"
This is the internal pain. The external pain is the oppression of the enemy, who subjugates and torments; but there is also internal pain, which is "in my bones," something that burns deep within the bones. And what causes it? The humiliations I receive from the nations, for "my adversaries taunt me" and bring up my disgrace, saying to me all day, "Where is your God?" - You have a God, your God is great, you are constantly telling stories; so where is your God? Why does He not rescue you, why does He not save you? This was also the claim of the Nazis, may their names and memory be erased, who, while torturing the Jewish people, said: You believe and trust in Hashem, so where is your God to save you from us? This has always been the claim of the nations, seeking to show superiority over the Jewish people: Where is your God, why does Hashem not perform miracles for you as He did in the past? Therefore, "like murder in my bones" - I walk like someone with murder in his bones, with internal pain from the humiliations and the tormenting questions of the enemies.
"Hope in God" - The Repeated Answer to the Soul
מַה תִּשְׁתּוֹחֲחִי נַפְשִׁי וּמַה תֶּהֱמִי עָלָי הוֹחִילִי לֵאלֹהִים כִּי עוֹד אוֹדֶנּוּ יְשׁוּעֹת פָּנַי וֵאלֹהָי׃ - "Why are you downcast, my soul, and why do you stir within me? Hope in God, for I shall yet thank Him, the salvations of my countenance and my God."
Now he answers his soul once again: "Why are you downcast" - why are you broken, why does my soul sink and descend to the dust, why do you despair? "And why do you stir within me" - as the Malbim explained on verse 6, the meaning is that the soul seemingly blames me, as if I am at fault for all the troubles that have come upon me. To this he says: Do not blame yourself for all these things, but rather, "Hope in God, for I shall yet thank Him" - wait for Hashem, for I will yet thank Him for "the salvations of my countenance and my God."
The Malbim explained there that we find different expressions: at times "my God" is mentioned, and at times merely "the salvations of His countenance." To restore the Shechinah, we ask for "the salvations of His countenance" - that Hashem shine His face upon us; and in order that He restore to us the salvations and miracles He performed for us in the past - "my countenance and my God." This is what he speaks of here: Master of the Universe, why have You forgotten me, and why do You not perform miracles for me as You did for me in the past? Therefore it says "my countenance and my God" - that Hashem turns His face toward my face, and He is also "my God" in terms of the miracles He performed specifically for me. For "Eloha" and "Elokim" pertain to the entire world, but when you say "my God" (Elohai), this refers to individual Divine providence over me, uniquely for me. Master of the Universe, why do You not perform miracles specifically for me, as in the days of old?
In summary:
In this part of the chapter, the Psalmist pours out his soul over two things: that he no longer merits running with alacrity and devotion to the House of Hashem as in days of old, and that there are no signs and wonders as in the days of the Jordan and the Hermon. To his downcast soul he responds with two points: Do not blame me, for salvation depends on the will of Hashem; and do not despair, for "hope" (hochili) is said regarding something that has been promised. The heart of the matter lies in the parable of the ship: the depths, waves, and billows themselves call out and herald "By day Hashem commands His lovingkindness" - that every trouble carries within it the beginning of the light, and therefore one must never break down and never despair. And as David testified about himself, already in the night, amidst suffering and exile, song and prayer to the God of his life were with him, out of the knowledge that lovingkindness follows in their wake.