Tehillim 42

Sung from a ledge in the pit

Tehillim 48, the psalm for Monday, tells who Korach was and that his sons did not die. The Gemara adds that a protected place was made for them in Gehinnom (the place of punishment after death), and they sat there and sang. Rashi (the main classic commentator on Tanach, France, died 1105) says they composed these psalms in that place, then came up.

Who is speaking, and from where?

The writer remembers walking up to the House of God in a crowd. Rashi and Radak both say this is the pilgrimage festivals, when people went up to the Temple. Radak (Rabbi David Kimchi, Provence, around 1200) mentions the view that David said it while in exile among the Philistines. He prefers a different one: it speaks for the people in exile, written as "I" so that each person in exile can say it. Rashi says the sons of Korach spoke it as a prophecy about the exiles and the destruction of the Temple.

The deer at the streams

Rashi quotes the Rabbis: the hind is the most pious of the animals. Thirsty animals gather around her. She digs a hole, puts her horns in and cries out, and God has compassion and the deep sends up water for her. Midrash Tehillim (an old midrash on Tehillim) says Korach's sons cried out from distress and were answered, like her. Ibn Ezra (Spain, 1100s): the deer eats snakes, heats up inside, and seeks strong streams.

"I will appear" is a passive verb

In verse 3 the writer asks, "When will I come and appear before God?" The Hebrew is ve'era'eh, "and I will be seen." The Torah uses the same form for the pilgrimage command: three times a year all your males "appear" before God. Ibn Ezra ties this verse to that command. The Gemara reads the command as: the way you come to see, you come to be seen.

Deep calls to deep: two readings

Rashi reads it as trouble: "one trouble calls to the next." The Gemara hears water. Rabbi Elazar says that when the water was poured out on Sukkot, the deep says to its friend, "Let your waters out, I hear the voice of two friends." Bereishit Rabbah (an early midrash) has Rabbi Shimon ben Elazar say each handbreadth of rain is met by water rising two handbreadths, quoting this verse. Metzudat David (a commentary from the 1700s) reads trouble: the next arrives before the first has left.

Night: song, or camp?

Verse 9 says that at night "His song is with me." Rashi gives two readings. The Midrash takes the word as song. Rashi himself, following the Masorah (the old notes on how Tanach's words are written), says it means a camp or stay: may His camp be among us, in the darkness of the trouble. Ibn Ezra says they sang at night. Rebbe Nachman of Breslov (a Chassidic master who died in 1810) used the song reading. His verse for the kind of song called shir is this one. The Tikkun opening page tells his story.

Wanting is already praying

Rabbi Kalonymus Kalman Shapira (the Piaseczner Rebbe, a Chassidic rebbe in Poland who was murdered in the Holocaust in 1943) says the verse is not just comparing prayer to a thirsty deer's cry. Any wish for something you lack, he writes, is already prayer. You cannot want what is out of reach: an ordinary person does not wish to be king. So every wish exists because the soul knows, deep down, that it can be filled. And who can fill it? God. Now read "my soul longs" again.

רק כל רצון על מחסור הוא ענין תפלה... לכן כל רצון הוא מפני שיודעת הנפש בפנימיותה שיכול הדבר להתמלאות

One deer's cry for rain

Rabbi Shimon, the sage at the center of the Zohar (the central book of Kabbalah), says there is one deer on earth for whom God does a great deal. When she cries, God hears her distress and accepts her voice. And when the world needs mercy in the form of water, she raises her voice, God hears it, and He has pity on the world. Rabbi Shimon says this is what the verse means: "As a deer longs for streams of water." Now read the first line again.

וכד אצטריך עלמא לרחמי למייא, היא יהבת קלין, וקב"ה שמע קלה, וכדין חייס על עלמא

To see, or to be seen

The Mei HaShiloach (a Chassidic book from Izhbitz, Poland, by Rabbi Mordechai Yosef Leiner, who died in 1854) notices the verb in verse 3. It does not say "I will see" the face of God, which would mean he hopes to look at it. It says "and I will appear," a form that means to be seen. So the longing, he explains, is that he himself should appear like the face of God, as God wishes. Now read "and appear" again.

רק כתיב ואראה שהיה משתוקק שיהיה הוא נראה כפני אלהים כרצון השי"ת

The smallest hour is the turning point

Rabbi Natan of Breslov (Rebbe Nachman's main student, died 1844) cites this psalm in his teaching on rising at midnight. At that hour the Divine Presence, which he calls the sum of all the souls of Israel, is at its smallest, and it cries out like the deer. God then stirs His compassion and draws a thread of kindness. Those who rise at midnight, he adds, take that power with them: whatever has happened, they can always wake up from inside the smallness, through the little good they still find in themselves. Now read the first line again.

שאז השכינה שהיא כלליות נפשות ישראל בתכלית הקטנות והמעוט, ואז היא צועקת בקול מר להשם־יתברך

Singing is what keeps you praying

Rabbi Natan (Rebbe Nachman's main student) reads "at night His song is with me" as describing our own time, the long night before the world is renewed. Even now, he says, the song is with us. The songs and praises we say are our life, he writes, and they keep the soul going through the bitterness of exile. That is the meaning of "a prayer to the God of my life": through song we find the strength to pray and to cry out about how long it is taking. Now read "His song is with me" again.

אשר רק הם חיינו ומשיב נפשנו להתקים במרירת הגלות הזה

This psalm is about crying. Can I pray when I'm sad?

The Gemara (the early rabbis' discussions, about 1,500 years old) says not to stand up to pray out of sadness, laziness, laughter or idle talk, but out of the joy of a mitzvah. The Tur (a law code from the 1300s) says this is why we say Ashrei and the opening psalms first. The Gemara also teaches that since the Temple fell, the gates of prayer are locked but the gates of tears are not. Seder HaYom (a book on the day's prayers, printed in 1599) says that crying as you plead will certainly not go back empty.

How long should I stay in this sad mood?

This is Breslov teaching, not a ruling in the law codes. Rebbe Nachman of Breslov (a Chassidic teacher who died in 1810) writes in Likutei Moharan II:24 that it is a great mitzvah to be happy always and to push sadness away. A broken heart is good, he says, but only for a set hour each day, to pour out your words before God. The rest of the day should be joyful, because a broken heart slips into gloom more easily than joy slips into frivolity.

It says "at night His song is with me." Must I learn at night?

The basic duty is a set time for Torah study by day and by night, and when pressed even Shema morning and evening counts (Shulchan Aruch, the main code of Jewish law). The Rambam (Maimonides, 1100s) says that whoever wants the crown of Torah should guard his nights, since most wisdom is gained then. He quotes this verse for the Sages' teaching that night learning draws a thread of God's kindness over you by day. He also says eight hours of sleep is enough.

Is this psalm said at other times in davening?

In some places, yes. The Tur describes a custom in Spain: a psalm near the end of the morning prayers changed by occasion, and Ke'ayal ta'arog was the one for Chol HaMoed, the middle days of a festival. Knesset HaGedolah (a law book, Turkey, 1600s), quoted in Ba'er Hetev (printed with the Shulchan Aruch), saw this "in all places" but said not to drop the Levites' daily Temple psalm: say both. Abudarham (Seville, 1300s) adds it to the Pesach morning psalms, since its festive crowd recalls the pilgrims in Jerusalem.

Which days of a festival is it said?

Customs differ. The Prisha (a commentary on the Tur, Poland, around 1600) says to say it on Chol HaMoed but not on Yom Tov, the full festival days, because the verse says "I will pass" with the crowd to God's house, and on Yom Tov such travel is forbidden. Kaf HaChaim (a Sephardic law commentary from the early 1900s) records a custom to add it to the morning psalms on the first day of Sukkot. Siddur Edot HaMizrach, a Sephardic siddur, prints it as the psalm for Sukkot.

Is it part of the midnight prayers?

In the Sephardic custom, yes. Kaf HaChaim gives the order of Tikkun Chatzot, the midnight vigil of mourning for the Temple, following the Arizal (Rabbi Yitzchak Luria, the Kabbalist of Safed, 1500s). After Tikkun Rachel, the lament, Tikkun Leah begins with this psalm. On the night of Rosh Chodesh, or on days without Tachanun (the daily plea after the Amidah), you do not mourn, so you say only four psalms: this one, then 24, 67 and 111, and then learn Torah. Their first letters make the memory sign K-L-A-H.