The Unexpected Psalm of Thanksgiving

A little over a year ago, I was facing a deadline for this column, and I had no idea what to write about. There was not much new in the news when it came to the Jewish world. In Israel, citizens were still engaged in a bitter political debate about judicial matters, but I had already written about the issue to the extent that I was comfortable.

I had nothing, so I decided to write about a small bit of pop culture, a video of a recent episode of Jeopardy! in which three contestants, obviously educated people, could not identify the scriptural source for the most famous of biblical verses: “Yea, though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death, I will fear no evil, for Thou art with me.” I proceeded to write my column, examining why the Psalms were so essential for the advancement of civilization and why it is still important today to remember that God accompanies us in the valley of the shadow of death.

I went back to check the date on which I wrote and submitted the piece. It was October 6, 2023, just before the outset of the festival of Shemini Atzeret. Only a few hours later, the Jewish people would sojourn into the valley of the shadow of death. I found myself, on the morning of October 7, with only fragments of information, instructing my congregation to engage in a liturgical activity I could not really recall doing before on a festival day: reciting psalms of distress. Saying such psalms on Shabbat and the holidays as a form of beseeching is permitted in Jewish law only in times of great crisis; and I could certainly not have predicted that such psalms, rather than joyous ones, would become our weekly fare. For these psalms have been said in my synagogue—and in many around the Jewish world—on Sabbath after Sabbath, and so it will seemingly continue for the foreseeable future.