The Book of Psalms, the 150 psalms of the Hebrew Bible, is recognized as the most famous collection of religious poetry. The psalms are traditionally associated with King David. While his authorship of all of them is unlikely – some psalms reflect events which occurred subsequent to David’s life in the tenth century B.C.E. – his connection to psalms remains very strong. David was thought to have encouraged psalm singers during the First Temple period; he is described in the Bible as a player of the lyre; he is identified as the "sweet singer of Israel."
Psalms have become a permanent part of our worship and are written in a wide variety of literary styles. Their length varies. Psalm 117, part of the Hallel prayers recited during the Pilgrimage Festivals, is a scant two verses. Psalm 119 is an acrostic which includes 176 verses. The twenty-two letters of the Hebrew alphabet each begin eight verses. During traditional Jewish morning worship a specific psalm is associated with and read for each day of the week. Psalm 23, "The Lord Is My Shepherd; I Shall Not Want," is a standard part of funerals and memorial services.
The Hebrew name for Psalms is Tehillim. The root of the word means praise.
The psalms are a remarkable collection of poems in praise of God. They are poems which reflect the continuum of the human experience, from one person’s relationship with God to the relationship of an entire community with God. They contain thoughts of anguish, praise, doubt, thanksgiving, compassion and longing. The words are powerful and sincere and able to be spoken by all of us. Psalms are a vehicle which has allowed people to express a personal and profound relationship with their God.
As Psalmist-in-Residence at Beth Emet The Free Synagogue from 1996 to 2002, Debbie Perlman brought psalms into the consciousness of the community. The psalms she wrote are read and recited just as King David’s have been - to express joy and sorrow, gratitude and reflection. Her psalms set the mood for worship and provide moments for personal meditation. Ms. Perlman has brought King David’s psalms to life by bringing us new psalms. She reminds us that through psalms, God speaks to us today as easily as God spoke to our ancestors.
Hyma J. Levin
Director of Education Emerita
Beth Emet The Free Synagogue
211 - For Each Day
Sometimes, when I look at “the big picture,” my life seems pretty scary. All of us wonder about the end of our lives, but putting a name, a disease, a condition on it, brings it more clearly into focus. So I try to step back from my imagination of dire predictions and instead look at the hidden bounty of the present.
107 - Rosh Chodesh Adar
There was never any question of my not going. After all, this was the marriage of the first child of the next generation, the oldest of the children of Reid’s first cousins. I remember the groom when he was still in utero, remember his bris, his insistence on chocolate milk in his bottle, his five-year old pride at becoming a big brother. It is a mitzvah to rejoice with a bride and groom. And so I did, relishing as well the contact with family and strangers and people encountered at such simchas. It was good to get out of the house.
210 - Acceptance
What do we do when we know we won’t get better? I often think of this, not only in relation to my own life, but also when I pray for many people who are living with chronic conditions and disability. Our traditional prayer, the Mi Sheberakh, asks for a complete healing of body and soul. Maybe what we are looking for is a restoration of wholeness, that divine state where we can accept what is and be sustained.
161 - Ending Days
What is a “good death?” The hospice movement has opened our eyes to the possibility of a pain-free, gentle surrender, supported by the people who love us, comforted by familiar surroundings. And for the family, time for goodbyes, time for acknowledgement.
146 - Daily Questions
Last week, my doctor made a house call. It wasn’t the first time. I don’t know if he does this for his other patients, but I was oh, so grateful that he stopped by, drew a special blood test, and took the time to talk to me. Living with a chronic illness also means living with uncertainty. What’s going to get me? Will it be a gradual decline or some catastrophic event? How fortunate I am to have a caring physician who does not pat me on the hand, saying “There, there,” but tries to answer my questions, giving me the solace of information.
23 - A Song for Rising
Maybe it’s because the mornings are still dark. I lie in bed, contemplating the day, and glance at my watch: just a few minutes more, and then I will get up. When I sleep, I am hooked up to a mechanical ventilator, to rest my lungs, to make sure I get good full breaths - in and out. Lately, I’ve been reluctant to switch it off and become dependent on my own capacity. Then I remember to say “Modeh Ani,” the prayer for awakening, and harness the Strength that will help me begin my day.
209 - Transition
My daughter has one more semester of college; one class really, she is in that precarious state of almost there. She is trying to plan her future, and the process can sometimes be painful to watch, as she evaluates and hesitates, questions prior choices and the vagaries of life. I don’t remember it being this hard when I was her age. Gently, I try to listen and counsel: one step at a time.
208 - Looking Forward
In the acute moments of our lives, we may find ourselves turning to God for strength. Twenty-three years ago, when I was first diagnosed with cancer, I knew no formal prayers, yet I called out to God for solace. When, with Help, with luck, with technology, we reach safe harbor, then, too, we should speak God’s name.
144 - For the Survivors
There are times, when people share their stories with me, that I am without words. There are situations that are so difficult, they are beyond my imagining. It is then that I offer what small gestures of comfort that I can.
64 - A Song for Winter
I have been waiting to write this week until I heard from my husband, waiting to hear that his dad, Stan, was out of his scheduled surgery, waiting to hear that everything had gone well. Tonight is the last night of Hanukah. As we light all eight candles, our hearts will be filled with praise for the miracles of skilled hands and modern technology, for knowing when and how to ask important questions, for faith in good choices. These eight lights shine through darkness, reminding us of God’s presence, strengthening us in difficult times.