The custom is to read “David’s Song” (II Samuel ch. 22) as the haftara for Parshat Haazinu, which itself consists of Moshe’s parting song to the people of Israel. The themes of the two songs are different: Moshe’s song is a severe message of warning and reprimand; David’s song in the haftara is a joyous paean thanking God for His generosity and salvation. However, there are many parallels between the songs’ authors that are worth exploring; as a deeper understanding of these songs sheds light on how man and God work together, a concept that is especially crucial for strengthening our resilience in these difficult times for the Jewish people.
The similarity between Moshe Rabbeinu and David Hamelekh is rooted first and foremost in their parallel roles. Both were strong military, political, and religious leaders who ruled over a united Jewish people. The two men shared a background as well, both beginning their career as shepherds and being chosen to lead Israel at least in part based on the qualities that made them excel in that calling. This similarity is pointed out explicitly by the Midrash (Shemot Rabba 2:3):
The Holy One blessed be He said to David: “You have been found trustworthy with the flocks, come and herd My flock,” as it is stated: “From the suckling ewes He brought him” (Psalms 78:71). Likewise, regarding Moshe it says: “He led the flock deep into the wilderness” – to distance them from theft [by grazing them far from fields belonging to others] – and the Holy One blessed be He took him to herd Israel, as it is stated: “You led Your people like a flock in the hand of Moshe and Aharon” (Psalms 77:21).
Other connections between Moshe and David abound. Moshe conveyed to Israel the five books of the Torah, while David authored the Psalms, which are themselves arranged into five books. The Talmud (Sanhedrin 98b) teaches that the entire world was founded on the merit of Moshe, or perhaps of David – the issue is contested between Rav and Shmuel. According to the Talmud in tractate Bava Batra (14b), some of the Psalms themselves were composed by Moshe – think for example of Psalm 90, “A prayer of Moshe, the man of God” – making the two leaders partners in the creation of that masterpiece as well.
Both the Mosaic and the Davidic songs speak of God’s miraculous salvation. In the former, it is foretold that God will intervene in history to end the suffering and exile brought on by the Israelites’ faithless behavior. In the latter, the king extols God’s wondrous acts that saved him personally from those who sought to destroy him.
But a notable feature of David’s song, as opposed to Moshe’s, is that it gives a central role to the agency of David himself. Sometimes, in the poem, his character is viewed as helpless and passive, waiting to be saved by an all-powerful God: “Snares of death confronted me // in my distress I called on the Lord” (vv. 6–7). But at others we are confronted with David’s prodigious strength, and shown what can be accomplished when it is aided and enhanced by God’s grace: “With You I can rush a ridge / with my God I can leap over a wall” (v. 30). David’s approach thus emphasizes seeing and appreciating the hand of God in our own active accomplishments, understanding that the source of our own might and power lies outside and above us.
In an article on this haftara (תורת הר עציון/VBM, “עיון ההתפטרות 63”) Rabbi Yaakov Medan points out that this dynamic tension, between human and divine action, is in fact the subject of the interplay in many of the instances of kri ukativ – where a word is written one way, but pronounced in another. There are multiple examples of this in David’s song. For example, in verse 33, “God is my powerful stronghold; / He frees my way [דַּרְכִּי] so it is sound,” the word דַּרְכִּי is written דרכו, which literally means “His way.” Is the focus of the verse the human way of action, or the divine way? The ambiguity of the text helps emphasize the tension between the role of humankind and of God.
The ability to understand that our efforts and struggles call for a partnership between us and God is especially relevant today. In our challenging situation of protracted war, which demands the ceaseless active efforts of so many people, both on the battlefield and on the home front, it is easy to look at our successes and achievements as the simple results of our hard work and innate abilities.
David’s song provides us with the answer. God’s miracles cannot come to fruition without our own reciprocal commitment to take initiative, to strive, and to use the powers He has given us for good. Throughout this war, we have seen God’s infinite strength poured into our brothers and sisters, our spouses, our children and grandchildren, allowing them to achieve things that we never imagined possible. The miraculous power of God is thus made manifest every day, in the ingenious designers and deployers of the Iron Dome, in the tireless energy of the mother of six who holds her entire household on her shoulders for months at a time, in the heroic bystander who jumps into the line of fire to save lives during a terrorist attack.
This dynamic of Divine support empowering human action, what we call resilience, is just as vital in the hidden struggles of mental health. Here too, human courage, professional care and robust community support are indispensable, yet every spark of resilience is a gift from the One who “stirs us with power.” Our task is to act unhesitatingly, to seek help and to offer support as needed, and to dismantle the stigmas that surround inner struggle, all while trusting the ultimate source of our strength.
All of these modern Davids sing wordlessly, no matter which battlefield they fight on: “You gave me the shield of Your victory; / Your battle cry stirred me with power. / You made my steps broad and firm; / my feet never faltered” (vv. 36–37).