The three remaining perakim attributed to Moshe have a common theme:
The Artscroll translation makes this a declaration about the future:
And that is usually the way we take that statement of ה׳ מָלָךְ:
But there is the familiar line that puts the three tenses together:
And that makes it clear that we read ה׳ מָלָךְ not as the prophetic perfect but as the past. The problem with trying to interpret it is that it is not a pasuk in תנ״ך; it is a combination of three psukim. The past we quoted above; there is one more, in the middle of a perek but also one of the perakim attributed to Moshe:
The present is in תהילים:
And the future is in שירת הים:
So we (at least in the liturgy) understand ה׳ מָלָךְ as referring to the past. We can understand what it means to say ה׳ is king, and will be king; a good part of the Rosh Hashana liturgy is declaring ה׳ king:
ה׳ is king now, because we accept Him as king. ה׳ will be king לעתיד לבא, when the entire world accepts Him.
But then what does it mean that ה׳ was king, before anyone accepted Him? There is an idea that pervades the writings of the Maharal:
ה׳ מָלָךְ from the time of creation, not from קבלת עול מלכות, but from the fact that it is ה׳'s השגחה that gives order and purpose to the universe and makes it a unified whole. מלך here is a metaphor for what it means to have laws of physics and a predictable universe.
So let’s look at the first perek in this series:
It’s hard to figure out how this holds together: it starts with
ה׳ has reigned; His throne has been set since creation. That fits with the theme of ה׳ מָלָךְ. But then there are two psukim about loud water, then the בית המקדש is built. What’s with the water praising ה׳?
It’s interesting that the first mention of G-d as King, along with the first mention of the בית המקדש, is in the celebration of ה׳'s control of the water:
There is an important symbolism in ה׳'s control of the water.
The תכלת of ציצית reminds us of three things: the ים, the רקיע, and the כסא הכבוד. But the proof text that the gemara brings only mentions רקיע, and the כסא הכבוד.
The כלי יקר says that ים and רקיע, as servants of הקב״ה, represent two different ways of serving.
We look at the ים and appreciate ה׳'s מדת הדין, imposing structure and order on the universe.
It’s interesting that many cultures have, as part of their creation myths, a common theme.
Hermann Gunkel, a German Lutheran, compared the Hebrew Bible to other near eastern religions and noted that the pagan mythologies all had a creation myth that started with a great battle between the sky god and the sea god (usually a serpent or dragon), that ended with the defeat of the dragon and the creation of the world. He called that the Chaoskampf, the “Chaos Battle”, because the sea represents the chaos of the unformed world that has to be subdued by the sky god, representing order.
And that seems to be what בראשית is describing:
This doesn’t mean that the Torah is derived from paganism; just the opposite is true. Pagan mythology is a degenerate version of the truth that humanity once knew.
Creation, as described by the Torah, was the בריאה יש מאין of unformed matter (called חומר), then the six days of imposing order, form, on it (called צורה).
The Maharal, in many places, says that water in this sense is the symbol of חומר.
מקלות מים רבים אדירים משברי ים; אדיר במרום ה׳ is the fact that ה׳ created יש מאין, then imposed order on chaos, צורה on חומר, in creation, culminating in the human being who would go on to create a space for ה׳ to exist in that created world, לביתך נאוה קדש.
The next perek looks at the consequence of ה׳ מָלָךְ: the world should rejoice about creation:
We’ve talked before about כסא ה׳ as a symbol of ה׳‘s manifestation in the world. But that usually isn’t visible. ה׳’s hand in nature is hidden behind the scenes.
But the hand of ה׳ isn’t always invisible. We can see it if we look.
But if we look carefully, we see that (תהילים יט:ב) השמים מספרים כבוד א־ל; ומעשה ידיו מגיד הרקיע. So to here, הגידו השמים צדקו.
Don’t be fooled by the apparent existence of אלוהים, the multiplicity of forces in the universe. They all השתחוו לו כל אלהים. As the Maharal said, המלך הוא המקשר את מלכותו עד שהכל אחד.
And then we have the volta: the perek starts talking about ציון. I haven’t found any commentators who are bothered by this; if the perek was written by Moshe, how could it mention a place that would not exists for another 400 years? I would assume that the second half of the perek was written by David, and talks about the Jewish people react to the realization that ה׳ מלך. The perek starts with תגל הארץ; ישמחו איים רבים, a universal message. Now we see how we should react.
It’s the same שמחה and גילה that ה׳ rules על כל אלהים. But the difference is that we’re supposed to do something with that joy:
Acceptance of ה׳ מלך should lead to us being אהבי ה׳:
And that leads to שנאו רע and ישרי לב.
The last ה׳ מלך perek is even harder to attribute to Moshe, because it jumps right in to the mention of ציון:
And then mentions Shmuel by name:
So I would assume we have the skeleton of the original psalm written by Moshe:
Here it is not אהבת ה׳ and תגל הארץ, but יראת ה׳ and ירגזו עמים. Loving ה׳ means yearning to be close to Him, but that is impossible, so that love inextorably leads to awe and a feeling of distance:
And that is connected to the משכן and מקדש, the כרובים, the הר קדשו and especially the הדם רגליו. We pointed out that while the symbolism of G-d “sitting” on a “throne” is of ה׳'s actions in the world, the “footstool” that G-d “rests” on is the actions of human beings in the world. We are the כרובים that carry כבוד ה׳ on the earth. Again, ה׳ מלך implies a responsibility to be His emissaries in the world.
And so David adds the verses that make that mission specific to בני ישראל: