The opening prayer of the service for removing the Torah from the ark contains a wonderful blend of universal and particular perspectives—a common theme in the siddur.
On the one hand, we praise the unique G-d who rules the entire universe for all time. G-d is, was, and will be the King forever [Elvis notwithstanding—no offense meant].
On the other hand, the text continues: “G-d will give strength to His people, G-d will bless His people with peace.” How remarkable! After describing the G-d of all time and space, we focus in on the G-d of a little people living in a country the size of a postage stamp on a little planet in a little corner of a little galaxy. And, no surprise here, the manifestation of that particularistic G-d’s activities is the rebuilding of the walls of Jerusalem—yet one more indication of the consistent proto-Zionism of the siddur.
The juxtaposition of the universal and the particular is very clear, abruptly shifting and sharply defined. It would appear that they are two irreconcilable opposites. But no. The next paragraph underscores the relationship between them: “Av harachamim” “Father of mercy.” The G-d of the universe, in our tradition, is not just a powerful G-d. He is a merciful G-d. Not just to us, the “chosen,” but to all. This echoes the theme of Baruch sheamar, at the beginning of Pesukei d’zimra, where we blessed G-d, “Who shows compassion to the world, Who shows compassion to His creatures.”
It is hard to imagine a more life-affirming perspective than the idea that the universe mirrors the compassionate quality of its Creator. The Torah, the symbol of G-d’s authority, is at the same time the symbol of G-d’s compassion. Hence both ideas are brought to bear as we begin the formal, triumphal fanfare of the Torah service.