As one might expect, the return of the Torah to the ark shares the same sense of pomp and circumstance as the processional when it was first taken out. We recite Psalm 29 as the Torah is walked around the sanctuary. This psalm has a remarkable history. It appears to be the case that it was originally a Canaanite psalm, praising the god Baal. The divine name was changed to Ad-nai, but many of the pagan motifs remain (one example is the opening line, “Praise G-d all you divine beings” which fits really well in the pagan world, but requires a lot of forced commentary to make it fit into our monotheistic one.)

This shouldn’t surprise us. We have always taken cultural creations—poems, melodies, stories—from other cultures, and adapted them to our own. Think “Aleynu”—the opening melody is an old German drinking song (you can almost hear the “oompapa oompapa” in the background); and the second part (“Shehu noteh shamayim”) is a variant on “Itsy bitsy spider.” Who knew? But taking an actual prayer to a pagan god and making it “kosher” is a pretty gutsy move.

In any case, the prayer itself is fascinating. It is a hymn to divine power, the overwhelming presence of G-d, all exemplified by the divine voice. That voice is described as chthonic and epically forceful, smashing forests and literally earth-shaking. But the use of this psalm in connection to the Torah reading is an example of zeugma, a literary device that uses the same word in two radically different contexts. The Torah is the closest we come to the “voice of G-d.” Still it is hardly “earth-shattering” in the sense of causing geological earthquakes. But, but…the voice of G-d as expressed in the Torah has indeed been “earth-shattering” in the civilizational sense—after all, it shaped Western culture. The psalm serves thereby as a reminder and a symbol of the power of the Torah we just read.

One final note: it is often the case that in sacred texts G-d’s name appears 7 times (or a multiple of 7), 7 indicating a sense of wholeness and completion. Here, it is not the case that G-d’s name is mentioned 7 times, but “kol,” “voice,” does indeed appear 7 times instead. This may well reveal a sophisticated theological understanding that the G-d who tromps through nature is no longer visible to us—but the G-d of the voice is still speaking, whenever we are quiet enough to listen for it.