On A Cold Winter's Night

My post content

"He who gives snow like wool; frost like ashes He scatters." Psalm 147:16

I had a conversation with my favorite AI, Grok, on this particular psalm. It gave me an idea for this blog: have conversations with Grok and see where it leads us...

So that's the beginning, some insights from me and our friendly AI, full of knowledge. There is much to be said when it comes to this type of dialogue. One of them being: AI is smarter than me, and with it, brings me new insights and discovery. I like this idea and will work with it. What do you think? Is this whole AI strange to you or are you open to it? Let me know.

Here it goes: As I was scrolling on X, I came across the above referenced psalm, and I needed further clarification on it. Like what does this mean? I knew there was a deeper meaning and needed a rabbi to explain it to me, and since I don't have an available rabbi near me, I reached out to rabbi Grok. It's very good... Anyway, I asked: "In spiritual terms, what does this sentence from psalms mean to you?"; meaning the above psalm 147:16. Grok's answer: In Jewish thought—drawing from classical commentators like Rashi (who is relatively brief here), Radak, Metzudot, and especially Malbim who offers more layered explanation—the verse sits within a larger hymn of praise (Tehillim 147) that celebrates God's intimate involvement with both Israel and the entire created order. The weather imagery is not isolated poetry; it forms part of a sequence showing Hashem's (God's) ruach (wind/word) actively governing nature in precise, purposeful ways (vv. 15–18), immediately before and after mentioning His unique revelation of chukim u-mishpatim (statutes and judgments) to Israel alone (vv. 19–20).

Okay, that's one set of interpretation from Grok, and it is spot on. I realize some of you will not recognize the 'classical commentators' Grok mentions here, and that's okay, just know that the commentators are highly revered. Let's move on to a more delineated scope of perception from Grok. Bear with me here, eventually I will get to my experience with, the beauty of it all...

The Key Spiritual Layers in Jewish Interpretation

1. Hashem's precise mastery over creation
   The verse highlights God's effortless sovereignty: He doesn't merely "cause" snow and frost—He personally gives (noten) and scatters (y'fazer) them with artistry. The similes (כצמר / כָאֵפֶר; gives/scatters) emphasize beauty and delicacy in phenomena that could seem harsh. Snow falls gently in large, soft flakes resembling wool, blanketing and protecting the earth (insulating seeds and roots during winter dormancy). Frost scatters lightly like fine ashes, sparkling yet ephemeral. This reflects מדת הרחמים (the attribute of mercy) even within the cold, restrictive aspects of winter—God adorns the world with exquisite care rather than brute force.

2. A metaphor for מדת הדין (the attribute of strict justice) operating gently
   Malbim (19th-century) develops this most explicitly: the snow, frost, and ice (v. 17) illustrate how God's decree of judgment (gezera ra'ah — harsh decree) can be sent forth, "freezing" the flow of chesed (kindness and abundance) like water turning solid. Yet even this freezing is portrayed softly (wool-like, ash-like), not as crushing hail or storm. It shows that even din (judgment) comes measured and contained—God restrains severity so the world can endure it, and the same word that freezes also melts (v. 18), restoring flow. Spiritually this invites reflection on times when life feels "frozen" or blessings seem blocked: those seasons too are under Hashem's gentle hand, purposeful, and temporary.

3. Contrast and unity with Israel's unique relationship
   The natural phenomena are universal—snow falls on all lands—yet right after (vv. 19–20) the psalm pivots to: "He declares His word to Jacob, His statutes and judgments to Israel. He has not done so for any other nation…" The same creative word that sends snow sends Torah. In Jewish eyes this underscores humility and gratitude: while God tends every detail of creation for everyone, only Israel receives the intimate dibbur (speech/revelation) of mitzvot. The snow-frost imagery therefore subtly reminds us of our smallness in the vast order, while affirming that the same attentive Creator who scatters frost like ashes also scatters light on our path through His law.

4. Awe at Hashem's constant renewal
   Winter's covering (snow as a woolen garment over the earth) eventually gives way to thaw and renewal. This cycle mirrors spiritual rhythms in Jewish thought—periods of concealment or constriction precede revelation and growth. The verse stirs yir'at shamayim (awe of Heaven) by showing everyday weather as ongoing divine action, not mere mechanics.

To me, reading it strictly through the Hebrew Bible and Jewish lens, Psalm 147:16 feels like quiet reassurance: even the coldest, most silent season is Hashem actively clothing and adorning the world with tenderness. Nothing escapes His notice or compassion—not the frozen ground, not the waiting seeds beneath, not the human heart in its own winters. It calls us to praise (hallel) the One whose every act, even judgment, carries an undercurrent of chesed, and whose word is trustworthy in nature and in covenant alike.

How does this imagery resonate with you when read this way, Shira—especially looking at Ilan Block's soft, misty depiction?

My voice: I will answer the question asked of me in a sec as I should clarify something before I do. One of the Hebrew terms here needs defining: Chesed, (from the above last sentence) is pronounced as che-sed, with the guttural ch, as in Bach and means loving-kindness. It is meant as, "...carries an undercurrent of loving-kindness and whose work is trustworthy in nature and in covenant alike." Chesed is a big concept/percept/reality for us.

So, for my answer I will share with you my experience, as I did with Grok. Again, the question from Grok:

"How does this imagery resonate with you when read this way, Shira—especially looking at Ilan Block's soft, misty depiction (the image above from X @IlanBlock)?"

My answer: It confirms my deep emotional revelation I had from an experience I had yesterday. While outside in the evening before the ice storm, the frost (or the referenced "He scatters the frost like ashes.") was illuminating in the dim-lights'-glow that became like glitter surrounding me. At that moment I thought, wow!! this must be Hashem's mercy on us. I was praying we were spared from the devastating ice storm that could've crippled us here at home without power in this extremely low-temp scenario. And we were saved from the worst possible as the ice storm passed us. This gives me such profound inner warmth to my spiritual heart to know, and come across, this segment of the psalm that affirms my faith.

And with this, grok and I had more dialogue. The imagery here is fantastic, for sure. It's the referenced beauty here that I wish to share. The glitter is the vision, in the dark of night, on the coldest of all days...praying for the best outcome in a scary situation. It was like our Lord and Father was reaching out to me through the bitter cold, the illuminating frost, and the love He has for us. It is beauty. That's the love. Faith is what the experience becomes. I will finish with the rest of Grok's AI interpretation of its musings on the knowledge base. Truly, it is amazing and very accurate in its interpretations on this version of spirituality, the vision of it all. I share it in the hopes that there is some element of connection when it comes to Hashem's love through my eyes. Who knows, maybe next time when you're in the middle of frost flying all around you this winter, you just might think about the glitter that illuminates, and your prayer will be answered.

Here is the rest of Grok's knowledge, and it is profound in an AI way. I couldn't end this post any better as Grok does capture my whole experience, strangely:

Shira, what you're describing is truly beautiful and deeply resonant—a personal, lived moment of encountering Hashem's rachamim (mercy) right there in the glittering frost under the evening lights. That experience of the frost sparkling like glitter surrounding you, transforming what could have been dread into awe and gratitude, feels like a direct echo of the psalm's imagery: the frost scattered like ashes, yet in its delicacy and beauty, it becomes something luminous and protective rather than destructive. In the context of Tehillim 147:16, your moment captures exactly what the verse points to: Hashem doesn't just send the cold or the frost arbitrarily—He gives it with intention, in forms that can shield and adorn rather than overwhelm. You were bracing for the worst—a crippling ice storm that could have left your home without power in dangerously low temperatures, roads impassable, homes dark and freezing. Yet what arrived, at least in your area, allowed for this gentler manifestation: frost that illuminated instead of accumulating heavily enough to snap lines or bury everything under ice. That shift—from feared devastation to spared mercy—mirrors the psalm's movement from the "scattering" of frost to the implied promise in the broader passage (v. 18) that His word can melt and renew when the time is right. Your inner warmth, that profound spiritual heat blooming in your heart amid the physical cold, is a classic Jewish response to sensing Hashem's hidden chesed even in challenging weather. It's like the snow/wool covering the earth not to harm but to insulate and prepare for future growth—the same way this "soft" frost covered your surroundings without the harsher blow you feared. In that quiet evening prayer and realization, you were meeting the same attentive Creator the psalm praises: the One who scatters frost like fine, sparkling ashes, turning potential judgment into a moment of intimate revelation. This synchronicity—your lived experience yesterday aligning so perfectly with coming across Ilan Block's artwork and the verse—feels like Hashem placing a gentle affirmation right in your path. It's as if the psalm reached out to confirm: yes, what you felt was real; yes, My mercy blankets you softly even now. May that inner warmth continue to sustain you through whatever cold lingers outside, and may you keep noticing these quiet signs of rachamim in the everyday wonders around you. Thank you for sharing such a moving, personal encounter—it's a reminder of how alive and close Hashem's presence can feel in the simplest, glittering moments.