The Israelites knew that feeling intimately. Our story begins in just such a place: "The Lord spoke to Moses in the wilderness of Sinai, in the Tent of Meeting, on the first of the second month, in the second year of their exodus from the land of Egypt, saying" (Numbers 1:1).
Why the wilderness? Why there, of all places?
Bamidbar Rabbah, a collection of rabbinic teachings on the Book of Numbers, dives right into this question, connecting it to a verse from Psalms: "Your righteousness is like the mighty mountains; Your justice is like the great depths" (Psalms 36:7). The text draws a fascinating parallel between God's righteousness, visible and towering like mountains, and God's justice, often hidden and mysterious like the depths of the ocean.
Rabbi Meir, a sage known for his sharp intellect, takes this idea further. He suggests that the "great depths" refer to the punishment of the wicked. It's a place of concealment. He finds analogies for both the righteous and the wicked in the words of the prophet Ezekiel. For the righteous: "In a good pasture I will herd them, and on the mountains of the height of Israel will be their grazing place" (Ezekiel 34:14). A place of elevation, of nourishment, of clear visibility.
But for the wicked? "So said the Lord God: On the day that it descended to the grave I caused mourning; I covered the depths for it" (Ezekiel 31:15). They are covered, hidden, buried in the depths.
Ḥizkiya bar Rabbi Ḥiyya offers a striking image: think of a clay vat, covered with a lid made of the same clay. The wicked, whose deeds are done in darkness – "Their actions are in the dark, and they say: Who sees us and who knows of us?" (Isaiah 29:15) – are ultimately covered by that same darkness. As it says in Genesis, "And darkness upon the surface of the depths" (Genesis 1:2).
So, God's righteousness is like towering mountains, plain for all to see. But God's justice? That can feel like a hidden thing. The Midrash (rabbinic commentary) asks: how can this be?
The destruction of Jerusalem, a pivotal moment in Jewish history, offers a powerful example. The Midrash tells us that the destruction occurred on the ninth of Av, a day of mourning. But when God showed the destruction to Ezekiel in a vision, He showed it to him on the first of the month. Why the discrepancy? To conceal the exact date of the tragedy. God's justice, in this moment of immense suffering, was shrouded in mystery.
But the Midrash doesn't leave us in despair. It contrasts this hiddenness with the future redemption of Israel. When the time comes to uplift Israel, God will reveal everything: the exact day, place, month, year, and era. There will be no more concealment. As the verse says, "[The Lord spoke to Moses in the wilderness of Sinai, in the Tent of Meeting, on the first of the second month, in the second year] of their exodus from the land of Egypt, saying" (Numbers 1:1). Everything is laid bare, precise, and clear. And what does He say? "Take a census of the entire congregation of the children of Israel" (Numbers 1:2). A new beginning, a fresh start, based on clarity and truth.
What does this mean for us? Perhaps it's a reminder that even when we can't see the full picture, even when we're wandering in the wilderness, there's a purpose. And that one day, the hidden things will be revealed, and justice will shine as brightly as the mountains.