And wouldn't you know it, our sages wrestled with it too, finding fascinating answers hidden in the verses of Torah.
Our journey begins with the story of Noah and the flood. Genesis 8:1 tells us, "God remembered Noah, and all the beasts, and all the animals that were with him in the ark; God caused a wind to pass over the earth, and the water subsided." But what does it mean that God "remembered?" It's not like He forgot, right? The verse is immediately followed by a quote from Psalms 36:7: "Your righteousness is like mighty mountains [keharerei el]; Your judgments are a great deep. Lord, You save man and animal." This juxtaposition is where the fun begins!
The Bereshit Rabbah, a classic collection of rabbinic interpretations of Genesis, delves deep into this connection. Rabbi Yishmael and Rabbi Akiva, two towering figures of Jewish thought, offer contrasting views. Rabbi Yishmael suggests that God deals with the righteous "up to the mighty mountains" – meaning, He is exceedingly generous with them because they accepted the Torah, which was given from the "mountains of God." But the wicked, who rejected the Torah? God is exacting with them "down to great depths."
Rabbi Akiva, ever the nuanced thinker, disagrees. He argues that God is exacting with everyone "down to great depths." With the righteous, He collects His due for the few bad deeds they performed in this world, ensuring they receive a better reward in the World to Come. And the wicked? He showers them with tranquility and reward for the few good deeds they did in this world, only to exact a fuller retribution from them in the World to Come. It's like God is settling accounts, making sure everyone gets what they deserve, eventually.
Rabbi Levi adds another layer, suggesting the verse is a metaphor comparing the reward of the righteous to their abode and the punishment of the wicked to their abode. The righteous are promised pasture on the "mountains of the height of Israel" (Ezekiel 34:14), while the wicked descend to the "netherworld" (Ezekiel 31:15), covered in darkness.
Rabbi Yehuda bar Rabbi even plays with the Hebrew word he'evalti, meaning "I caused mourning," in Ezekiel 31:15. He cleverly suggests reading it as hovalti, "I led him [to the netherworld]." He uses the analogy of a vat, noting that you don't cover a vat made of clay with silver or gold; you use more clay. Similarly, the wicked, who are darkness themselves, are led to Gehenna (hell), and covered with the depths of the earth – darkness covering darkness.
Rabbi Yonatan, citing Rabbi Yoshiya, gives a brilliant twist, transposing the words of the verse to read, "Your righteousness is upon Your judgments; like mighty mountains are upon the great depths." He explains that just as mountains weigh down the water of the deep, preventing it from flooding the world, so too do the righteous suppress God's strict judgments, preventing them from incinerating the world. And just as mountains are endless, so is the reward of the righteous. Just as mountains are sown and produce fruit, so do the actions of the righteous produce fruit, as Isaiah 3:10 says, "Say of the righteous man that it shall be well with him, for they will eat the fruit of their actions." Conversely, the punishment of the wicked is as unmeasurable as the depths of the earth, and their actions bear no fruit.
The Midrash then shares a story about Rabbi Yehoshua ben Levi visiting Rome. Seeing opulent pillars draped in tapestries to protect them from the elements, and then witnessing a poor man shivering in rags, he recited the verse: "Your righteousness is like mighty mountains" for the pillars – to the one to whom You give, You give abundantly. And for the poor man, "Your judgments are great depths" – to the one whom You hit, You hit powerfully.
Another anecdote features Alexander the Great visiting a king who, when asked why he doesn't need Alexander's money, replies he only wants to know how Alexander administers justice. The king then resolves a complex property dispute by having the claimants' children marry each other and share the treasure found on the land. Alexander, astonished, admits he would have simply killed both claimants and seized the treasure. The king rebukes him, saying that the rain and sunshine aren't for Alexander's sake, but for the sake of the animals, echoing Psalms 36:7: "Lord, You save man and animal" – the Lord saves man for the sake of the animals.
Finally, Rabbi Yehuda bar Simon returns us to Noah, explaining that God's righteousness toward Noah was performed through the "mighty mountains" upon which the ark rested (Genesis 8:4). The suffering imposed on Noah's generation was through the "great depths" of the floodwaters (Genesis 7:11). And when God remembered Noah, He remembered not just Noah himself, but everything that was in the ark with him – "God remembered Noah and all the beasts…"
So, what does all this mean for us? Perhaps it's a reminder that the world isn't always fair in the short term. Sometimes, the righteous suffer, and the wicked prosper. But the Bereshit Rabbah suggests a deeper, more complex accounting at play. A system where actions have consequences, where even small acts of goodness are recognized, and where, ultimately, everyone receives their due. Maybe that's a comforting thought in a world that often feels chaotic and unjust. It reminds us that even when we don't understand the "why," there's a grander design at work, a cosmic balance being maintained.