The text tells us that “the sound of their grief pierced to the very heavens.” It paints a vivid picture of despair.

And where is Moses, their leader, during all this? He’s gone to plead with the Avot, the Patriarchs – Abraham, Isaac, and Jacob. According to Ginzberg's retelling in Legends of the Jews, Moses returns to these ancestral figures, bearing witness to the horrors faced by the exiled Jews. And what happens? They, too, are overcome with sorrow, joining in the chorus of woe.

It's a powerful image, this chain of grief stretching from earth to heaven, from the present generation back to the very roots of the Jewish people. But it's Moses's personal anguish that really grabs you. He cries out, cursing the sun! "Be cursed, O sun," he exclaims, "why was not thy light extinguished in the hour in which the enemy invaded the sanctuary?"

Think about the audacity of that statement. Cursing the sun, the source of all light and life! But it shows the depth of his pain, his feeling of abandonment.

And the sun… it answers him! The sun replies, defending itself. "O faithful shepherd, I sware by the life, I could not grow dark. The heavenly powers would not permit it. Sixty fiery scourges they dealt me, and they said, 'Go and let thy light shine forth.'" According to this version, the sun was forced to shine, even amidst the darkness, highlighting the idea that even celestial bodies are subject to a higher power, and perhaps even to a divine plan beyond our comprehension.

Did the sun want to go dark? The story leaves that hanging.

But Moses isn’t done. He has one last, agonizing complaint, this time directed to God himself. "O Lord of the world," he cries, "Thou hast written it in Thy Torah: 'And whether it be cow or ewe, ye shall not kill it and her young both in one day.' How many mothers have they slaughtered with their children and Thou art silent!" (The source for this is found in Legends of the Jews.)

This is a direct challenge to divine justice. How can a God who commands compassion even towards animals allow such unspeakable cruelty to human beings, mothers and children, no less? The contrast between the divine law and the reality of suffering is stark and deeply unsettling.

It's a question that echoes through the ages. How do we reconcile faith with suffering? How do we maintain hope in the face of despair? These stories, these legends, don't offer easy answers. But they do offer a space to grapple with these questions, to voice our pain, and to remember that even in the darkest of times, the cries of the Jewish people—and their leaders—have always pierced the heavens.