And, well, the answer might surprise you.
Rabbi Natan, in Shemot Rabbah, makes a pretty strong statement: justice is fitting for God precisely because He upholds it without showing favor. It's a core attribute, right there alongside kindness and righteousness. As the prophet Jeremiah (9:23) puts it, God performs “kindness, justice and righteousness in the land.”
Think about Abraham, a foundational figure. According to the tradition, he faced ten major trials. But did God cut him any slack because of his faithfulness? Nope. Not even once.
Take the prophecy that Abraham's descendants would be strangers in a foreign land. Genesis 15:13 spells it out: “Know, that your descendants will be strangers.” Some commentaries, like Nedarim 32a, even suggest that Abraham's own question – "How do I know that I will inherit it?" (Genesis 15:8) – led to the decree of enslavement. Even Abraham, the paragon of faith, wasn't exempt from the consequences of his actions. He still had the audacity to ask God to uphold justice, as we see in Genesis 18:25: “Will the Judge of the earth not implement justice?”
And it doesn't stop there. Consider King Solomon, renowned for his wisdom. Job 5:13 tells us that God “traps the wise with their craftiness.” Solomon, who conquered spirits and demons and dispensed justice to all, ultimately fell victim to his own hubris. The Midrash suggests he tried to outsmart the Torah by accumulating wives, horses, and wealth, justifying it by thinking he was above the law (see Sanhedrin 21b). In his old age, he began to fear the very spirits he once controlled. Remember the verse from Song of Songs 3:8, "Each man, a sword on his thigh, from fear in the nights"? The tables had turned.
Shemot Rabbah underscores this point: there's no mitzvah, no commandment, that the Holy One doesn't emphasize the importance of. The consequences for violating them are always there, somewhere. For example, the Torah discusses selling a daughter into servitude (Exodus 21:7), and the implication is that mistreating others leads to negative outcomes.
The text continues with examples. "One who strikes a man and he dies" (Exodus 21:12). What causes this? Neglecting the Torah's teaching: "One who sheds the blood of man, by man shall his blood be shed" (Genesis 9:6). The Midrash compares it to defacing the king's statue and then ascending the judgment platform. Ignorance of the law isn't an excuse.
If someone kills an Israelite, it’s as if they’ve destroyed the image of the King, because humanity was created in the image of the ministering angels. Even if the killing is unintentional, God provides a place of refuge. But intentional murder? Even the High Priest isn't immune.
Think about Saul, a king anointed by God. Even he wasn't above the law. As II Samuel 1:24 laments, “Daughters of Israel, weep over Saul.” Who exacted the blood vengeance for Saul's actions? Not even Israel itself, but the Gibeonites (II Samuel 21:6). The priests might have forgiven Saul for the massacre in Nov, but the Gibeonites didn't. II Samuel 21:2 reminds us: "The Gibeonites were not of the children of Israel." David himself, in Psalms 51:16, cries out: “Save me from bloodshed, God.”
What does this all mean? Maybe it's a reminder that no one is above the law, not even the most righteous or powerful. Justice, in the eyes of God, is impartial and unwavering. It’s a sobering thought, but perhaps also a comforting one. It suggests a universe where actions truly have consequences, and where fairness, however difficult to achieve, remains the ultimate standard.