The ancient rabbis wrestled with that feeling too, especially when considering the relationship between Israel and the other nations.
We find a powerful, raw expression of this in Sifrei Devarim, a legal commentary on the Book of Deuteronomy. It grapples with a verse from the Song of Moses (Deuteronomy 32:31): "For not as our rock is their rock, our enemies are judges."
What does that mean?
The text dives right in: "Not as the authority you give us is the authority you give them." It’s a stark statement about perceived injustice. When God grants authority to other nations, the commentary argues, they often treat the Jewish people with cruelty. The text pulls no punches: "they kill us, burn us, and crucify us." A brutal assessment of historical realities, isn't it? It’s a cry of pain, etched in ink and passed down through generations.
The commentary then hones in on the phrase "our enemies are judges." It points to a fundamental principle within the Torah itself. Numbers 35:23 states that someone who isn’t an enemy, someone who doesn’t seek to do evil, should be the one to judge. So, the question becomes: How can God, the ultimate source of justice, allow enemies to act as judges over Israel? It feels like a direct contradiction, doesn't it? Like a betrayal of divine promise.
This isn't just abstract theology, either. It’s about real-world suffering and the search for meaning in the face of oppression.
The final line offers a different angle, linking the verse to the infamous city of Sodom. Deuteronomy 32:32 continues, "For of the wine of Sodom is their wine." Here, we find two rabbinic opinions. Rabbi Yehudah interprets the "wine of Sodom" as referring to Israel, while Rabbi Nechemiah sees it as referring to the other nations.
What's the significance of Sodom? It’s a symbol of moral decay, of societal corruption. So, is Israel being compared to Sodom? Or are the nations? The debate itself reveals a tension. Is the problem internal – a failing within the Jewish people themselves? Or is it external – a consequence of the actions of others?
Perhaps, like so many things, the truth lies somewhere in between. Sifrei Devarim doesn't offer easy answers, but it does offer a space to wrestle with difficult questions about power, justice, and the often-perplexing relationship between God and humanity. It forces us to confront the uncomfortable realities of history and to ask ourselves: How do we find justice, even when it feels like our enemies are the judges? And what does it truly mean to be a light unto nations, especially when that light seems to attract darkness?