The text of the Torah reads: "The Lord spoke to Moses after the death of the two sons of Aaron when they approached the Lord and died." God goes on and commands Moses to speak to Aaron and explain to him how one should dress and act when he approaches the Holy of Holies.
The Parasha is most troubling. Why does God speak to only Moses when in the past he has spoken to Moses and Aaron together? And why is God so cold and distant in the words that he speaks to Moses. Aaron's sons, Moses' nephews, were dead. The sadness of both father and uncle must have been profound. Surely the God Who visited Abraham after his birth, Who did not allow Isaac to be slaughtered on Mt. Moriah, Who protected Daniel in the Lion's den, Who kept Joseph alive tribulation after tribulation had words of consolation to speak to Aaron. Surely that God could display more kindness to the grieving Aaron.
Aaron had every right to ask why good things happen to bad people, why unmerited bad happens to good people. Surely Aaron and Moses had every right to expect the Almighty to mitigate-to the smallest extent-the pain that they were suffering then. Indeed, there is no more pressing issue in the entire Torah, and there is no more pressing issue in life. We do not search after the God of Aristotle, the Unmoved Mover. We desire a God of pathos who cares about each of us and listens to each of us and allows us to feel the warmth of His Presence. What we desire is not the knowledge that God is there, but the recognition of God's Presence. We do not seek dogma; we seek relationship with God.
Often God is silent as he was at the death of the sons of Aaron, as he was during the Crusades and pogroms, as he was during the Holocaust. For us, for all people, there is no pain as great as God's silence. We seek a God of faith, a God Who might even while denying the requests of our prayers demonstrates care for us; a God who allows us the constant affirmation of His Presence. In truth we seek little more from God.