Jewish tradition grapples with this question, especially when it comes to the timing of pivotal moments in our history. And sometimes, the answers are more surprising than you'd expect.
Take the creation of Abraham, for example. According to Kohelet Rabbah, the collection of rabbinic interpretations on the Book of Ecclesiastes, Rabbi Bon presents a fascinating idea: Abraham was worthy of being created before Adam, the first man! But the Holy One, blessed be He, had a plan. God reasoned that if Abraham were created first and then sinned, there would be no one to rectify his actions. Instead, Adam was created first. And if Adam faltered, Abraham would arrive later to set things right. As the verse says, "He made everything beautiful in its time" (Ecclesiastes 3:11).
Rabbi Bon offers another source for this idea, referencing Joshua 14:15: “The greatest man among the giants.” This, he suggests, is a reference to Abraham. He was "greatest" because he deserved to be created first. But again, God's wisdom prevailed.
Rabbi Abba bar Kahana offers a parable to illustrate this point. Imagine someone with a massive, sturdy beam for their house. Where would they place it? In the center of the great hall, of course! That way, it can support the beams both in front of it and behind it. Similarly, God created Abraham in the "middle" – to support the generations that came before him and those that followed.
Rabbi Levi uses a different analogy: you bring a proper wife into the house of an improper one, not the other way around. Abraham was created after Adam to positively influence a world already tarnished. Had Abraham come first, Adam might have undone all the good he accomplished.
These aren't just abstract ideas, though. They speak to the very nature of our relationship with the Divine.
The Rabbis continue, pondering other "what ifs." Rabbi Yehuda ben Rabbi Simon suggests that Adam was even worthy of receiving the Torah! After all, Genesis 5:1 says, "This is the book of the generations of Adam." The midrash, or interpretation, sees the word "book" as a reference to the Torah itself. God considered it: "Adam is my handiwork, shouldn't I give him the Torah?" But then, God realized that if Adam couldn't keep even the six commandments he was given, how could he possibly keep all 613 – the 248 positive commandments and 365 prohibitions? So, God decided to give the Torah not to Adam himself, but to his descendants.
Rabbi Yaakov of Kefar Ḥanan takes a similar line of reasoning. Adam was worthy of having twelve tribes descend from him. The gematria, or numerical value, of the Hebrew words "zeh sefer toldot Adam" ("this is the book of the generations of Adam") equals twelve. But God knew that if Adam, who had two sons and one killed the other, had twelve sons, things could be far worse. So, the twelve tribes were given to Jacob, the righteous one.
Even the giving of the Torah at Sinai wasn't simply a matter of divine decree, according to Rabbi Yitzchak. The Israelites, fresh out of Egypt, were worthy of receiving the Torah immediately. But God saw that "the radiance of My children has not yet come." They were still recovering from the trauma of slavery. It’s like a king whose son is recovering from illness. You wouldn't send him straight to the academy, would you? You'd let him rest and recover first. Similarly, God allowed the Israelites time to adjust, providing them with manna, water, and quail before giving them the Torah in the third month.
Rabbi Yitzchak further suggests that the Israelites were initially worthy of entering the Promised Land immediately after the Exodus. However, the trees in Canaan were old, dating back to Noah's time. God didn't want to bring them into a wasteland. Instead, He led them through the wilderness for forty years, giving the Canaanites time to clear out the old trees and plant new ones. That way, the Israelites would enter a land filled with blessings.
Finally, Rabbi offers a startling thought: "Even for matters of transgression, it is 'beautiful in its time.'" Even sin, in a strange way, has its place in the divine plan. “He made everything beautiful in its time” alludes to the fact that even the effect of a transgression is influenced by its timing.
What does all this mean? Perhaps it's a reminder that things aren't always as they seem. That even in moments of apparent chaos or delay, there's a deeper wisdom at work. That the timing of events, even the most challenging ones, might just be part of a larger, more beautiful design. It challenges us to trust in a plan that we may not fully understand, but one that ultimately aims for harmony and balance. And isn't that a comforting thought?