According to Ginzberg's retelling in Legends of the Jews, that's exactly what happened. Moses arrives, ready to lead, and Dathan and Abiram, prominent Israelites, meet him with hostility. "Comest thou hither to slay us?" they ask, implying he's no better than the Egyptians they're trying to escape. "Or dost thou purpose to do the same with us as thou didst with the Egyptian?" Ouch.
Can you blame Moses for turning right around and heading back to Midian? He spends another two years there before God finally appears to him at Horeb and gives him the direct command: "Go and bring forth My children out of the land of Egypt."
But let's not forget what life was like for the Israelites in those final years of bondage. Things were rough. Really rough.
The text tells us that these were the worst years. Why? Because God, in an attempt to punish Pharaoh for his cruelty, afflicted him with a terrible plague – leprosy that covered him from head to toe. You'd think that might make someone reconsider their life choices, right?
Nope. Not Pharaoh. He doubled down.
Instead of repenting, Pharaoh remained "stiffnecked," and desperately sought a cure. And here's where the story gets truly dark: he consulted his advisors – Balaam, Jethro, and Job – on how to be healed.
Balaam's advice? Slaughter Israelite children and bathe in their blood.
I know, it's horrific.
Jethro, horrified by the suggestion, immediately fled to Midian. Good for him! But what about Job?
Well, Job disapproved, but he stayed silent. He didn’t actively participate, but he also didn't protest. According to the narrative, God punished Job with a year of suffering for his silence.
But here's the twist: God later showered Job with blessings, granting him wealth, happiness, and a long life. Why? So that this righteous gentile would receive his reward in this world, and not have a claim on the rewards of the world to come. It's a fascinating idea, isn't it? That acts of goodness deserve recognition, even if the motivations are complex, and that God’s justice plays out in ways we might not always understand.
What does this all tell us? Perhaps it's a reminder that leadership is rarely easy. That even when we're doing what we believe is right, we might face suspicion and opposition. And maybe, just maybe, it's a reflection on the complexities of morality, choice, and consequence – and the idea that even silence can have a profound impact.