Would you still offer that help?
That’s the dilemma, in a sense, that God faces in the lead-up to the Exodus. As we learn in Legends of the Jews, God, in speaking to Moses, lays bare this painful truth. Moses sees only the immediate future: the giving of the Torah, the sacred teachings, on Mount Sinai. But God sees further.
He sees the Golden Calf.
Even as God reveals Himself on Sinai, the Israelites will be crafting an idol, a "steer," as Ginzberg puts it in Legends, a figure they will see reflected in God's very chariot. This act of betrayal, this blatant idolatry, will ignite God's wrath.
So why, knowing all this, does God proceed with the redemption? Why not just say, "Forget it. They're not worth it"?
Here's where it gets really interesting. God explains to Moses that He judges people based on their present actions, not on what they might do in the future. Even knowing the Israelites will stumble, God honors the promise made to their ancestor, Jacob: "I will go down with thee into Egypt, and I will also surely bring thee up again" (Genesis 46:4).
It's a matter of integrity. God keeps His word. He will descend into Egypt to liberate Israel, fulfilling His promise to bring them to the land He swore to their forefathers.
There’s also the matter of timing. God reminds Moses that He had set a specific period of suffering for the Israelites, revealed to Abraham long ago. As long as that time of affliction hadn't passed, their cries went unanswered. But now, the appointed time has arrived.
So, God commands Moses to go to Pharaoh and demand the release of His people. And here's the kicker: "If thou dost not bring about the redemption, none other will, for there is none other that can do it." Israel's hope rests entirely on Moses’s shoulders. "The matter lieth in thine hands alone."
Think about that for a moment. Despite knowing the future heartbreak, despite the potential for disappointment, God trusts Moses. He empowers him to be the agent of redemption.
This passage from Legends of the Jews isn’t just a historical account; it's a profound meditation on divine patience, the weight of responsibility, and the enduring power of promises. Even when we know someone might let us down, do we still offer our hand? Do we still give them the chance to rise? And perhaps, more importantly, do we trust in the possibility of redemption, even in the face of inevitable challenges? Maybe that’s the most divine act of all.