It wasn't just a random event, a quirk of fate. According to Rabbi Ḥama, there was a very specific, almost divinely orchestrated reason.

Imagine Moses growing up comfortably in his father's house. He learns the family history, the secret signs, the whispers of a promised redemption. Then, as a young man, he strides into the Israelite community, proclaiming, "I am here to save you! God has sent me!"

Would they have believed him?

Probably not. As Rabbi Ḥama suggests, they would have likely dismissed him. "Oh, it's just young Moses," they might have said. "He learned it all from his father, Amram. Just like Joseph passed it to Levi, and Levi to Kehat, and Kehat to Amram." The signs, the words, would have seemed like nothing more than a family tradition, a handed-down secret, lacking the divine spark of authenticity.

This idea resonates with a beautiful passage in Shemot Rabbah (3:8, 5:13). It speaks of a tradition, an oral history passed down through generations. When Moses, in the name of God, declared, "pakod pakadti – I have surely remembered you" (Exodus 3:16), the elders recognized these words. They knew this phrase was a sign, a password almost, that the true redeemer of Israel would utter upon revealing himself.

So, Moses had to be "torn" from his father's home. This separation, this disruption, was necessary. It was a divine strategy to ensure that when he finally did appear before the Israelites, his words would carry the weight of undeniable truth. He couldn't be seen as simply reciting a family script. His message needed to be fresh, untainted, and clearly from God.

And it worked! As the text tells us, when Moses went and told Israel all these matters, "the people believed" (Exodus 4:31).

What does that say to us? Perhaps it tells us that sometimes, the most authentic messages come from unexpected sources, from those who have been separated from the familiar, from those who carry the weight of experience rather than simply the echo of tradition. Maybe it reminds us to listen with open hearts, not just to those who fit our expectations, but to those whose words resonate with a deeper, undeniable truth.