— Don’t you trust me? asked Moses. Have I not yet proved my worth? Have I not destroyed the Golden Calf?

God could have replied that He trusted Moses but not the others. Instead He chose to make His point by appealing to His prophet’s common sense.

— Moses, he asked, who are you?

— The son of Amram, said Moses.

— Who was Amram?

— The son of Yitzhar, said Moses.

— Who was Yitzhar?

— The son of Kehat, said Moses.

— And Kehat, who was he?

— The son of Levi, said Moses.

— And Levi?

— The son of Jacob, son of Isaac, son of Abraham . . . And thus he continued to the first man, Adam.

— Adam? said God. Where is Adam?

— Dead, answered Moses. Adam is dead.

— And Abraham? And Isaac? And Jacob?

— Dead, said Moses. They are all dead. And the others too. All dead.

— Yes, said God, your ancestors are dead. And you, you alone wish to live forever?

But Moses discovered in himself new gifts of rhetoric:

— Adam? he said. Adam stole. I did not. Abraham? Abraham had two sons, one of whom did not belong to Your people. That is equally true of Isaac. But not of me. Both my sons are children of Israel.

At this point God seems to have lost His patience:

— Moses, he said more abruptly, you killed an Egyptian. Who ordered you to kill him? Not I.

And once more Moses found an answer.

— Yes, I killed one single Egyptian. But You? You killed many. You killed all the first-borns. And You want to punish me?

Still, Moses knew that no matter how good his argument, it did not change the situation. The divine will reflects a divine and not a human logic. And so, in desperation, he turned to all of creation for help:

— Heaven and earth, pray for me!

— No, said they, we cannot.

Then he pleaded with the sun and the moon to pray for him.

— No, said they, we cannot.

Next came the stars, the planets, the mountains and rivers.

— No, they all said. We cannot even pray for ourselves.

Then Moses turned to the sea:

— You, please intercede in my favor!

And the sea, cruel and vindictive, reminded him of their first meeting, long ago, when he was leading a newly liberated people toward challenging adventures.

— Son of Amram, the sea sneered at Moses, what is the matter with you today? Now you need me? You who struck me with your stick and made me withdraw in order to let your people pass?

And Moses realized how alone and helpless he was. And ruefully he whispered—almost to himself:

— Once upon a time I was king and I gave orders; now I am on my knees and the whole world is indifferent.

Whereupon, in a surge of generosity, the illustrious Angel of the Face, the Sar Hapanim Metatron, gave him the friendly advice to stop opposing God’s plan: