There is something very human about wanting to know what comes next. We like plans, reassurance, and the comfort of knowing that we are making the right decision. We feel this after experiencing grief or loss, during major life transitions, and even in ordinary moments. I was reminded of it just this morning as I helped my children get ready to face the day, offering reassurance about things I couldn’t possibly predict myself. Sometimes we simply want someone to tell us that everything is going to be okay. As we read the story of Noah, after the floodwaters recede and the earth begins to dry, Noah remains inside the ark. The Torah tells us that God eventually commands him to leave, but an ancient rabbinic teaching offers an interesting explanation for why Noah had not yet emerged on his own.
The late Rabbi Lord Jonathan Sacks, former Chief Rabbi of the United Kingdom and renowned Bible scholar, shares this teaching in one of his essays on Noah. The rabbis imagined Noah reasoning that because he had entered the ark with God’s permission, he should not leave without it. God grants him that permission. But Rabbi Yehudah bar Ilai a prominent Jewish sage who lived in Israel during the second century CE., offers a different response, declaring that had he been there, he would have broken down the doors of the ark and gone outside himself.
At first, I found myself sympathizing with Noah. After everything he had experienced, who could blame him for hesitating? The world he had known was gone. He had spent months inside the ark, following God’s instructions and protecting his family. Now he faced the responsibility of beginning again, with no way of knowing exactly what awaited him.
Rabbi Sacks explains that when we are tasked with rebuilding a shattered world, we cannot always wait for explicit permission. Sometimes God expects us to take the initiative.
But I think there is another layer to this story. Noah may have been waiting for God’s permission, but perhaps what he really wanted was reassurance. Reassurance that the world outside was ready for him. That he was ready for it. That stepping out of the ark was the right thing to do.
And isn’t that something we all do? We tell ourselves that we’re waiting for the right moment, the right circumstances, or someone’s approval. But often, what we’re really waiting for is the certainty that things will work out.
This idea reminded me of another moment in the Bible. When the Israelites stand at the Red Sea, with the Egyptian army approaching, Moses tells them that God will fight for them. But God’s response is striking: “Why do you cry out to Me? Tell the Israelites to go forward”
I can’t help but imagine God sounding a little like an Israeli taxi driver in this moment: “Yallah, let’s go!”
There is a time for prayer and reassurance, but there is also a time when we simply need to start moving.
Of course, this doesn’t mean that every hesitation is misplaced or that we should act without thinking. Caution and patience are important. But there is a difference between taking the time to make a thoughtful decision and waiting for a guarantee that no one can give us.
What strikes me about these two biblical stories is that God doesn’t promise Noah or the Israelites that the road ahead will be easy. Noah still has an entire world to rebuild. The Israelites still have a wilderness to cross. A new land to conquer. God’s instruction to move forward doesn’t remove the challenges awaiting them.
Perhaps that’s what makes faith so difficult, and so meaningful. We would like to believe that faith means knowing everything will turn out exactly as we hope. But faith doesn’t necessarily offer that kind of certainty.
Sometimes we have already been given the tools, the opportunity, and the responsibility to take the next step. What we’re waiting for is permission to feel ready.
And perhaps we don’t always need to feel 100% ready before we just, begin.
