Rabbi Ari Kahn
Parashat Bo
Total Eclipse
Something had changed; the earth had begun to shift under
Pharaoh’s
feet. Perhaps it was brought about by the crushing force of plague after
plague, or perhaps the fear of what was yet to come had begun to take its toll.
Either way, the cracks in Pharaoh’s facade had begun to show: Pharaoh’s servants were now telling their
master what to do:
Pharaoh's servants said to him, 'How long will this [man]
continue to be a snare to us? Let the men go, and let them serve God their
Lord. Don't you realize yet that Egypt is lost?' (Shmot 10:7)
It is unclear what the status of these people is: Are they Pharaoh’s close advisors, government officials,
or lowly members of the palace staff? Either way, it is highly unusual for anyone,
no matter what their standing in the Egyptian hierarchy, to offer unsolicited
advice to Pharaoh –
and not just advice, but advice based on the understanding that Pharaoh has been
vanquished by a superior power. These “advisors” must have been desperate; nothing short of utter despair
would have caused them to throw caution and protocol to the wind and to speak
out in this way.
On the others hand, it might be argued that their brazen
speech indicates a shift that is far deeper than mere desperation. After all,
just as people are capable of becoming accustomed to slavery, they are capable
of adapting to plagues. We might imagine that the Egyptians had become
desensitized, and had managed to adapt to the “new normal,” developing emotional and cognitive callouses that would
allow them to withstand the pain. In that case, perhaps this outburst was not
the speech of people beaten into submission by the cumulative effects of seven
plagues; rather, there was something about the next plague that Moshe had
predicted that was more frightening, more menacing, than anything they had
already experienced. Something was different this time: As opposed to all of
the preceding plagues, this is the only time that Moshe and Aharon were
summoned back to the palace for negotiations after the warning was issued. If
we pay close attention to Pharaoh’s words, we can pinpoint the source of that fear:
Moshe and Aharon were brought back to Pharaoh. 'Go serve
God your Lord,' he said. 'But exactly who will be going?' 'Young and old alike
will go,' replied Moshe. 'We will go with our sons and our daughters, with our
sheep and cattle. It is a festival to God for [all of] us.' 'May God be with
you if I let you leave with your children!' replied Pharaoh. 'See – Evil
(ra’ah)
will confront you. That is not the way it will be: Let the males go and worship
God, if that is really what you want!' With that, he had them expelled from his
presence. (Shmot 10:8-11)
At face value, the negotiations seem to center around the
question of who should pray. In Pharaoh’s view, only the men should be allowed to worship God;
women and children have no part in religious life. Moshe demands that each and
every member of the Israelite nation must participate in the religious
experience, that the festival of worship can only be observed as a People. Men
and women, young and old: every Israelite has an equal part in the worship of
God, and no one will be left behind. The Jewish concept of service of God is
gender-neutral, age-neutral.
Upon closer inspection, we are able to detect a veiled
threat in Pharaoh’s
argument: If the entire Jewish People attempt to leave Egypt to worship their
God, they will be confronted by evil. What is the nature of this evil? The
Hebrew word used to describe it is “ra’ah” – which is often translated quite simply as “something bad.” Rashi (10:10)offers another
interpretation, citing a tradition that ra’ah is related to a celestial entity of the same name. In fact,
the most powerful deity in the Egyptian pantheon was none other than Raa, the
sun god. Pharaoh’s
threat was no vague premonition of unpleasantness: He invoked the power of
Egypt’s
most terrifying deity against Moshe and the Israelites, warning that Raa would
confront them and destroy them if they dared leave Egypt en masse.
What set Pharaoh and his servants off? The plague Moshe had
predicted, the eighth plague, was locusts. To the eye of the modern reader,
this plague promised economic devastation caused by destruction of their food
supply. However, it is altogether likely that financial ruin was a secondary
problem:
If you refuse to let My people leave, I will bring locusts
to your territories tomorrow. They will cover
every visible speck of land, so that you will not be able to see the
ground, and they will eat all that was spared for you by the hail, devouring
every tree growing in the field. (Shmot 10:4-5)
The warning Moshe conveys is equally potent: The Egyptian sun
god, Raa, would be eclipsed by the locusts. This threat was far more
frightening than mere financial hardship: It was theologically devastating. To
the minds of the Egyptians, blotting out the sun with a swarm of insects would
indicate the absolute impotence of Pharaoh, on display for one and all to see.
This is why Pharaoh summoned Moshe and Aharon, engaged them in conversation,
offered to compromise for the first time. This is why Pharaoh’s minions felt that all was lost. The
disappearance of the sun, the eclipse of their godhead, would turn their world
upside down.
And yet, despite all that was at stake, Pharaoh was
unwilling to abandon his position. He was unwilling to admit that the power
Moshe represented was greater than his own. He preferred to bite the proverbial
bullet, to contend with the locusts rather than admit defeat, but neither
Pharaoh nor his servants could fathom what would happen next. The next plague
would be a direct response to Pharaoh’s veiled threat of the power of Raa: Darkness, complete and
utter obliteration of the sun, suffered only by the Egyptians and not by the
Israelites. It was no coincidence that the final plague, the death of the
firstborn, would also be visited upon the Egyptians in the dead of night,
forcing Pharaoh to seek out Moshe and Aharon in the darkness and attempt to
save himself. The common denominator among the three final plagues is darkness;
the sun god is eclipsed, stripped of power and importance. While this
observation may be lost upon modern readers, the Egyptians were shaken to their
very core.
How were these messages perceived by the Israelites? They were
freed not only of their physical slavery, but of the spiritual and mental
shackles that had constrained them as well. Step after step, as each successive
plague brought the Egyptians and their belief system lower and lower, the
Israelites were raised to new heights of physical and philosophical emancipation,
and they began to understand that the God of their fathers, the Creator and
Master of the Universe, had set the stage for the fulfillment of their unique
national destiny.
As midnight struck and the Egyptian firstborn perished,
Pharaoh frantically groped his way through the darkness, searching for Moshe.
According to tradition, Pharaoh commanded Moshe – perhaps begged Moshe – to take the Jews and go. In their first act as a free
people, the Jews refuse. They do not leave Egypt at Pharaoh’s command; they will not run out
under cover of darkness. The Exodus must wait until the morning; the Israelites
will leave with dignity, in broad daylight, as all of Egypt looks on, and not like
thieves or runaways. More importantly, they will leave when the sun shines, so that
no one can ever claim that they slipped out when the sun god was “off duty.” As the Israelites make their
triumphant march to freedom, Pharaoh and all the impotent gods of Egypt are
left behind, relegated to the dustbin of history.
For
a more in-depth analysis see:
