We all know the triumphant tale of the Israelites crossing the Red Sea, escaping Pharaoh's clutches. But what about the Egyptians swallowed by the waves? It turns out, Jewish tradition has quite a bit to say about that, and it might surprise you.

Imagine the scene: The Egyptians, hot on the heels of the fleeing Israelites, reach the edge of the sea. But something strange happens. According to one fascinating midrash, the waves themselves transform, taking on the appearance of alluring mares. And the Egyptians, the rasha'im, the wicked ones, become lustful stallions, driven by their desires to chase after them. It's a powerful, almost surreal image, isn't it? "Horse and driver He has hurled into the sea" (Exod. 15:1). That verse from Exodus, so familiar to us, suddenly takes on a whole new layer of meaning.

But here's where the story gets really interesting. As the Egyptians are drowning, the angels, naturally, want to celebrate! They want to sing a hymn, a song of praise to GOD for this miraculous victory. But GOD silences them. Can you imagine that? GOD, saying, "Do not sing today. How can I listen to singing when the works of My hands are drowning in the sea?" (B. Megillah 10b, Exodus Rabbah 23:14, Song of Songs Rabbah 1:51).

It's a stunning moment, revealing a profound aspect of the Divine. As Rabbi Schwartz points out in Tree of Souls, this is a crucial myth. It establishes GOD's care for all creation, even for those who are the enemies of His people, Israel.

Now, some interpretations add another layer. Midrash Avkir suggests the angels weren't just celebrating, but trying to ease the Egyptians' passing. They wanted to sing so sweetly that the souls of the Egyptians would depart this world gently, painlessly. But GOD, according to this view, refuses. "They have caused My children to perish," He says. "Should they die from the sweetness of your singing?"

This leads to a fascinating debate within the tradition. Rabbi Shmelke of Nikolsburg (1726-1778) offers yet another perspective. He suggests the angels were trying to draw out the Egyptians' souls painlessly, but that GOD objected because it wouldn't make them suffer for their sins (Shemen ha-Tov, Tiferet Shlomo on Exodus 14:20). Talk about a midrashic plot twist! What seems like a compassionate act by the angels is actually overruled by divine justice.

We find echoes of this idea even earlier, in the biblical book of Proverbs: "If your enemy falls, do not exult; if he stumbles, do not let your heart rejoice" (Proverbs 24:17). The message is clear: even in victory, we must remember the humanity—or perhaps the divine spark—in our enemies.

What are we to make of all this? It's a reminder that even in moments of triumph, compassion and empathy are paramount. The story of the drowning Egyptians and the silenced angels challenges us to consider the complexities of justice, mercy, and the very nature of GOD. It suggests that true victory isn't just about overcoming our enemies, but about recognizing the shared humanity – or, at the very least, the shared creation – that binds us all. Perhaps, in the end, the most profound lesson of the Exodus isn't just about freedom, but about the responsibility that comes with it: the responsibility to see the world, and even our enemies, through the eyes of GOD.