They're opposites, right? Always battling it out. But in one of the most dramatic stories in the Torah, the Exodus from Egypt, we see them working together in a truly terrifying way.
I'm talking about the plague of hail.
Now, the Torah tells us about the devastating hail that fell upon Egypt (Exodus 9:18-26), but the Legends of the Jews, that amazing collection of rabbinic stories compiled by Louis Ginzberg, really brings the event to life. It paints a picture far more vivid than you might imagine.
Here's the thing: this wasn't just any hail. According to the legend, it was hail infused with fire! The Zohar, that foundational text of Jewish mysticism, tells us that fire rested inside the hailstones, like a burning wick floating in oil. The water couldn't extinguish the flame, and that, my friends, is a miracle in itself.
Can you imagine the horror? The Egyptians were caught between freezing ice and searing flames. Whether struck by the hail or the fire, their flesh was burned. The bodies of those killed by the hail were even consumed by the fire, according to Ginzberg's retelling.
It was utter devastation.
And it didn’t stop there. The hailstones piled up like a wall, making it impossible to clear away the dead animals. Imagine trying to salvage what you could, only to have birds of prey swoop down and snatch it away! Midrash Rabbah, a collection of rabbinic interpretations of the Torah, adds this gruesome detail.
But the vegetation… oh, the vegetation suffered even more. The hail came down like an axe, shattering the trees. A complete and utter destruction. It makes you wonder, doesn't it, about the sheer power being unleashed?
There was, however, one small mercy. The wheat and the spelt were spared. That they weren't crushed, Ginzberg tells us, was nothing short of a miracle. A tiny spark of hope amidst the overwhelming destruction.
So, what are we to make of this? Is it just a fantastical story meant to scare us? Or is there something deeper here? Perhaps it's a reminder that even in the midst of chaos and destruction, there's always the possibility of redemption. A little bit of wheat spared, a little bit of hope remaining. Maybe that's the real miracle.