We read in Exodus (12:29) that God struck down “all the firstborn” of Egypt. But what does "all" really mean?

The Pesikta DeRav Kahana, a collection of rabbinic teachings, delves into this. It's not just talking about the firstborn son of each family. The text emphasizes “all the firstborn,” implying a much wider scope. This includes, the Pesikta clarifies, the firstborn of man and the firstborn of woman.

Imagine this scenario: one man fathers children with ten different women. Each son born to these women would be considered a firstborn of a woman. Now flip it: ten men father children with the same woman. Each of those sons would be considered a firstborn of a man. So, the plague didn't just target the eldest son of a household; it potentially affected anyone who held that "firstborn" status in any context.

But what about a house where there were no firstborn at all? Exodus 12:30 states, “for there was no house in which no one had died.” How could this be true if some houses lacked a firstborn to lose? Rabbi Abba bar Acha offers an explanation: in such a case, the trustee of the household would die. He refers to 1 Chronicles 26:10, noting that Shimri, though not a firstborn, was made chief by his father, implying a position of importance that could make him a target.

That's intense. But the Pesikta doesn't stop there. It goes further, painting a vivid picture of the Egyptians' grief and humiliation.

A teaching in the name of Rabbi Nathan describes how, when an Egyptian firstborn died, the family would carve an icon of him and place it in the house as a memorial. During the plague, these icons were not spared. They were crushed, pulverized, and scattered, adding insult to injury and, according to the text, making it feel as if the Egyptians were burying their sons all over again.

And then there's this, from R. Yudan: Since the Egyptians would entomb their dead within their own houses, the dogs went wild that night. They entered the catacombs, pulled out the bodies of the firstborn, and tore them apart. Imagine the horror. The text says this, too, was as hard on each Egyptian as if he were burying his son again.

So, what do we take away from all this? The plague of the firstborn wasn't just a singular event, narrowly targeted. It was a sweeping, multi-layered tragedy that impacted Egyptian society on every level – from their family structures to their religious practices, even to their very homes and burial rituals. The Pesikta DeRav Kahana helps us understand the full, devastating scope of God's judgment. It wasn't simply about death; it was about the complete dismantling of Egyptian pride and power. Food for thought, isn't it?