We're going to look at a passage from Pirkei DeRabbi Eliezer, specifically chapter 42. This work, Pirkei DeRabbi Eliezer, is a beautiful, almost dreamlike, retelling of biblical narratives, filled with folklore and midrashic interpretations. It's not history in the modern sense, but a tapestry woven to reveal deeper truths.
The scene? The dramatic climax of the Exodus. The Israelites have fled Egypt, the sea has parted, and Pharaoh, stubborn to the bitter end, leads his army in hot pursuit. We all know how this ends. Exodus 14:23 tells us plainly, "And the Egyptians pursued after them." And then, a verse later, in Exodus 14:28, the hammer falls: "And the waters returned, and covered the chariots, and the horsemen."
Simple enough. But Jewish tradition rarely leaves things at face value. It asks why. Why did things happen this way? What's the underlying principle at play?
That's where Ben 'Azzai comes in. He offers a powerful explanation, a concept deeply ingrained in Jewish thought: Midah k’neged midah. Usually translated as "measure for measure." Or, perhaps, "what goes around, comes around."
Ben 'Azzai points out a crucial parallel. The Egyptians, consumed by fear and a desire to control the Israelite population, committed a horrific act: the drowning of male Israelite children in the Nile. We are talking, of course, about Pharaoh's decree.
And what was the Egyptians' ultimate fate? They, too, were drowned – not in a river, but in the sea. As the triumphant song in Exodus 15:1 declares, "I will sing unto the Lord, for he hath triumphed triumphantly; the horse and his rider hath he thrown into the sea."
See the echo? The midah k’neged midah in action. The very act the Egyptians inflicted on the innocent children becomes the instrument of their own destruction.
It's not about simple retribution, though. It's about cosmic justice, about the universe having a built-in mechanism that reflects back the energy we put out. Pride, cruelty, and oppression ultimately lead to downfall. And while this passage focuses on punishment, the same principle, of course, applies to acts of kindness and righteousness.
This idea of measure for measure, though, can be a tough one to grapple with. Does it mean every misfortune is a direct consequence of our actions? Not necessarily. Jewish thought also acknowledges the complexities of life, the presence of suffering that seems inexplicable. But Pirkei DeRabbi Eliezer reminds us that there are underlying patterns, echoes of our deeds that reverberate through the world.
So, the next time you face a challenge, or witness an injustice, remember Ben 'Azzai's words. Consider the deeper connections, the subtle ways in which actions create ripples. And remember that, ultimately, the universe has a way of balancing the scales.