In the Book of Exodus, we read, "The Lord said to Moses: Say to Aaron: Extend your hand with your staff over the rivers, over the canals, and over the pools, and cause frogs to ascend upon the land of Egypt" (Exodus 8:1). But why Aaron? Why not Moses directly?
Rabbi Tanchum, as quoted in Shemot Rabbah, offers a beautiful reason. The Holy One, blessed be He, says to Moses: "The water that protected you when you were cast into the Nile will not be stricken by you." The very river that cradled Moses as a baby, saving him from certain death, would be spared his direct involvement in bringing the plague of blood. It's a powerful image of gratitude and respect.
So, Aaron extends his hand, and "the frogs ascended and covered the land of Egypt" (Exodus 8:2). But why frogs in the first place? Shemot Rabbah gives us another insight: because the Egyptians were enslaving the Israelites and forcing them to deal with "repugnant creatures and creeping animals." It was a way to humiliate them. So, in a sense, the plague of frogs becomes a divine act of middah k’neged middah, measure for measure. The Egyptians subjected the Israelites to disgusting tasks, and now they are inundated with disgust themselves.
Imagine the scene: you pour yourself a cup of water, and it's filled with frogs!
Now, here's where the story gets even more interesting. The Torah tells us, "And the frogs [hatzfarde’a] ascended and covered…" Notice anything peculiar? The Hebrew word for frogs, hatzfarde’a, is in the singular.
This little detail sparks a debate in the Midrash. Rabbi Akiva says it was just one frog! A single, super-frog that then spawned and multiplied until it covered the entire land of Egypt. Quite a visual, isn't it?
But Rabbi Elazar ben Azarya isn't buying it. He playfully chides Rabbi Akiva, saying, "Akiva, what are you doing engaged in aggada?" Aggada refers to the storytelling, the non-legal parts of the Talmud. Rabbi Elazar suggests Akiva stick to what he knows best – halakha, the Jewish legal code, especially complex areas like "the laws of leprosy and impurity of tents." In other words: your expertise is in matters of Jewish law, not fanciful tales!
Rabbi Elazar offers a different explanation: "There was one frog that whistled to [the others], and they came." A single frog acted as a sort of signal, summoning the rest of the amphibious army.
Finally, "The magicians did so with their spells, and caused the frogs to ascend upon the land of Egypt" (Exodus 8:3). The Shemot Rabbah explains that the Egyptian magicians believed these actions were the work of demons. They thought they could replicate the miracle through dark magic.
So, what do we take away from this story of frogs? It's more than just a tale of a slimy plague. It's about divine respect, poetic justice, and the power of storytelling itself. It's about the reminder that even in the midst of hardship and suffering, there can be meaning, and even a bit of humor, if we look closely enough. And it begs the question: what kind of frog story do you believe?