Shemot Rabbah, a collection of rabbinic interpretations on the Book of Exodus, gives us a fascinating take on the plague of frogs. We all remember the story: Egypt is overrun with frogs, a punishment sent by God because Pharaoh refuses to free the Israelites. But Shemot Rabbah 10 digs deeper into the verse from Exodus 8:8, "Moses and Aaron emerged from Pharaoh; and Moses cried to the Lord regarding the frogs that He had brought upon Pharaoh."
It wasn't just the destruction that the frogs caused, says our tradition. The sound of the frogs, that incessant croaking, was "harsher for them than the physical damage." Can you imagine? The frogs didn't just hop around; they "would enter their bodies and scream inside them." Now, that's a vivid image! The text even makes a clever play on words: "Regarding [al devar] the frogs…regarding the speech [al dibur] of the frogs." It's not just about the frogs themselves, but about their voices, their incessant croaking that drove the Egyptians mad.
And what happened when Moses prayed, and God heeded his call? "The Lord did according to the word of Moses; and the frogs died from the houses, from the courts, and from the fields" (Exodus 8:9). But the story doesn't end there. The frogs died, and according to Shemot Rabbah, they died completely, because the Egyptians "could derive no benefit from their carcasses or their skin." This is contrasted with the plagues of wild animals and locusts. Those plagues, as we read in Exodus 8:27 and 10:19, simply "departed" from Egypt, leaving open the possibility that the Egyptians might have used their remains. But the frogs? They were rendered utterly useless.
"They gathered them in heaps; and the land stank" (Exodus 8:10). Imagine the stench! The Midrash tells us that "each and every one of them made four piles," creating mountains of decaying frogs. Why this detail? Because, the text explains, "Israel reeked from the blows administered by the Egyptians, it is measure for measure." Midah k'neged midah, as we say in Hebrew. Measure for measure. The Egyptians inflicted suffering, and now they, too, must experience something repulsive and unbearable.
And then, the inevitable happens. "Pharaoh saw that there was respite, he hardened his heart, and did not heed them; as the Lord had spoken" (Exodus 8:11). Shemot Rabbah points out, "this is the way of the wicked; when they are in trouble they scream, but when there is respite they return to their evil ways." How often do we see this pattern, not just in Pharaoh, but in ourselves? We promise change when things are difficult, but quickly revert when the pressure is off.
Finally, the text reminds us, "As the Lord had spoken" – where did He speak? "I know that the king of Egypt will not let you go" (Exodus 3:19). God knew all along. Even with miracles and plagues, Pharaoh's heart was destined to remain hardened.
So, what does this all mean? Perhaps it's a reminder to pay attention to the things that truly bother us, the subtle irritations that can wear us down more than outright pain. And maybe, just maybe, it's a warning about the fleeting nature of promises made in times of trouble. Are we truly changed, or do we simply revert when the pressure is off? The story of the frogs, as seen through the lens of Shemot Rabbah, offers us a lot to think about, doesn't it?