We find ourselves in Shemot Rabbah, a treasure trove of rabbinic interpretations on the Book of Exodus. The verse in question is Exodus 8:12: “The Lord said to Moses: Say to Aaron: Extend your staff, and strike the dust of the earth, and it will become lice throughout the land of Egypt.” But why Aaron? Why not Moses?
Rabbi Tanchum offers a powerful explanation. The Holy One, blessed be He, says to Moses, ‘It is not proper that the dust that protected you when you killed the Egyptian will be stricken by you.’ Remember back in Exodus 2:12, when Moses, still in Egypt, saw an Egyptian taskmaster beating a Hebrew slave? Moses intervened, killing the Egyptian and burying him in the sand. That dust, that very earth, had concealed Moses, protecting him from immediate repercussions.
So, according to this midrash, Moses was spared from wielding the plague of lice. The first three plagues – blood, frogs, and lice – all originate from either the water or the dust. These elements had, in a way, shown kindness to Moses. It would have been an act of profound ingratitude for him to then turn around and use them to inflict suffering, even on the Egyptians.
And the midrash doesn’t stop there. It asks: why lice specifically? Shemot Rabbah tells us it’s because the Egyptians had forced the Israelites to be sweepers of the streets and marketplaces. They demeaned the Israelites by forcing them into the dust. Therefore, their dust turned into lice, a measure-for-measure retribution. The Egyptians dug, expecting to find dust to further their oppression, but found only swarming pests. A chilling consequence of their mistreatment.
The story takes another interesting turn when the Egyptian magicians try to replicate the plague of lice. "The magicians did so with their spells to bring out the lice, but they could not," as Exodus 8:14 tells us.
Rabbi Elazar draws a fascinating conclusion from this failure: a demon is unable to create something smaller than a barley-bulk. The Rabbis offer a slightly different take: They cannot even create something the size of a camel; rather, this it can gather and this it cannot gather. Meaning, even if demons can move large objects, they can't conjure something incredibly small like a louse.
And so, the magicians are forced to concede. "The magicians said to Pharaoh: It is the finger of God." (Exodus 8:15). When they realized they couldn't produce the lice, they immediately understood that these plagues were divine acts, beyond the realm of their magic. They stopped trying to imitate Moses, finally acknowledging a power far greater than their own.
What does it all mean? This passage from Shemot Rabbah isn’t just a historical account. It’s a lesson in gratitude, in recognizing the kindness we've received, and in the limits of even the darkest magic. It reminds us that even in the midst of divine justice, there's room for ethical considerations, for acknowledging the interconnectedness of all things. It's a powerful testament to the depth and complexity of our tradition.