The Torah tells us, "Behold, I will rain down tomorrow at this time very severe hail, that there has not been like it in Egypt since the day it was founded until now" (Exodus 9:18). The midrash, the rabbinic commentary, really digs into this. Specifically, Shemot Rabbah asks, how exact was this prediction?
According to Zavdi ben Levi, the prediction was incredibly specific. He says that Moses actually scratched a mark on the wall and told Pharaoh, "When the sun reaches here, the hail will fall tomorrow." Can you imagine? A literal countdown to divine wrath!
But the midrash doesn't stop there. It points out a subtle difference in the phrasing compared to the plague of the firstborn. Regarding the firstborn, it says, "Nor will be like it any more" (Exodus 11:6). But concerning the hail, it only says, "That there has not been like it." The implication? The hail was unprecedented, but not unrepeatable.
The Shemot Rabbah interprets this to mean that an even more severe hail is destined to fall in the future, specifically during the days of Gog and Magog – a messianic era of conflict described in the prophetic books. As it says in Job 38:23, God has "reserved for a time of trouble, for a day of battle and war," storehouses of hail. Similarly, Ezekiel 38:22 speaks of "torrential rain and hailstones" in that future time. So, while the Egyptian hail was devastating, it was just a taste of things to come, according to this interpretation.
Now, let's consider the mercy embedded within this seemingly harsh plague. God warns the Egyptians: "Now, send and gather your livestock and everything that is yours in the field; every man and animal that will be found in the field and will not be gathered into the house, the hail will fall upon them and they will die" (Exodus 9:19).
Isn't that amazing? Even in anger, the Holy One, blessed be He, shows compassion. Shemot Rabbah emphasizes this, noting that God didn't immediately unleash the hail. Instead, He gave the Egyptians a chance to protect themselves and their animals. Those who "feared the word of the Lord" heeded the warning and brought their servants and livestock indoors. Those who "disregarded the word of the Lord" left them exposed.
And who were these people? "He who feared the word of the Lord among the servants of Pharaoh," the Rabbis say, "that was Job." Yes, that Job, the righteous sufferer of the Book of Job. "And he who disregarded," that was Pharaoh and his people. Ginzberg, in Legends of the Jews, expands on this, painting a picture of divided loyalties and moral choices within Egyptian society.
So what does this all mean? This passage from Shemot Rabbah isn't just about a historical plague. It's about the precision of prophecy, the nuances of divine justice, and the enduring presence of mercy, even in times of wrath. And perhaps, most profoundly, it's about the choices we make when confronted with a divine warning: do we listen, or do we ignore?