We all know the story of the Exodus, of course, but let's delve into a fascinating piece of Midrash, specifically from Shemot Rabbah 19, which sheds light on the often-overlooked details surrounding the very first Pesach, the Passover sacrifice.
The story starts with a seemingly simple commandment: "This is the statute of the paschal offering." Rabbi Shimon ben Ḥalafta paints a vivid picture: God, blessed be He, instructs Moses to be especially careful about the mitzvah, the commandment, of the Passover offering. Only those who are circumcised can partake. "No foreigner shall eat of it," God says, "but anyone’s servant, bought for silver, you shall circumcise him – [then he shall eat of it]." (Exodus 12:43-44).
Why this emphasis on circumcision? The Midrash uses a powerful analogy. Imagine a king throwing a magnificent feast for all his beloved subjects. But, the king declares, no one without the proper emblem can enter. In this case, the "emblem" is the covenant of Abraham, signified by circumcision.
According to our Rabbis, the Israelites in Egypt hadn't exactly been rushing to maintain this covenant. In fact, the Midrash states plainly that "Israel did not seek to circumcise in Egypt; in fact, they all abolished circumcision in Egypt," with one notable exception: the tribe of Levi. As Deuteronomy 33:8-9 tells us, "And of Levi he said: Your Tumim [wholeheartedness] and Your Urim [lights]…[because] they observed Your word and kept Your covenant." The Tumim and Urim, often translated as perfection and light, were divinely inspired objects that were bequeathed to the tribe of Levi. The Midrash interprets these names as symbols of their steadfast commitment.
So, what’s a God to do when His people need redeeming, but lack the merit? God calls upon Moses, or some say it was Joshua, to circumcise the people. As Joshua 5:2 says, "And again circumcise the children of Israel, a second time." But not everyone was thrilled with this proposition, shall we say.
Here's where it gets truly interesting. God decrees that they must perform the paschal offering. And once Moses does, God commands the four winds from the Garden of Eden to cleave to that offering. "Awake, north [wind], and come, south [wind]," as the Song of Songs 4:16 puts it. The aroma of the offering becomes so potent, it travels for forty days! The people, famished by the tantalizing scent, beg Moses for a taste. But God is firm: "If you will not be circumcised you will not eat."
The result? The Israelites submit, and the blood of the paschal offering mingles with the blood of circumcision. And in that moment, a profound transformation occurs. God passes over them, taking each one, kissing and blessing them. As Ezekiel 16:6 proclaims, "And I passed over you, and saw you wallowing in your blood [damayikh], and I said to you: In your blood, you shall live; I said to you: In your blood, you shall live." The Midrash understands damayikh, the plural form of blood, to signify both the blood of the paschal offering and the blood of circumcision.
So, what's the takeaway? This Midrash on Shemot Rabbah 19 isn't just a historical anecdote. It's a powerful reminder that redemption often requires commitment, sacrifice, and a willingness to embrace the covenant. It emphasizes that physical acts, like circumcision, can have profound spiritual consequences, especially when combined with sincere intention. It makes us consider the cost and the meaning of freedom, and reminds us that sometimes, the sweetest aromas come from the hardest-won battles.