Get out as fast as possible! But Exodus 13:17 tells us, "It was when Pharaoh let the people go, God did not lead them via the land of the Philistines, although it was near, as God said: Lest the people reconsider when they see war and return to Egypt.”
But the Rabbis, never content with the surface meaning, dig deeper. Shemot Rabbah, a classic collection of Midrash, sees in those words a reflection of past events, a cosmic pattern of divine intervention and human stubbornness. It all starts with a seemingly unrelated verse from Proverbs: “A whip for the horse, and a bridle for the donkey, and a staff for the back of fools” (Proverbs 26:3). What does that have to do with the Exodus?
Well, the Midrash interprets each phrase as a veiled reference to key figures who challenged Abraham and his descendants. “A whip for the horse” becomes a stand-in for the first Pharaoh, the one who took Sarah, Abraham’s wife. Remember that story from Genesis 12? According to Shemot Rabbah, this Pharaoh was punished for his actions: “The Lord afflicted Pharaoh…over the matter of Sarai, Abram’s wife” (Genesis 12:17). The Midrash even emphasizes "Abram's wife," noting that "two are better than one" (Ecclesiastes 4:9), suggesting the Pharaoh was struck down because of the combined merit of both Abraham and Sarah.
Then comes the "bridle for the donkey," which represents Avimelekh. Remember him? He also tried to take Sarah! The Midrash references Genesis 20:18: “As the Lord had closed all the wombs of the house of Avimelekh.” Avimelekh, in his arrogance, claimed innocence, saying, “In the innocence of my heart and the cleanliness of my hands I did this” (Genesis 20:5). But God sets him straight: “I withheld you from sinning against Me” (Genesis 20:6).
The Midrash cleverly uses a parable to illustrate this point: A donkey is walking down the street and jumps over a baby, avoiding harm. People praise the donkey, but the owner says, "Were it not for me who pulled [it away with] the bridle in its mouth, it would have harmed it!" The Holy One, blessed be He, is like that owner, preventing Avimelekh from doing wrong, even if Avimelekh wants to take credit. The Midrash even quotes Psalms 140:9: “Lord, do not grant the desires of the wicked.”
And what about "a staff for the back of fools"? That, according to the Midrash, is none other than Pharaoh of the Exodus and his Egyptian minions. They were devastated by the plagues, yet they stubbornly refused to let Israel go until the very last minute. Shemot Rabbah sees their eventual, begrudging release of the Israelites as a direct result of divine punishment, not a change of heart.
To further illustrate this, the Midrash tells another parable, this time of a herdsman who steals a sheep. The king, who owns the sheep, tries everything to get it back, each time being rebuffed by the herdsman. Only when the king takes the herdsman's son does he finally relent. This, says the Midrash, is like Pharaoh holding onto Israel, despite all the plagues, until God takes his firstborn.
The Midrash emphasizes the futility of Pharaoh's resistance. Even after releasing the Israelites, he pursues them, leading to his ultimate demise at the Red Sea. The text connects the "staff" to the plague of boils, referencing Job 9:34, where Job cries out, "Let Him remove His staff from upon me." Only when afflicted with boils did the Egyptians realize the severity of their situation.
So, what's the takeaway? The Midrash in Shemot Rabbah isn't just rehashing Bible stories. It's showing us how history rhymes. It suggests that these encounters with Abraham, Sarah, Avimelekh, and Pharaoh are not isolated incidents but part of a larger pattern of divine intervention and human resistance. Even the name "Vayhi," usually translated as "it was," is reinterpreted as "Woe, woe!" echoing Pharaoh's despair as he finally lets the people go. It’s a reminder that even when we think we're in control, there might be a greater force at play, guiding us – sometimes kicking and screaming – towards a destiny we can't fully comprehend. Powerful, isn't it?