Our story begins with the verse, "It was when Pharaoh let the people go..." (Exodus). But it's not just a simple statement. It's an invitation to reflect on the sheer audacity of God's actions. As Psalm 66:3 puts it, "Say to God: How awesome are your actions. Through the greatness of Your power Your enemies will dwindle before You.”
The Shemot Rabbah, a collection of rabbinic interpretations on the Book of Exodus, delves into this verse with a striking observation. Rabbi Yoḥanan, quoting Rabbi Elazar son of Rabbi Yosei HaGelili, exclaims: "Say to the good laborer: ‘Well done.’ How [astounding it is that] those who were [set to be] hanged, hang those who [would have] hanged them; those [set to be] executed, execute those who [would have] executed them." Haman, in the Book of Esther, plotted to hang Mordechai. But what happened? He and his sons ended up on the gallows he’d prepared (Esther 7:9-10, 9:10). Pharaoh commanded that every newborn Israelite son be cast into the Nile (Exodus 1:22) – a decree of death. And yet, Pharaoh and his army were themselves cast into the sea (Exodus 15:4). Poetic justice, wouldn't you say?
The Shemot Rabbah continues, linking the verse "Through the greatness of Your power Your enemies will dwindle [yekhaḥeshu] before You” to the idea of enemies' words turning against them. Rabbi Berekhya cleverly connects yekhaḥeshu to the Hebrew word vekhiḥesh (Leviticus 5:21), meaning "and he lies." In essence, their own words become their undoing.
Consider Nebuchadnezzar. He witnessed Hananya, Mishael, and Azarya (Shadrach, Meshach, and Abednego), unharmed in the fiery furnace, and even saw a fourth figure, "like a son of gods" (Daniel 3:25). But what did God do? According to the Midrash, He sent an accusing angel to Nebuchadnezzar, forcing him to retract his boastful words. Nebuchadnezzar was compelled to say, "Blessed be the God of Shadrakh, Meshakh, and Abednego, who sent His angel, and delivered His servants" (Daniel 3:28). He was forced to replace “son of gods” with “His angel.” His initial arrogance was diminished, his words twisted to praise the very God he had challenged.
And then Nebuchadnezzar proclaimed, "None can stay His hand [or say to Him: What have you done]" (Daniel 4:32). The Holy One, blessed be He, challenged him, "Wicked one from a putrid drop, are you suggesting that I perform injustice against any person?" Nebuchadnezzar was then compelled to admit, "For all His works are truth" (Daniel 4:34).
Even Pharaoh, in his stubborn defiance, eventually crumbled. He initially scoffed, "Who is the Lord [that I should heed Him…?]" (Exodus 5:2). But after enduring plague after plague, he conceded, "The Lord is righteous" (Exodus 9:27). He who once declared "And I will not let Israel go" (Exodus 5:2) was soon begging them to leave, circling among them, urging, "Go in peace, depart in peace."
The Midrash here isn't just recounting historical events. It's highlighting a profound truth: that arrogance and denial of God's power ultimately lead to humiliation and forced acknowledgment. The very words spoken in defiance become instruments of repentance.
So, what does this mean for us? Perhaps it's a reminder to be mindful of our own words, to avoid the trap of arrogance, and to recognize the power that resides in humility and faith. It’s also a comforting thought that even when faced with seemingly insurmountable odds, the tables can turn. The oppressor can become the oppressed, and the persecuted can find liberation. It’s a story of hope, resilience, and the enduring power of divine justice.