It’s a story filled with palace intrigue, near-fatal tests, and a touch of divine intervention. We all know the basics: baby Moses in a basket, found by Pharaoh's daughter. But Shemot Rabbah, a classical collection of rabbinic commentary on the Book of Exodus, gives us a much richer, more suspenseful account.
"The child grew," the Torah tells us, "and she brought him to Pharaoh’s daughter and he was a son to her. She named him Moses and she said: Because I drew him from the water” (Exodus 2:10). Simple enough, right? But the Rabbis in Shemot Rabbah weren’t satisfied with the surface-level reading. They ask: he was nursed for only twenty-four months, so how could the Torah say "the child grew" so quickly? The answer, they suggest, is that Moses was growing in a way that was truly exceptional, remarkable even in the land of Egypt.
Pharaoh’s daughter, Batya, adored him. She showered him with kisses and hugs, treating him as her own flesh and blood. He was so beautiful that everyone wanted to see him, and once they did, they couldn’t tear themselves away! Even Pharaoh himself would kiss and embrace the little boy.
And here's where the story takes a truly wild turn. Little Moses, in his innocent play, would take Pharaoh’s crown and place it on his own head. Now, why is that significant? Shemot Rabbah points out the parallel: just as the Holy One said to Hiram in Ezekiel (28:18), "I have drawn fire from your midst…," meaning that the very thing that would destroy him would originate within his own household. So too, Pharaoh’s daughter was raising the very person destined to bring about his downfall. The text even draws a parallel to the messianic king who will ultimately exact retribution from Edom.
But Pharaoh’s magicians weren’t blind. They saw the child placing the crown on his head and became deeply concerned. "We are afraid of this one," they warned, "lest he be the one who will wrest your kingdom from you!" A debate erupted: should they behead him? Burn him alive?
Luckily for Moses (and for the future of the Israelites!), Yitro – yes, that Yitro, Moses’s future father-in-law – was present. He stepped in with a suggestion, a cunning plan to determine whether this child was truly a threat. "This boy has no intelligence," he argued. "Let’s test him."
So, they brought before Moses a bowl filled with gold and a hot coal. The idea was simple: if the child reached for the gold, it would prove he was aware of its value and, therefore, a danger to the throne. If, however, he reached for the hot coal, it would indicate a lack of understanding and spare his life.
Immediately, Moses reached for the glittering gold. But at that very moment, the angel Gabriel intervened! He guided Moses’s hand, causing him to grab the burning coal instead. The child thrust the coal into his mouth, searing his tongue. This, Shemot Rabbah tells us, is why Moses later described himself as "slow of speech and slow of tongue" (Exodus 4:10). A near-fatal mistake, turned into a divine safeguard.
And finally, the text emphasizes the power of a good deed. "She named him Moses," the Torah says, and Shemot Rabbah highlights that despite whatever other names Moses might have had, the one that stuck, the one used throughout the Torah, was the name given to him by Batya, Pharaoh's daughter. Even God, the Rabbis point out, uses no other name.
So, what does this all mean? It's a reminder that stories we think we know often have hidden depths. The Rabbis of Shemot Rabbah invite us to look beyond the surface, to see the intricate web of cause and effect, divine intervention, and human choice that shapes even the most familiar narratives. It also shows us that even those who seem to be our enemies can be the source of unexpected blessings, and that even a small act of kindness, like giving a child a name, can have a lasting impact on history.