The Torah portion Va’era opens with a divine promise to Moses. As leader of the people, Moses is deeply troubled by the harsh conditions of the Children of Israel, groaning under brutal enslavement in Egypt.
The Holy One, blessed be He, reassures him: “All that you have seen until now is but preparation for what is to come. This is a descent for the sake of ascent. From this point on, you will see what I shall do to Pharaoh and his people, until the Children of Israel leave Egypt with a mighty hand and an outstretched arm, before the eyes of the entire world.”
Thus begins a dramatic sequence of miracles and supernatural events that shake the strongest empire of that era, leading to its total subjugation and to the liberation of a people who had been enslaved for some 210 years. The Children of Israel go forth to freedom and to the building of their future, a future prepared for them since the days of creation.
Yet within this entire historical upheaval, precisely when the Holy One, blessed be He, first reveals His power to His people with the plague of blood, we encounter a surprising directive. Thus, the Torah states:
“And the Lord said to Moses: Say to Aaron, ‘Take your staff and stretch out your hand over the waters of Egypt – over their rivers, over their canals, over their ponds, and over all their gatherings of water – and they shall become blood; and there shall be blood throughout all the land of Egypt, even in vessels of wood and vessels of stone’” (Exodus 7:19).
‘Stretch out your hand with your staff over the rivers'
A similar formulation appears with the second plague, the plague of frogs: “And the Lord said to Moses: Say to Aaron, ‘Stretch out your hand with your staff over the rivers, over the canals, and over the ponds, and bring up the frogs upon the land of Egypt’” (Exodus 8:1).
The Holy One, blessed be He, speaks to Moses, but in practice, commands him to instruct Aaron to perform the act. It is Aaron who stretches out his hand over the waters and turns them to blood, and it is he who causes the frogs to rise from the Nile, and later the lice to emerge from the dust.
This raises a question: Is it not fitting that Moses himself, the great leader, should perform the first plagues? Why specifically here is he required to turn to his brother? And why in the later plagues does Moses indeed act on his own?
The midrash answers:
“Why were the plagues of blood, frogs, and lice brought about by Aaron? Rabbi Tanchum said: The Holy One, blessed be He, said to Moses: The waters that protected you when you were cast into the Nile, and the dust that shielded you when you killed the Egyptian – is it right that they should be struck by your hand? This is what people say: ‘Do not throw a stone into a well from which you drank water’” (Shemot Rabbah 9:10).
To the casual reader, this is almost inconceivable. The Egyptians tormented the Children of Israel for centuries with unparalleled cruelty. Now the moment of judgment has arrived – and this is what matters? Who will strike the Nile and who will strike the dust? The Holy One, blessed be He, strikes Egypt with overwhelming plagues, and this precision stands at the center?
The answer touches the very core of the Jewish worldview: gratitude. This outlook teaches that nothing is self-evident and that a person has no absolute ownership over anything. Every moment of life is a reason for thanksgiving.
As our sages taught: “Anyone who denies the good done to him by his fellow will ultimately deny the good done to him by God” (Midrash Tanchuma, “Shemot” 5).
The habit of recognizing good is what makes us human. The refusal to acknowledge, the fear of feeling indebted – these first distance a person from relationships with others, and eventually from the relationship with the creator, a relationship founded entirely on the recognition that everything comes from Him.
This sensitivity is so delicate that it must be sharpened even toward inanimate objects. The water through which you were saved, the dust that protected you – if you strike them, something within your inner moral sense will erode.
From here begins a dangerous shift in perception: “They did their part; now I have a mission.” A person must train himself in goodness, to be good, to recognize good. Any small crack in this awareness can widen into indifference, and even into cruelty toward those who benefited you.
In the modern world, a feeling has become widespread that “everything is owed to me.” To thank another? To recognize good? Why should I feel indebted to anyone?
But this feeling is dangerous. It creates alienation, loneliness, and extreme individualism: the driver, the cashier, the flight attendant, and even family members – they are all “just doing their job,” and that has nothing to do with me.
The message with which the Holy One, blessed be He, begins the sequence of the Ten Plagues is a foundation for a more repaired world. Everything begins here: If you accustom yourself to gratitude, you yourself will become better.
You will know how to do good, others will want to help, and a circle of kindness and beneficence will be created. Ultimately, you will learn to recognize the good within yourself as well.
How good it is to be good.
The writer is rabbi of the Western Wall and holy sites.