This week’s parsha introduces the ten plagues, unleashing pain and devastation upon the Egyptians as Pharaoh stubbornly refuses to release his Jewish slaves or even allow them a few days to worship Hashem in the desert. These plagues are a wide array of afflictions, from frogs swarming across the land to the death of livestock and fiery hail that proves fatal to those caught outdoors. But why does Hashem choose these specific plagues to strike Egypt? And, of all things, why does the first plague involve turning the Nile into blood?
One explanation is that the Nile is afflicted first because it symbolizes Pharaoh’s pride. The Nile safeguarded Egypt from famine, as demonstrated repeatedly in Sefer Bereishit. Avraham travels to Egypt during a famine in Canaan, and Yitzchak is instructed to remain in Gerar rather than descend to Egypt during a famine in his time. Pharaoh even considered himself the god of the Nile, as described in Yechezkel (29:3), while Yeshayahu (19) foretells Egypt’s punishment through the eventual drying of the river. If the Nile’s significance is central to the first plague, why doesn’t Hashem simply dry it up, as Isaiah predicts? Why turn it into blood?
The Midrash (Mishnat Rabbi Eliezer 19) offers an answer: The Nile turns to blood as a response to the Egyptians’ use of the river to drown Jewish baby boys. The Nile, a source of life—providing drinking water and irrigation—was corrupted into an instrument of death. By turning the river to blood, Hashem vividly demonstrates the moral degradation of their actions. This aligns with the principle of middah k’neged middah (measure for measure), where the punishment reflects the crime. This principle is evident in the first plague and continues to the Egyptians’ ultimate demise at the splitting of the sea—in what can be called the final plague. Why are the Egyptians drowned? It is the just punishment for drowning Israelite infants in the Nile. The Talmud (Sotah 11a) connects this to Yitro’s declaration in Shemot 18: “Now I know that Hashem is greater than all the gods, for the very matter in which they schemed was turned against them.”
The Talmud in Sotah further emphasizes that just as punishments are delivered measure for measure, so too are rewards—on an even greater scale. Miriam, for instance, waited briefly by the water to ensure her brother’s safety, intervening to have him nursed by his mother before he was taken to the palace. In return, the entire Jewish people waited a full week for Miriam when she was afflicted with tzara’at after speaking ill of Moshe.
Today, as we pray to Hashem for salvation and justice in Israel and around the world, we reflect on the principle of “measure for measure.” We yearn for justice against our enemies, such as Hamas, who commit cruel and unprovoked attacks, preying on the defenseless. At the same time, we hope for immense rewards for the countless good deeds around us—soldiers risking their lives, individuals dedicating time and resources to support them and their families, and volunteers traveling to Israel to provide assistance and solidarity. May Hashem reward them all, measure for measure, beyond measure.
Rabbanit Sally Mayer serves as rosh midrasha at Ohr Torah Stone’s Midreshet Lindenbaum in Jerusalem. She is a member of the Mizrachi Speakers Bureau (www.mizrachi.org/speakers).
