The Match Between the Two Champions
So, they struck a deal. Instead of armies clashing, each chieftain would send one warrior—his best, his fiercest—to settle things in a duel. Winner takes all. The losing tribe would hand over its land and call it a day.
The champions were chosen, men so mighty they could snap an ox in half (or so the bards claimed). A deep pit was dug—because a fight is one thing, but watching a man get tossed into a pit is good entertainment. The rules were simple: first man to throw the other into the pit wins.
At last, the great match began. The warriors locked arms, muscles straining, sweat flying. The chieftains watched from the sidelines, each one confident, each one pretending not to be nervous. Then—suddenly!—one warrior seized the other, hoisted him into the air, and carried him straight to the edge of the pit. Victory was in sight!
But just as he was about to drop his opponent, the man in the air twisted free. With one swift motion, he flipped his captor into the pit instead. The crowd roared. The defeated chieftain went pale. The winning chieftain cheered. The pit, as usual, remained neutral.
The victorious chieftain rushed over to his champion, beaming. “Magnificent! You won the battle, secured my reign, and saved me a fortune in military spending.” Then his face darkened. “But listen—when that brute lifted you into the air and carried you toward the pit, my heart nearly stopped. For a moment, I saw my throne, my kingdom, my very life flashing before my eyes!”
The champion, wiping sweat from his brow, shrugged. “And yet, here we are.”
The chieftain sighed. “Yes. But next time—try to win without terrifying me.”Fulfilling the Promise to Abraham
Before the Israelites left Egypt, God made an unusual request of Moses:
"Please speak to the people, and let each man request from his [Egyptian] neighbor gold and silver articles. Let every woman make the same request of her neighbors." (Exodus 11:2)
The Midrash lingers on the word please. Why the supplication? The Sages explain: God did this to avoid a complaint—from Abraham, no less.
“You fulfilled the part of Your promise where my descendants would suffer—‘They will be enslaved and afflicted.’ That, You did well,” Abraham might say. “But ‘Afterwards they will leave with great wealth’? That part seems to be missing.”
Now, of course, God would keep His promise. He had no intention of shortchanging the Israelites. In fact, the real fortune would come later, at the Red Sea, when Pharaoh’s jewel-covered chariots sank and the Israelites gathered more wealth than they knew what to do with.
So why not just tell Abraham to be patient?
Because even the righteous get impatient when it comes to fairness. God could have waited for the grand payout at the sea, but He preferred to avoid a celestial argument. Instead, He asked the Israelites to borrow gold and silver from their neighbors—a little advance on the promise, just to keep Abraham from storming in with a complaint.
And so, the Israelites collected from the Egyptians on their way out. And at the Red Sea, they profited far more than they had ever imagined.
