Image: Mohamad Babayan (unsplash) It’s just a stick, really, probably oak; the kind given to small round-eyed boys when they are first taken along to help with the sheep. The sticks get longer and stronger as the boys grow into men, but they remain what they are, an extension of the shepherd’s arm, almost part of his body. A shepherd without a staff is inconceivable. So when God says, “What's that in your hand?” (Exod. 4:2) Moses at first looks down, having forgotten that the knotted staff is where it always is. God shows him a magic trick using the staff, and from then on that simple wooden stick becomes a player in the drama of Israel’s redemption. Moses shows off the stick-to-snake trick to his people to establish his credibility, then Aaron gets a turn doing the same before Pharaoh. Held out over the Nile, the rod later makes the river run with blood; the rod summons the frogs and the lice. The rod is revered. The rod is feared. Back in Moses’ hands, it is the rod
Just what it says: a little midrash, a filling in of some of the lacunae Torah leaves in the lives of its characters. The stories lay no claim to being right, but they do explore what is possible. Texts don't sit still long enough to have fixed meanings; too often we assume that Torah is done and finished. It is never finished.