MIDRASH
Yomi
They called it the "Angel of Death." But it was actually me. I'm usually sad about my powers, but that day, I got to play an important role in the liberation of a people. This was a day where I used powers that I had not before or since, in order to show a people about God.
Let me backtrack a bit. As you know, we do not act in linear time. In the twentieth century, we helped a film maker make a realistic film about war. The film was directed by a known actor, you've perhaps heard of. Frank Sinatra? Originally, the film was to be a pro-war film, but it lacked depth. So we helped create a pocket universe for him, so he could test out ideas. Rinne, Seishi, and myself did an actual death and rebirth simulation, Bosatsu created the artificial universe, Chiku and Engaku managed the forests and calculated the military physics of weapons respectively. Because of this, he was able to test until he had just the story he wanted. He concluded that war was pointless, and wrote a story called None But The Brave. In the set that we had made, some troops from United States were stranded on an island with some Japanese fighters. They were both cut off from their chain of command, and both forced into a desperate survival situation. The simulation that he filmed showed them working together as if there was no war, but as soon as the situation resolved, they had to go back to fighting. The end of the movie had this tagline, "Nobody ever wins."
After this, we headed to the past, where God had decided to help out a group of Jews that were being enslaved by Egypt. We ordinarily just carried out the aftermath of such conflicts, for example, if there was a violent revolt in Franch and bodies were left bloody in the street, I worked with my Pales to clean up the mess, between reaping the souls and having birds peck at the flesh, and decomposition. But here, the Jews had mostly managed to avoid overt conflict thanks to the decision of a man named Moses to follow God's command. He told the Egyptian Pharaoh, "Let my people go!" The Pharaoh, of course, was reluctant. He had a large workforce for public projects, population problems aside. But Moses persisted, and it helped that God had hired Chiku and I to help out. Nine of these were our project, but for the last, God and I worked together. Mostly, he did all the special effects, I just reaped the souls that he marked. These were firstborn children, who did not live in a house that had blood on the door painted by hyssop. In addition to this bloody door, they ate unleavened bread as commanded by God, had bitter herbs, this apple dish that was supposed to represent mortar, eggs, and they were specifically required to take a lamb and dry-roast it. They were to eat all of this hurriedly, and if any was left over the next day, they had to burn it. So many families that had too much had to share it. And so, the people wandered away from Egypt led by a pillar of fire. They crossed the sea, only to have their pursuers drown when they tried to follow.
I was curious how all of that turned out for them, so I decided to check on them. In the meantime, some of these Jews had been exiled to Babylon, while others had stayed behind. Some of them sacrificed the lamb on the Temple they had built, while others worshiped at the mountain near them. The former group called themselves Jews, while the latter called themselves Samaritans or "Keepers." Each accused the other of not being real Jews, with the Samaritans accusing the others of being corrupted by Babylonian captivity. But it was clear that God had chosen the Jews, and that meant just that. Not the people who called themselves the Jews, but both groups. All of them were descendants of Noah, Abraham, Isaac, and Jacob. All of them suffered through bondage from Egypt, and all had the Ten Commandments.
Time went on, and the Jews lost their Temple. They debated among themselves about what to do next, since for years they had a sacrifice at the Temple. Some said that they should sacrifice the animals at home, but the prevailing decision was to instead have a token lamb shank in remember of the fact that the temple was gone. As time went on, they ate other foods as the main entree, including fish or chicken. But the law actually said this.
The Lord said to Moses and Aaron in Egypt, “This month is to be for you the first month, the first month of your year. Tell the whole community of Israel that on the tenth day of this month each man is to take a lamb for his family, one for each household. If any household is too small for a whole lamb, they must share one with their nearest neighbor, having taken into account the number of people there are. You are to determine the amount of lamb needed in accordance with what each person will eat. The animals you choose must be year-old males without defect, and you may take them from the sheep or the goats. Take care of them until the fourteenth day of the month, when all the members of the community of Israel must slaughter them at twilight. Then they are to take some of the blood and put it on the sides and tops of the doorframes of the houses where they eat the lambs. That same night they are to eat the meat roasted over the fire, along with bitter herbs, and bread made without yeast. Do not eat the meat raw or boiled in water, but roast it over a fire—with the head, legs and internal organs. Do not leave any of it till morning; if some is left till morning, you must burn it. This is how you are to eat it: with your cloak tucked into your belt, your sandals on your feet and your staff in your hand. Eat it in haste; it is the Lord’s Passover.
Nothing here said that sheep was clean and goat was unclean, yet the Jews of the temple separated them. Nothing here mentioned chicken or fish, yet when they stopped eating lamb, they thought that was okay, even though they were told to eat lamb. Nothing here said anything about the Temple or Temple Mount, or even used the word "sacrifice." Nor was there mention of a rabbi in this section. It said to choose a lamb without any blemish, and for each man to kill one and share it with families that did not have enough. This community event was thrown aside because these Jews thought they needed things that they never used before the Temple was built. Meanwhile, the Jewish government actually made it illegal to sacrifice lamb (it wasn't clear if this rule only extended to the Temple Mount and people could do so privately, or whether they would beat down someone's door like a drug raid; I chuckled to myself at the idea of police confiscating sheep). On the other hand, the Samaritans still killed sheep every Passover. And then there were the Christians, who often ate sheep to remind them that Jesus was the Lamb of God, but it wasn't a mandatory sacrifice at all. All of this was a mess.
It wasn't my business, I told myself. I was a Reaper, and mortal concerns were fleeting. But I had seen the squabbles and bloodshed this led to. And my heart was moved. But never so much as this day...
Jacob
"Don't die!" I pleaded. Adonai had brought my mother and I back to this land after a Holocaust and centuries of being without a true home. Adolf Eichmann and many of the others that had persecuted our people had been brought to justice, and other countries helped us found our homeland again. I was still a child when all of this had been happening, but mother lived through it. She was my mother, and invested in making sure that I was healthy and found a good woman.
I wasn't even certain whether our people were persecuted with the other Jews when the Nazis had their Holocaust. Mom didn't like to talk about the past. Our people moved back to the Nablus area centuries ago, and we have had a family farm for centuries at the on the outskirts of Mount Gerizim. We were Samaritans, but we lived in a farm in a small town right next to a Jewish family headed by a man named Solomon that had more recently moved here. Solomon had moved here with his wife and children when the stress of city life had gotten to him, and it always seemed like he had trouble with his parents. In any case, after a long period of adjustment, his family settled near us.
If there was a map of Palestinian and Jewish controlled areas, Solomon and I lived just over the line where it had dual control, as I lived just slightly east of Nablus. It was a bit harder of a trip to Mount Gerizim, so I usually had to walk a bit in order to worship. I wasn't as close to my Samaritan brethren as I could have been, but this was where our farm had always been. I had never found a wife. Nonetheless, my mother had been a great help. And now she was dying, leaving me alone.
I prayed and I prayed, but it was her time. She had always struggled with a mysterious bad cough, and now the sickness was claiming her. She gave a final pathetic wheeze and died. The timing couldn't have been worse. I had slaughtered a lamb only hours ago in preparation for Passover. My brothers and sisters had gone to Ukraine, because our community had grown too small, and I had not heard back from them. Knowing what I did about the weather this time of year around there, I wasn't convinced they would arrive in time for Passover. And so I asked around, but it was a long walk and dinner was almost upon us. Ultimately, I had to ask my neighbor Solomon if he would join us.
Solomon
I saw that Jacob needed company during this difficult time. His mother had just died, his family was not here to visit, and there was nobody in his community that would help, as they already had food. We agreed to spend time with him, and to ease his discomfort. And his family had done us many good deeds when we worked on our farm in the past. Jacob's mother, especially, had taught us several techniques when we first moved to this area. My wife and I were a family from the big city, who wanted to get away from the bustle, and she helped us adjust to farm lifestyle.
But we couldn't help him with his lamb. And so, while he said, "Barukh atah Adonai Eloheynu melekh ha-olam asher kidshanu b’mitzvotav v’tzivanu lehadlik ner shel yom tov" and blessed the food, we began to become more and more uncomfortable. The wine was blessed, the washing preparation was done, the spring vegetables began to be eaten. Then the matzoh was divided, and the symbols were shown. Our children asked the questions.
Why is this night different from all other nights?
On all other nights we eat leavened products and matzah, and on this night only matzah.
On all other nights we eat all vegetables, and on this night only bitter herbs.
On all other nights, we don’t dip our food even once, and on this night we dip twice.
On all other nights we eat sitting or reclining, and on this night we only recline.
It was explained that these were symbols of the Exodus, how we had to leave quickly, and baked bread in a hurry. How these herbs were bitter to reflect the bitter slavery of our people. And so on. We ate the matzoh and bitter herbs, and sang songs such as Dayenu. It was rapidly nearing the time where the Paschal Lamb would be eaten.
But my family glared at me.
As I had learned from studying history, at one point after the fall of the temple, it had been proposed that they instead eat at home. But peer pressure had won out, and the Jewish people said no more lamb should be sacrificed if there wasn't a temple. From then on, we ate vegan dishes or chicken or fish, but lamb was off the menu.
Here too, peer pressure won out. I caved. Jacob put his hand on my back, as though to say, "It's okay, I'm not gonna hold this against you." The two of us sighed.
Soon the meal was over. The unfinished lamb sat there. Our children looked for the afikomen, the hidden matzoh, said grace after the meal, sang songs of praise, and opened the door for Elijah. Rather than Elijah, a strange man with long hair and some disc-shaped scars on his wrists entered, and sat down at the vacant chair. He grabbed the lamb, and began gnawing at it around the sinew of the thigh that is on the hip socket. Needless to say, all of us were appalled. But even though some of the family clearly wanted to remove him from Elijah's seat, none of us moved. He was clearly a Christian, because he did not observe our laws. But we had been taught something about entertaining angels unawares, so we gave him a (begrudging) welcome. But I could tell that Jacob was relieved that someone was able to eat his lamb. Then as suddenly as he appeared, he greeted us, blessed our friendship, and walked out of sight.
Yomi
That day, the life of a lamb was given in vain. I reaped it with my scythe, I waited for Solomon's family to reconsider, but Jacob had to eat most of the thing himself. Obviously, that wasn't possible. And so, the next day, a practically whole lamb was burned to cinders. I sighed. These people were not at war with each other, yet even so, a simple gift of food was loaded down with too much historical baggage.
Then I heard the lamb soul bleating at me. "Oh all right. Come along then," I said. I gave it to Rinne, who escorted it to the Afterlife. The lamb would have an Afterlife filled with contentedly munching grass, where nobody would demand its life. For it had suffered enough.
As for Jacob, he did eventually find a wife to keep him company. His siblings returned from Ukraine with a blond woman with mysterious scars on her wrists.
She never explained where they were from, and Jacob never asked. Instead, he read to his children the story of his namesake Jacob wrestling a man, and how during the battle his hip had been injured. "And that," he explained, "is why the people of Abraham, Isaac, and Jacob never eat the meat near the sinew of the thigh that is on the hip socket."
