(כא) וַיֹּ֨אמֶר יְהֹוָ֜ה אֶל־מֹשֶׁ֗ה נְטֵ֤ה יָֽדְךָ֙ עַל־הַשָּׁמַ֔יִם וִ֥יהִי חֹ֖שֶׁךְ עַל־אֶ֣רֶץ מִצְרָ֑יִם וְיָמֵ֖שׁ חֹֽשֶׁךְ׃ (כב) וַיֵּ֥ט מֹשֶׁ֛ה אֶת־יָד֖וֹ עַל־הַשָּׁמָ֑יִם וַיְהִ֧י חֹֽשֶׁךְ־אֲפֵלָ֛ה בְּכׇל־אֶ֥רֶץ מִצְרַ֖יִם שְׁלֹ֥שֶׁת יָמִֽים׃ (כג) לֹֽא־רָא֞וּ אִ֣ישׁ אֶת־אָחִ֗יו וְלֹא־קָ֛מוּ אִ֥ישׁ מִתַּחְתָּ֖יו שְׁלֹ֣שֶׁת יָמִ֑ים וּֽלְכׇל־בְּנֵ֧י יִשְׂרָאֵ֛ל הָ֥יָה א֖וֹר בְּמוֹשְׁבֹתָֽם׃
(א) וימש חשך. ויחשיך עליהם חשך יותר מחשכו של לילה, וחשך של לילה יאמיש ויחשיך עוד: (ב) וימש. כמו ויאמש יש לנו תיבות הרבה חסרות אל''ף לפי שאין הברת האל''ף נכרת כל כך אין הכתוב מקפיד על חסרונה, כגון (ישע' יג כ) ולא יהל שם ערבי, כמו לא יאהל, לא יטה אהלו וכן (שמואל ב כב מ) ותזרני חיל, כמו ותאזרני. ואונקלוס תרגם לשון הסרה, כמו (שמות יג כב) לא ימיש בתר דיעדי קבל ליליא, כשיגיע סמוך לאור היום. אבל אין הדבר מישב על הוי''ו של וימש, לפי שהוא כתוב אחר ויהי חשך. ומדרש אגדה פותרו לשון (דברים כח כט) ממשש בצהרים, שהיה כפול ומכפל ועב עד שהיה בו ממש:
A darkness that can be touched: A darkness more dark than the dark of night. The dark of night grew darker still. The word translated as touch is really a form of the verb "to grow dark...." Onkelos takes the word to be from "to move away...." this he translates 'darkness upon the land of Egypt after the darkness of night has departed,' a darkness that would begin at dawn. But the Hebrew does not say 'after,' it says 'and.'
The midrash takes this verb to be from "to grope," indicating that the darkness was so thick it was doubled and redoubled, until it became a darkness of substance, mamash.
וימש חשך. והנה הטעם שימששו בידם החשך שכל כך יהיה עב כי האור של אש לא ידלק ולא הנר והעד לא ראו איש את אחיו. לא באור היום ולא באור הנרות:
EVEN DARKNESS WHICH MAY BE FELT....Now the meaning of ve-yamesh choshekh (even darkness which may be felt) is that the Egyptians will feel the darkness with their hands, for the darkness shall be so thick that neither a candle nor a fire shall give off light. They saw not one another (v. 23) neither by the light of day nor by candlelight is proof of the aforementioned.
וימש חשך. כפול ומכופל היה, אם היה המצרי עומד אינו יכול לישב, יושב אינו יכול לעמוד, רבוץ אינו יכול לזקוף.
The darkness was doubled and redoubled. If an Egyptian was standing, they were unable to sit; if sitting, they were unable to stand; if lying down, they were unable to rise.
Rabbi Julie Adler
According to this reading, darkness isn’t just the absence of light, but an entity of its own; it has substance and power. It immobilizes people, traps them, holds them down. If darkness were simply the absence of light, Egyptians could have lit candles to liberate themselves from it. But if the plague was not just an absence of light, if it had power over people as described by the midrash, it must be something altogether different from what we call “darkness”.
They did not see one another, neither did any rise from his place for three days...The greatest darkness is when a person does not see their fellow, and does not participate in the distress of others. "They did not see one another"--they did not feel the other's distress. Their senses were dulled-- "neither did any rise from his place."
--Even HaEzel (Isser Zalman Meltzer, 1870-1953)
There was a thick darkness...and they did not see one another for three days: If a person does not see their fellow, or does not want to see them, there is darkness in the world.
--Eshkol Ma'amarim
Rabbi Sharon Brous, IKAR High Holy Day Sermon 2018
The image of the moon, rising in the dark of night, gave me a God I could believe in, a source of unending hope. And it helped me understand why we, Jews, are moon people. Why we orient time around the lunar cycle. But there is a problem with the moon as a beacon of hope, a source of divine promise. The moon is not always visible. Sometimes it’s radiant and full bellied. Sometimes, it’s only partially visible. Some days, when we look into the night sky, we see no moon at all. Only darkness. What does it mean to orient your heart around a great light that you sometimes can’t even see? The moon plants in our hearts an eternal message: the light of hope that emerges in the dark of night is not steady and consistent. It’s fluid. Sometimes, it’s brilliant and bright and ambitious, and sometimes, it’s but a sliver of light.
And that’s not all. Rabban Gamliel taught already 2000 years ago: םימעפו הכוראב אבש םימעפ אבש הרצקב - sometimes the moon comes by a long path and sometimes it comes by a short one—which is why some months are shorter and some longer than others. From this we learn that sometimes the cycle of pain and healing will be very quick, and sometimes, it will feel interminable.
The important thing is to remember: the moon, like our spirits, is an object in motion. It will always come back around. For moon people, that is the essence of our spiritual mobility. Finally, the moon teaches us that even when no light is visible at all, even in the deepest darkness, our hearts trust and remember that the light will shine once again. Maybe even tomorrow. And—though it seems impossible to imagine today—it will even eventually reemerge in its fullness. Orienting our calendar around the moon means that hope is a muscle we practice month after month, year after year, generation after generation. It is a muscle that gets stronger as we use it.