Catholic Commentary
The Fifth Plague: Pestilence on Egyptian Livestock
1Then Yahweh said to Moses, “Go in to Pharaoh, and tell him, ‘This is what Yahweh, the God of the Hebrews, says: “Let my people go, that they may serve me.2For if you refuse to let them go, and hold them still,3behold, Yahweh’s hand is on your livestock which are in the field, on the horses, on the donkeys, on the camels, on the herds, and on the flocks with a very grievous pestilence.4Yahweh will make a distinction between the livestock of Israel and the livestock of Egypt; and nothing shall die of all that belongs to the children of Israel.”’”5Yahweh appointed a set time, saying, “Tomorrow Yahweh shall do this thing in the land.”6Yahweh did that thing on the next day; and all the livestock of Egypt died, but of the livestock of the children of Israel, not one died.7Pharaoh sent, and, behold, there was not so much as one of the livestock of the Israelites dead. But the heart of Pharaoh was stubborn, and he didn’t let the people go.
Exodus 9:1–7 describes the fifth plague, in which God sends a pestilence that kills all Egyptian livestock while sparing Israel's animals as a sign of covenantal distinction. Despite witnessing this miraculous act, Pharaoh refuses to release the Israelites, demonstrating his hardened resistance to God's repeated demands for their freedom to worship Him.
Pharaoh sees the miracle with his own eyes—Israel's livestock alive while Egypt's are slaughtered—and chooses hardness anyway. This is the real danger: not disbelief from ignorance, but refusal despite evidence.
Commentary
Exodus 9:1 — The Divine Summons and Its Purpose The passage opens with a direct divine commission: Moses is to "go in to Pharaoh" — a phrase that recurs like a liturgical refrain across the plague narrative, underscoring that each encounter is not a political negotiation but a theophanic event. Yahweh identifies Himself as "the God of the Hebrews," a designation that carries covenantal weight, distinguishing Israel's God from the pantheon of Egypt. The stated purpose — "let my people go, that they may serve me" — is crucial. The Hebrew abad means both "to serve" and "to worship," making freedom and liturgical service inseparable. Liberation is not merely from something (slavery) but for something (the worship of God). This telos of the Exodus — freedom ordered toward worship — is not incidental but foundational.
Exodus 9:2 — The Conditional Structure of Judgment The "if you refuse" construction reveals that divine judgment is not capricious but responsive. God does not act without prior warning, without mercy extended, without the opportunity for conversion. This moral grammar — warning, then judgment — runs throughout the plague cycle and reflects the Catholic understanding that God's punitive acts are always ordered toward repentance (cf. CCC 1472). Pharaoh is never blindsided; he is always summoned before he is struck.
Exodus 9:3 — "Yahweh's Hand" and the Specificity of the Plague The phrase "Yahweh's hand" (yad YHWH) is one of the Old Testament's most evocative anthropomorphisms for divine power in history. It is the same hand that will later write the Decalogue (Ex 31:18) and that Deuteronomy 26:8 will celebrate in the great creedal recitation. The enumeration of specific animals — horses, donkeys, camels, herds, flocks — is not mere literary detail. These animals represented Egypt's military power (horses), economic infrastructure (donkeys, camels), and food supply (herds and flocks). The blow strikes at the total fabric of Egyptian civilization. The word translated "pestilence" (deber) is the same term used in the prophets for God's judgments upon unfaithful nations (cf. Jer 21:6; Ez 14:19), giving the plague a prophetic resonance.
Exodus 9:4 — The Distinction: Covenant Separation Made Visible This verse is theologically pivotal. The Hebrew pala ("to make a distinction" or "to set apart, to make wonderful") is the same root used for God's miraculous deeds. The exemption of Israel's livestock is not coincidental good fortune; it is a sign (ot) — a visible, material demonstration of covenantal election. What is invisible — God's covenant bond with Abraham's descendants — becomes visible in the living animals grazing in Goshen while Egypt's fields are filled with carcasses. This enacted distinction anticipates the blood of the Passover lamb, which will again visibly separate the saved from the condemned.
Exodus 9:5 — The Appointed Time: Divine Providence and Precision The "set time" (mo'ed) appointed by God introduces a striking element of predictive precision. Unlike a general threat, God names the very next day. This is not fate operating mechanically but Providence acting freely and specifically, demonstrating that history is not random. The use of mo'ed is significant: it is the same word used for the sacred assembly times of Israel's liturgical calendar (Lev 23). Even in judgment, God moves according to a sacred order.
Exodus 9:6 — Fulfillment: History as Theology "Yahweh did that thing on the next day" — the narrative is almost flat in its simplicity, but that simplicity is the point. God's word and God's act are identical. There is no gap between promise and fulfillment. The LXX version of this verse influenced patristic readers who saw in this totality ("all the livestock of Egypt died") a pattern of how sin, when allowed to run its course, consumes entirely.
Exodus 9:7 — The Verification and the Hardened Heart Pharaoh personally investigates ("sent, and behold") and confirms the exemption of Israel's livestock. He sees the evidence. He cannot deny it. And he still does not relent. This is the theological crux. The hardening of Pharaoh's heart (wayye'kbad leb-par'oh — literally, "the heart of Pharaoh was heavy") is not the hardening of ignorance but of confirmed, witnessed, chosen resistance. The Catholic tradition, drawing on St. Augustine and St. Thomas Aquinas, insists that God does not harden the will by direct infusion of evil, but by withdrawing grace in response to prior free refusals — a judicial hardening that ratifies what Pharaoh has already freely chosen. The verse ends with the plague cycle's solemn refrain: "he didn't let the people go."
Catholic Commentary
Catholic tradition brings several distinctive lenses to this passage that deepen its meaning considerably.
On Divine Providence and History: The Catechism teaches that "God is the sovereign master of his plan" (CCC 314) and that nothing falls outside His providential order. The fifth plague exemplifies what the Church calls "God's governance" (gubernatio) — He does not merely react to events but directs them according to a wise and loving plan that human obstinacy cannot ultimately frustrate.
On the Hardening of Pharaoh's Heart: This is one of Scripture's great theological knots. St. Augustine (De Gratia et Libero Arbitrio, 23) and St. Thomas Aquinas (Summa Theologiae I-II, q.79, a.3) both insist that God hardens no one's will directly; rather, He withholds the softening grace that, in His justice, He no longer owes to one who has repeatedly rejected it. The hardening is simultaneously Pharaoh's own act and God's just judgment. This preserves both divine sovereignty and human freedom — a tension the Catholic tradition holds together rather than resolving in either direction.
On Typology — The Paschal Lamb: The Church Fathers, particularly Origen (Homilies on Exodus) and St. Maximus of Turin, read the distinction between Israel's living livestock and Egypt's dead animals as a prefiguration of the Passover. The blood that marks Israel as exempt is already present in seed form here: those sheltered under God's covenant live; those outside it perish. This typological reading is ratified by the Roman Rite's Easter Exsultet, which celebrates the Exodus plagues as integral to the story of salvation.
On Freedom for Worship: Pope St. John Paul II's Veritatis Splendor (§17–18) reflects on the Exodus liberation precisely in terms of the inseparability of freedom and God's law — freedom is given not for autonomy but for conformity to truth and worship. The fifth plague's demand — "let my people go, that they may serve me" — is a compressed theology of authentic human freedom.
For Today
The fifth plague confronts the contemporary Catholic with a question more personal than historical: where in my life does evidence of God's action accumulate without producing conversion? Pharaoh "sent and verified" — he conducted an investigation, confirmed the miracle, and still chose hardness. The danger is not unbelief from ignorance but from familiarity. Catholics who have received the sacraments, heard the Word proclaimed, witnessed answered prayer, and still find their hearts unmoved by God's call to deeper conversion are, in a real sense, standing in Pharaoh's shoes.
The passage also speaks to the Catholic social imagination. The fifth plague strikes not at individuals but at an economy — the horses, camels, herds, and flocks that sustained Egypt's power. When an entire civilization organizes itself around the exploitation of human beings (as Egypt organized itself around enslaved Israelite labor), God's judgment falls on the infrastructure of that civilization. Catholics engaged in social justice, labor rights, or poverty advocacy can hear in this plague a prophetic word: systems that deny human dignity do not stand forever.
Finally, the "set time" (mo'ed) invites trust in God's timing. When injustice seems permanent, when Pharaoh seems immovable, God acts — precisely, punctually, and completely.
Cross-References