After Moshe finally relents to God’s request to travel to Egypt and confront Pharaoh, the Torah introduces a mysterious and startling episode that seems almost disconnected from the narrative:
“At a night encampment on the way, God encountered him and sought to kill him.” (Exodus 4:24): וַיְהִי בַדֶּרֶךְ בַּמָּלוֹן וַיִּפְגְּשֵׁהוּ ה׳ וַיְבַקֵּשׁ הֲמִיתוֹ
“So Zipporah took a flint and cut off her son’s foreskin, and touched his legs with it, saying, ‘You are truly a bridegroom of blood to me!’” (Exodus 4:25): וַתִּקַּח צִפֹּרָה צֹר וַתִּכְרֹת אֶת־עָרְלַת בְּנָהּ וַתַּגַּע לְרַגְלָיו וַתֹּאמֶר כִּי חֲתַן־דָּמִים אַתָּה לִי
“And when [God] let him alone, she added, ‘A bridegroom of blood because of the circumcision.’” (Exodus 4:26): וַיִּרֶף מִמֶּנּוּ אָז אָמְרָה חֲתַן דָּמִים לַמּוּלֹת
This bizarre and abrupt episode interrupts the flow of the story and then disappears without further explanation. What is happening here? Why would God seek to kill Moshe—the very person He just appointed as leader and redeemer of Israel?
Most commentators explain that Moshe had delayed circumcising his son, Eliezer, likely because of the dangerous journey to Egypt. According to the Midrash, an angel appeared in the form of a serpent and began swallowing Moshe, stopping only at the area of circumcision. This dramatic imagery underscores the urgency of the mitzvah. Because Moshe was incapacitated, Tziporah heroically performed the circumcision herself.
Another Midrashic version suggests that it was Eliezer who was nearly swallowed, not Moshe. The ambiguity of the pronouns in the text—“him” and “his”—leaves room for interpretation. In this version, Moshe had gone ahead to meet Aharon, leaving Tziporah and Eliezer behind. This fits with later verses where Tziporah reunites with Moshe in the wilderness, implying a temporary separation. If so, Tziporah’s sharp words—“חֲתַן דָּמִים” (bridegroom of blood)—may express her frustration at being left alone to deal with this life-threatening situation.
But why does this happen now? The answer may lie in the preceding verses, which frame the mission in stark terms:
“Then you shall say to Pharaoh, ‘Thus says God: Israel is My first-born son. I have said to you, “Let My son go, that he may worship Me,” yet you refuse to let him go. Now I will slay your first-born son.’” (Exodus 4:22–23): וְאָמַרְתָּ אֶל־פַּרְעֹה כֹּה אָמַר ה׳ בְּנִי בְכֹרִי יִשְׂרָאֵל׃ וָאֹמַר אֵלֶיךָ שַׁלַּח אֶת־בְּנִי וְיַעַבְדֵנִי וַתְּמָאֵן לְשַׁלְּחוֹ הִנֵּה אָנֹכִי הֹרֵג אֶת־בִּנְךָ בְּכֹרֶךָ
Notice the parallel: God warns Pharaoh that if he refuses to release His “first-born son” (Israel), He will kill Pharaoh’s first-born. Moshe, by delaying his son’s circumcision—the covenantal sign of belonging to God—has failed to affirm his own family’s allegiance to that covenant. The threat to Moshe’s son mirrors the threat to Pharaoh’s son. It is a chilling reminder that leadership begins at home.
Tziporah’s decisive act and her bitter words—“חֲתַן דָּמִים לַמּוּלֹת” (a bridegroom of blood because of the circumcision)—signal both her loyalty to the covenant and her reproach of Moshe’s hesitation. In a sense, this episode dramatizes the cost of spiritual leadership: before Moshe can represent God’s people, his own household must embody the covenant.
