David Curwin
The story of the banishment of Hagar and Ishmael (Genesis 21) and the story of the discovery and adoption of Moses (Exodus 2) appear at first glance to have little in common. The expulsion of Hagar and Ishmael unfolds within the confines of a small family, and after this episode, Ishmael does not play a major role in the biblical narrative. In contrast, the adoption of Moses sets the stage for the eventual redemption of Israel from slavery in Egypt, which serves as the foundation of the Torah and the entirety of Jewish history. However, a closer look at the verses in each story reveals many parallels, suggesting deliberate and significant lessons.
Comparison of Verses
To illuminate the parallels between the two stories, I will present a comparison of key verses from each chapter. Due to the differing structures of these narratives, the corresponding verses do not always align in sequence. Therefore, I will organize the comparisons following the sequence found in the Exodus story.
Genesis 21:11 The matter was exceedingly bad in Abraham’s eyes because of his son.
Exodus 2:2 The woman conceived and bore a son. She saw that he was good, and she hid him for three months.
In both stories, each parent saw their son as “good” (or “bad” to harm), but circumstances beyond their control forced them to abandon their child
Genesis 21:15 When the water in the skin was finished, she cast the child under one of the bushes.
Exodus 2:3 When she could not hide him longer, she got a wicker basket for him and caulked it with bitumen and pitch. She put the child into it and placed it among the reeds by the bank of the Nile.
Both Jochebed and Hagar arrived at a point where they could no longer care for their child. Although they derive from different Hebrew roots, the phrases “was finished” (וַיִּכְלוּ) and “could [not]” (יָכְלָה) appear to be homonymic.
Ibn Ezra on Exodus 2:3 writes that the motivation of both mothers was the same: “Jochebed did this ‘for she said: Let me not see the death of the child’ [quoting Hagar in Genesis 21:16].” Neither could bear to see their child suffer.
Both mothers placed their child in vegetation (a bush and reeds) to protect them. In this case, the parallels are in essence a mirror: Ishmael was at risk from not having enough water, and Moses was placed in the ark to protect him from an abundance of water.
Genesis 21:16-17 And she went and sat down at a distance, a bowshot away; for she said, “Let me not see the death of the child.” And she sat opposite him and lifted up her voice and wept. God heard the cry of the lad…
Exodus 2:4 And his sister stationed herself at a distance, to know what would happen to him.
Both Hagar and Miriam distanced themselves from the child. Hagar distanced herself to avoid seeing what would happen. She got as far away as she needed to be. Miriam also distanced herself, but for the opposite reason. She only went as far away as necessary to continue to watch. This raises the question of Jochebed’s location. Presumably, she was further away, like Hagar.
After the mothers of the children had distanced themselves, there was someone else paying attention to the vulnerable child: God noticed Ishmael, and Miriam observed Moses.
Genesis 21:9 Sarah saw the son of Hagar the Egyptian, whom she had born to Abraham, laughing.
Exodus 2:5 The daughter of Pharaoh came down to bathe in the Nile, while her maidens walked along the Nile. She saw the basket among the reeds…
Sarah, in her anger, saw the son of Hagar, not even acknowledging his name Ishmael. She demanded that he and Hagar be cast out. In contrast, the daughter of Pharaoh, despite her father’s anger at the Hebrews, saw a helpless baby and rescued him.
Genesis 21:10 She said to Abraham: Expel this slave-woman and her son…Genesis 21:13 …And he sent her away. She went off and roamed in the wilderness of Beer-sheba.
Exodus 2:5 … and she sent her slave-woman, and she took it.
Both stories have a slave-woman being sent. Sarah demands that Abraham expel (גרש) Hagar, but in the end, Abraham uses the milder שלח―send out. But even with this less aggressive verb, Hagar and Ishmael get lost in the wilderness.
Pharaoh’s daughter also sent her slave-woman, but in this story, it was to rescue the child, not to abandon him. In this, she parallels the angel who rescued Ishmael.
Genesis 21:19 Then God opened her eyes and she saw a well of water…
Exodus 2:6 She opened it and saw the child…
Both rescues include opening[1] and seeing.
Genesis 21:17 …for God has heard the cry of the lad there where he is.
Exodus 2:6 …and behold a lad was crying. She took pity on it, and she said, “This is one of the children of the Hebrews.”
In both verses, the crying children are referred to as na’ar—“lad.”[2] At this point in their respective stories, neither boy is named. They are simply called “son,” “child,” or “lad.” Although Ishmael is named earlier in Genesis (16:11), he is not referred to by his name here. Similarly, Moses receives his name later in the narrative (Exodus 2:10), remaining nameless at the beginning.
The lack of names emphasizes that their identities are secondary to their immediate need for compassion. These crying children are judged based on their current plight, not their future roles. As Rashi comments on Genesis 21:17,[3] “He is to be judged according to his present deeds, not by what he may do in the future.”
Despite the current tensions between Egyptians and Hebrews in the Exodus narrative, or the future conflicts between the descendants of Isaac and Ishmael foreshadowed in Genesis, the narrative focuses on the immediate, vulnerable state of the children. At this moment, they must be saved.
Genesis 21:17 …an angel of God called to Hagar from heaven…
Exodus 2:8 …So the girl went and called the child’s mother.
Both mothers are called. God sends His angel to call Hagar, while Pharaoh’s daughter sends Miriam to call Jochebed. Both mothers now know that their child is safe and then reunite with them.
In summary, we have identified many parallels between the two stories. The differences between them also act as a mirror, further highlighting their connections. Perhaps the most significant mirror regards the issue of parentage: Ishmael’s biological mother is Hagar, the Egyptian, and his surrogate mother is Sarah, the Hebrew. In contrast, Jochebed, the Hebrew, is the biological mother of Moses, and Pharaoh’s daughter, the Egyptian, is his adoptive mother.
This final parallel suggests that the culture or nation from which they come is not important. Both Ishmael and Moses are rejected by figures of authority in the nations of their birth. Ishmael is rejected by Sarah, the matriarch of Abraham’s Hebrew household. Moses is rejected by Pharaoh, the king of the Egyptians.
These stories, therefore, are not about the inherent nature of either nation. They do not convey a simple message of Hebrews being good and Egyptians being bad. The narratives are too complex for such simplistic dichotomies. The lesson taught is that all people are responsible for their actions, regardless of their national background.
Passive Versus Active?
I am not the first to notice some of the linguistic parallels between these stories. Scholars such as R. Amnon Bazak, R. Yisrael Meir Lau, and R. Meir Nehorai have discussed them previously. A common theme in their analyses is the claim that Hagar was passive in her story, whereas Miriam was active in the Moses narrative. They point out that in Genesis, it was the adult Hagar who was crying,[4] whereas in Exodus, the baby Moses was the one crying. They assert that Moses’s family wasn’t crying because they had not despaired.
However, while Miriam is certainly more active than Hagar, she isn’t the mother—Jochebed is. According to Ibn Ezra’s interpretation, Jochebed acted with motivations similar to Hagar and was therefore also passive. A well-known Talmudic passage depicts Miriam arguing that her father’s decision to divorce Jochebed was harsher than Pharaoh’s decree, as it would prevent all children from being born. Moved by her words, Amram remarries Jochebed, and other Israelites follow his example.[5] This midrash underscores how the Sages recognized that Miriam was more active than her parents. Referring to “the family of Moses” blurs this important distinction.
Pharaoh’s daughter could have also remained passive, not recognizing or rescuing the baby. But just as Moses later recognized the unusual state of the burning bush, she paid attention to her surroundings. Like God and the angel who rescued Ishmael, she took action to save the baby in the basket.
R. Bazak notes that in the Genesis story, Hagar and Ishmael needed miraculous intervention, while in the Exodus story, the rescue is performed by humans. For him, this signifies the active stance of Moses’s family. However, the parallels we have seen above indicate that both Miriam and Pharaoh’s daughter are analogous to God and the angel in the Genesis story. Their actions reflect their divine nature. Even when seemingly distant, Miriam, like God, is much closer than she might appear.
Freedom Is Given
One lesson from comparing these two stories is to avoid despair and resignation, as Hagar and Jochebed did, and instead to remain active and persevere, like Miriam.
However, there is another lesson. In recent years, there has been much discussion about the lack of human free will. For example, Robert Sapolsky, in his recent book Determined: A Science of Life Without Free Will, argues that we are entirely a product of our biology and environment, leaving no room for free will. As he writes, “[W]e are nothing more or less than the cumulative biological and environmental luck, over which we had no control, that has brought us to any moment.”[6]
Following this approach, one might assume that an Egyptian, especially the daughter of the cruel Pharaoh, would be “destined” to share her father’s disdain for the helpless and certainly would not show compassion for a Hebrew enemy. At a minimum, she would remain passive and accept this as the way of the world.
Yet, the parallels between Miriam and Pharaoh’s daughter and the rescuers of Ishmael demonstrate that we are not merely advanced animals with additional intelligence; we possess an element of the divine.
A number of years before the publication of Determined, Sapolsky was interviewed on an episode of the radio program and podcast This American Life.[7] He presented many of the arguments that would later appear in his book. The interviewer also spoke with Harvard professor Melissa Franklin, who agreed with Sapolsky, acknowledging that “there’s no evidence that we have free will.” Curiously, she cited a conversation with colleagues on the topic. One colleague suggested that “there could be some complex thing that comes in that actually gives us free will.” Another responded, “You’re talking about magic or God. Just say it out loud―magic or God.” Franklin could not accept those options and maintained that humans are machines, lacking free will.
The debate over whether or not humans have free will is not new to Judaism. Rabbi Akiva in Pirkei Avot 3:15 declared that “Everything is foreseen, yet freedom of choice is granted.” Maimonides made free will a central component of his philosophy.[8]
Support for this approach goes back much further. It is essentially the philosophical bedrock of the Torah itself. The Torah demands justice, and justice only has validity if those called to pursue it have free will. True, animals do not have free will. No one litigates against a wolf for assaulting a sheep. But humans were created in the image of God. That divinity makes them unique from other creatures and expresses itself in free will. Judaism proudly says out loud, “We’re talking about God” (magic is not part of the equation).
Acting in a divine manner, Miriam and Pharaoh’s daughter exercised their free will. Despite all the reasons—biology, self-preservation, culture, environment—that might have led them to do otherwise, they chose to save the baby.
Particularly surprising were the choices of Pharaoh’s daughter. Her actions set into motion the process that ultimately led to the liberation of the Hebrews. This was possible because she had the courage to see the baby for what he was at that moment—deserving of compassion—not merely as the condemned child of a slave. That choice changed everything.
This demonstrates that even nations are not destined to bear unchanging attitudes. While Egypt treated Israel cruelly, there was a time when they were kinder, and there is an obligation to recall that kindness: “You shall not abhor an Egyptian, for you were a stranger in his land” (Deuteronomy 23:8). This instills hope that despite their behavior in the present, nations can choose to act better once again in the future.
[1] In the Genesis story the verb is פקח; in the Exodus story, it is פתח. Both mean “to open.”
[2] This is surprising, since Moses was an infant, and na’ar generally refers to an older child. Perhaps this is related to the verb נער also meaning “to bray, roar” (see Jeremiah 51:38) and is therefore associated with him crying out.
[3] Quoting Rosh Hashanah 16b.
[4] In Genesis 21:16, Hagar is crying, using the verb בכה. In 21:17, God hears the cry of the boy, but it is described using the noun kol, literally “voice.”
[6] Robert Sapolsky, Determined: A Science of Life Without Free Will (Penguin, 2023), 4.
[7] David Kestenbaum, host, This American Life, podcast, episode 662, “Where There Is a Will,” act II, “Life Is a Coin with One Side,” WBEZ Chicago, November 16, 2018, https://www.thisamericanlife.org/662/where-there-is-a-will.
[8] Mishneh Torah, Hilkhot Teshuvah 5; The Guide for the Perplexed 3:17; Shemonah Perakim 8.
Site Operations and Technology by The Berman Consulting Group.