The Fifth Plague: When God Targets What Egypt Worships

What’s Really at Stake?

What do you worship that you think you can’t live without? What would devastate you if it were suddenly taken away? Your financial security? Your professional reputation? Your health? Your family? Your comfort?

These aren’t merely rhetorical questions designed to make you feel uncomfortable. They’re the exact questions Exodus 9 forces Egypt—and us—to confront. Because when God begins to systematically dismantle everything a nation has built its confidence upon, the fragility of false worship becomes painfully obvious.

You see, the fifth plague isn’t primarily about dead livestock. It’s about exposed gods. It’s about the moment when what you’ve trusted reveals itself as utterly powerless to protect you. And it’s about discovering that the only security worth having is covenant relationship with the one true God.

This morning we’re beginning a three-week journey through Exodus 9, which contains three plagues: the livestock disease (verses 1-7), the boils (verses 8-12), and the devastating hail and fire (verses 13-35). Each plague escalates in severity. Each one exposes another layer of Egypt’s false confidence. And each one demonstrates God’s faithfulness to protect His covenant people.

Today we focus on verses 1-7—the fifth plague. And what we’re going to discover is that God’s judgment always accomplishes multiple purposes simultaneously. He’s not just punishing Egypt. He’s exposing the powerlessness of false gods, demonstrating His own sovereignty, and protecting His people through covenant grace.

Exodus 9:1-7 reads:

Then the LORD said to Moses, “Go in to Pharaoh and say to him, ‘Thus says the LORD, the God of the Hebrews, “Let my people go, that they may serve me. For if you refuse to let them go and still hold them, behold, the hand of the LORD will fall with a very severe plague upon your livestock that are in the field, the horses, the donkeys, the camels, the herds, and the flocks. But the LORD will make a distinction between the livestock of Israel and the livestock of Egypt, so that nothing of all that belongs to the people of Israel shall die.”‘” And the LORD set a time, saying, “Tomorrow the LORD will do this thing in the land.” And the next day the LORD did this thing. All the livestock of the Egyptians died, but not one of the livestock of the people of Israel died. And Pharaoh sent, and behold, not one of the livestock of Israel was dead. But the heart of Pharaoh was hardened, and he did not let the people go.

Let’s learn how to study this passage carefully by observing what’s actually here, asking good questions, and letting Scripture interpret Scripture.

The Divine Commission: God’s Pattern of Warning

The first thing I want you to notice is the pattern. Look at verse 1: “Then the LORD said to Moses, ‘Go in to Pharaoh…'” This is the fourth time God has sent Moses to Pharaoh with essentially the same message. The structure is becoming predictable: divine commission, execution of judgment, Pharaoh’s response, and consequences.

Why does this matter? Because it demonstrates that God’s judgments aren’t capricious or arbitrary. He doesn’t wake up one morning and decide to devastate Egypt on a whim. He warns. He explains. He gives opportunity after opportunity for repentance. Even in wrath, God remembers mercy.

Now watch carefully how God identifies Himself in verse 1: “Thus says the LORD, the God of the Hebrews.” In Hebrew, that’s Yahweh ‘elohe ha-‘Ivrim. This isn’t just a title—it’s a theological claim. God is asserting His covenant relationship with Israel while simultaneously challenging Egypt’s entire pantheon. You see, Egypt worshiped eighty-some deities. They had gods for everything—the Nile, the sun, fertility, wisdom, the afterlife. But Yahweh is presenting Himself as the God who has entered into covenant with a specific people. He’s not one god among many. He’s the God who acts in history to fulfill His promises.

And what’s His demand? “Let my people go, that they may serve me.” Notice the purpose clause—that they may serve me. Israel’s liberation isn’t ultimately about political freedom or economic opportunity. It’s about worship. God is liberating them FROM the service of Pharaoh TO the service of Yahweh. This is crucial because it reframes the entire conflict: this isn’t merely a political dispute between Moses and Pharaoh; it’s a cosmic confrontation between the true God and false gods, between legitimate worship and idolatry.

Now look at verse 3. God gives a specific warning: “If you refuse to let them go and still hold them, behold, the hand of the LORD will fall with a very severe plague upon your livestock.” Two things jump out here.

First, the warning is conditional. If you refuse… then judgment comes. God is giving Pharaoh a choice. This isn’t fatalism. This isn’t “you’re doomed no matter what.” It’s “here’s the consequence if you continue in rebellion.” That’s grace operating even within judgment.

Second, notice the Hebrew phrase translated “very severe plague.” The word is deber—and this is where careful word study becomes essential. Most English translations render it as “plague” or “pestilence,” which makes it sound like a medical diagnosis. But deber appears fewer than 60 times in the Old Testament, and in all but about five instances, it refers to plagues sent by Yahweh. It’s not describing a naturally occurring disease. It’s identifying divine judgment as the cause.

This matters theologically. When we read “plague,” we might think, “Oh, there was an outbreak of anthrax or some livestock disease.” But the text is saying something far more significant: this is deber—divine judgment weaponized against Egypt. God isn’t merely allowing disease to happen; He’s deploying it as an instrument of His purposes. The livestock aren’t dying randomly; they’re dying because God has determined that Egypt’s economic and religious confidence must be exposed as worthless.

Now watch what happens in verse 4. This is where it gets theologically rich: “But the LORD will make a distinction between the livestock of Israel and the livestock of Egypt, so that nothing of all that belongs to the people of Israel shall die.”

The Hebrew word translated “make a distinction” is hiflah. Write that down: הִפְלָה. It carries the semantic range of both “setting apart” and “making a distinction.” This isn’t the first time we’ve seen this concept. Back in Exodus 8:22-23, during the plague of flies, God said, “But on that day I will set apart the land of Goshen, where my people dwell, so that no swarms of flies shall be there, that you may know that I am the LORD in the midst of the earth. Thus I will put a division between my people and your people.”

You see the progression? In Exodus 8, the distinction was territorial—God protected the land of Goshen. But now in Exodus 9, the distinction shifts. It’s no longer about geography; it’s about property. It’s not “the land where Israelites live is protected.” It’s “the animals that belong to Israelites are protected—wherever they are.”

This is what I call progressive narrowing. God is demonstrating that His distinction-making power extends to increasingly specific details:

• Exodus 8: Territorial distinction (land of Goshen protected from flies)
• Exodus 9: Property distinction (Israelite livestock protected from disease)
• Exodus 12: People distinction (Israelite firstborn protected from death)

The pattern moves from geographical boundaries to individual possessions to personal lives. God’s protection isn’t generic—it’s specific, intentional, and covenant-based. And here’s the theological bombshell: this protection isn’t based on Israel’s righteousness. Their history reveals them as rebellious and sinful. Yet they’re protected. Why? Because of God’s covenant faithfulness and grace. The distinction demonstrates how a holy God can dwell with sinful people—not because they deserve it, but because He has chosen them in grace.

Let me show you how to trace this theme through Scripture. When you find a significant theological concept like hiflah (distinction), you want to see where else it appears. If you search your concordance or Bible software, you’ll discover this same language reappears in Exodus 33:16, where Moses prays: “For how shall it be known that I have found favor in your sight, I and your people? Is it not in your going with us, so that we are distinct, I and your people, from every other people on the face of the earth?”

You see? The distinction isn’t just about protection during the plagues. It’s about God’s presence differentiating His people in the world. This becomes the foundation for understanding covenant identity throughout Scripture—from Israel in Exodus to the church in the New Testament. God’s people are marked not by inherent righteousness but by divine protection flowing from grace-based election.

So what does this mean for us? It means that when we study Scripture carefully—observing the actual words, researching their usage, tracing themes—we discover theological depth that transforms how we understand God’s character and His relationship with His people. God’s warnings are gracious. His distinctions are intentional. His protection is covenant-based, not merit-based.

The Plague Strikes: Economic and Religious Warfare

Now watch what happens in verses 5-6. God doesn’t just warn—He acts: “And the LORD set a time, saying, ‘Tomorrow the LORD will do this thing in the land.’ And the next day the LORD did this thing. All the livestock of the Egyptians died, but not one of the livestock of the people of Israel died.”

Notice three things about how the text presents this.

First, God sets a specific time: “Tomorrow.” This isn’t vague. This isn’t “sometime in the future when you least expect it.” It’s “tomorrow—be ready.” The specificity accomplishes something important: it removes any doubt about the source. When the livestock start dying exactly when God said they would, there’s no natural explanation. This is clearly divine intervention.

Second, the text emphasizes divine agency three times in two verses: “the LORD will do this thing… the LORD did this thing… All the livestock of the Egyptians died.” The repetition hammers home the point: this is Yahweh’s doing. Not chance. Not natural disaster. Not an unfortunate outbreak of disease. This is God demonstrating His power over creation and over Egypt’s gods.

Third, notice the comprehensive scope: “All the livestock of the Egyptians died.” In Hebrew, kol miqneh Mitsrayim—every single one of Egypt’s animals. This is total devastation. Horses, donkeys, camels, cattle, flocks—everything. Gone.

Now here’s where cultural and religious context becomes essential. To understand the full impact of this plague, you need to know what livestock represented in ancient Egyptian society. And this is where good study method requires you to go beyond the biblical text to understand its historical and religious background.

Egypt’s economy was fundamentally agricultural and pastoral. Livestock weren’t just commodities—they were the foundation of economic prosperity. Cattle provided food, milk, leather, and labor. They were wealth incarnate. Donkeys and camels provided transportation and trade capability. Losing all livestock meant economic collapse. The nation’s ability to produce food, conduct commerce, and maintain military capability was suddenly gutted.

But here’s what makes this plague devastating on another level entirely: many of these animals were sacred to Egyptian religion. The Egyptians worshiped bovine deities—gods and goddesses associated with cattle. Let me give you three major examples:

Apis was a bull-god associated with Ptah, embodying vitality and fertility. Apis was one of the most important deities in Memphis, the capital. The Apis bull was a living god—Egyptians would select an actual bull with specific markings and worship it as the incarnation of divinity.

Mnevis was another bull-god, associated with Ra, the sun god. Like Apis, Mnevis was worshiped through a living bull.

Hathor was a cow-headed goddess—one of the most significant deities in the entire Egyptian pantheon. She was associated with motherhood, love, joy, music, and the sky itself. Hathor’s cult was widespread and powerful.

Now imagine what the fifth plague does. All the cattle die. All of them. Including—presumably—the sacred Apis bulls and Mnevis bulls and the cattle associated with Hathor worship. The gods who were supposed to govern life, fertility, and prosperity couldn’t protect their own sacred animals. The deities Egypt trusted to maintain cosmic order and provide blessing were exposed as utterly powerless.

This is divine warfare. God isn’t just inflicting economic damage. He’s systematically dismantling Egypt’s religious confidence. He’s fulfilling what He later declares explicitly in Exodus 12:12: “For I will pass through the land of Egypt that night, and I will strike all the firstborn in the land of Egypt, both man and beast; and on all the gods of Egypt I will execute judgments: I am the LORD.”

You see, polytheism operates on the assumption that different gods control different domains. You worship Hathor for fertility, Apis for vitality, Hapi for the Nile, Ra for the sun, Osiris for the afterlife. Each god has jurisdiction over their sphere. But the plagues systematically demonstrate that Yahweh has absolute authority over every sphere. He controls the Nile (plague 1). He controls creatures (plagues 2-4). He controls livestock and the domains Egyptian gods claimed (plague 5). He controls human bodies (plague 6). He controls weather and celestial phenomena (plague 7). He controls even life and death itself (plagues 9-10).

The theological logic is inescapable: there is only one God, and these so-called deities are either nonexistent or demonic powers subordinate to Yahweh’s authority. Psalm 115:3-8 captures this perfectly:

Our God is in the heavens; he does all that he pleases. Their idols are silver and gold, the work of human hands. They have mouths, but do not speak; eyes, but do not see. They have ears, but do not hear; noses, but do not smell. They have hands, but do not feel; feet, but do not walk; and they do not make a sound in their throat. Those who make them become like them; so do all who trust in them.

The fifth plague is God’s enacted commentary on the futility of idolatry. Egypt’s gods have mouths but cannot speak to help their people. They have hands but cannot act to protect their sacred animals. They are powerless—and now that powerlessness is undeniable.

Here’s the methodological principle I want you to take away: when you study a biblical passage, you can’t fully understand it without researching the historical and cultural context. If you just read “God killed Egypt’s livestock,” you miss half the story. But when you discover that livestock were economically vital and religiously sacred, suddenly the plague’s full impact becomes clear. This is how good Bible study works—you observe carefully what the text says, you ask good questions about context, and you research until you understand the original audience’s perspective.

So what does this mean for us? It means that what we value reveals what we worship. Egypt valued livestock economically and religiously—so God struck exactly there to expose their misplaced trust. What are you trusting in for security, meaning, or happiness? Your career success? Your financial portfolio? Your relationships? Your health? Your reputation? These aren’t necessarily bad things—but if their removal would devastate you spiritually, you’ve made them functional gods. And God, in His grace, sometimes has to expose our false worship so we’ll return to Him alone.

The Distinction Made Real: Covenant Protection

Now look at the end of verse 6: “But not one of the livestock of the people of Israel died.” And then verse 7: “And Pharaoh sent, and behold, not one of the livestock of Israel was dead.”

The text emphasizes this twice. Why? Because the distinction isn’t theoretical—it’s verifiable. Pharaoh could send investigators to Goshen. They could count. They could inspect. And what they would discover is that the promise God made in verse 4—”nothing of all that belongs to the people of Israel shall die”—was literally, exactly fulfilled. Not 90% survived. Not “most” survived. Not one died. Zero. None. Perfect protection.

This is what I call God’s precision. When He makes a distinction, it’s not ambiguous. It’s not approximate. It’s absolute. The boundary between judgment and protection is as clear as the boundary between Egyptian territory and Israelite territory.

Let me show you how this theme develops. We’ve already seen that Exodus 8 introduces territorial distinction—Goshen is protected from flies. Now Exodus 9 shows property distinction—Israelite animals are protected. But this pattern continues. In Exodus 12, during the tenth plague, the distinction will become personal: “Not a dog shall growl against any of the people of Israel, either man or beast, that you may know that the LORD makes a distinction between Egypt and Israel” (Exodus 11:7).

You see the progression? The distinction moves inward:

• Exodus 8: Geographical boundaries (land of Goshen)
• Exodus 9: Individual possessions (Israelite livestock)
• Exodus 12: Personal lives (Israelite firstborn)

Each step demonstrates that God’s covenant protection isn’t generic or vague. It’s specific. It’s intentional. It’s powerful enough to create a boundary that disease, destruction, and death cannot cross.

Now here’s the theological question we have to ask: why are the Israelites protected? What have they done to deserve this? And the answer—if you’ve been paying attention to Exodus—is nothing. Israel’s history, even in Exodus, reveals them as rebellious, grumbling, and quick to doubt God. They’re not protected because they’re righteous. They’re protected because God has entered into covenant with them. They’re protected because of grace.

This is the heart of the distinction theology. God sets His people apart not because they’re better but because He’s chosen them in sovereign grace. Election—God’s choosing—is always grounded in His character, not human merit. He loves because He is love. He’s faithful because He is faithful. He protects because He has promised.

And listen carefully: this same principle operates in the New Testament. If you’re in Christ—if you’ve trusted in His finished work on the cross—you’re protected not because of your performance but because of God’s covenant faithfulness. You’re in Christ, and nothing can separate you from the love of God. The same God who made a distinction between Egypt and Israel has made a distinction between those in Adam and those in Christ. It’s covenant grace all the way down.

But now look at verse 7: “But the heart of Pharaoh was hardened, and he did not let the people go.”

Pharaoh sent investigators. They confirmed the distinction. Not one Israelite animal died. The evidence is undeniable. Pharaoh has just witnessed a miracle that defies natural explanation, demonstrates divine power over Egypt’s gods, and confirms that Yahweh keeps His promises perfectly.

And what does he do? He hardens his heart.

This is our first introduction to a pattern that will intensify throughout Exodus 9. Pharaoh hardens his own heart through the first five plagues. Then, beginning in Exodus 9:12 (next week’s passage), God will begin to harden Pharaoh’s heart judicially. But here, the text is clear: Pharaoh chose to harden his heart despite overwhelming evidence.

Why? Because acknowledging Yahweh’s authority would require submitting to Yahweh’s demands. And Pharaoh values his autonomy more than truth. He’d rather rule in rebellion than submit in faith. Sound familiar? That’s the pattern of every human heart apart from grace. We’d rather be our own god—even if it means denying reality—than bow before the true God.

Here’s the methodological principle: when you study a biblical character’s response to God’s revelation, you’re studying human nature. Pharaoh’s hardening isn’t unique—it’s universal. We all resist evidence that would require us to change. We all suppress truth that threatens our autonomy. Romans 1:18 says, “For the wrath of God is revealed from heaven against all ungodliness and unrighteousness of men, who by their unrighteousness suppress the truth.” That’s Pharaoh. That’s Egypt. That’s every human heart that refuses to submit to God’s lordship.

But here’s the hope: God’s distinction still holds. Even when we were hardening our hearts, even when we were suppressing truth, God in His grace set His love upon us, elected us in Christ before the foundation of the world, and protects us not by our merit but by covenant faithfulness.

Living Under Divine Protection

So what have we learned this morning by carefully observing Exodus 9:1-7?

We’ve seen God’s pattern of gracious warning before judgment. He doesn’t strike without notice. He explains. He gives opportunity. Even in wrath, He remembers mercy.

We’ve seen God’s judgment accomplish multiple purposes simultaneously. The fifth plague wasn’t just economic devastation—it was religious warfare exposing false gods as powerless. What Egypt valued economically and worshiped religiously was shown to be utterly incapable of providing security.

We’ve seen God’s covenant distinction become verifiable reality. The protection promised in verse 4 was perfectly fulfilled in verse 6. Not one Israelite animal died. God’s distinction-making power is specific, intentional, and absolute—and it’s grounded in grace, not human merit.

And we’ve seen the tragic reality of human hardening in the face of overwhelming evidence. Pharaoh had all the proof he needed. He chose rebellion anyway. Because that’s what the human heart does—apart from God’s grace, we’d all rather rule in autonomy than submit in faith.

So here’s the application. First, take God’s warnings seriously. When He reveals sin in your life, when His Word confronts your patterns of thinking or behaving, don’t harden your heart. Respond in repentance. God’s warnings are grace—they’re opportunities to turn before judgment becomes inevitable.

Second, examine what you worship functionally. Egypt trusted in livestock economically and religiously—so God struck precisely there. What would devastate you if it were removed? What are you trusting in for security, meaning, or identity? If it’s anything other than God Himself, it’s a false god—and at some point, God in His grace may expose it as powerless in order to turn your heart back to Him alone.

Third, rest in covenant protection. If you’re in Christ, you’re protected not by your performance but by God’s faithfulness. The same God who made a distinction between Egyptian livestock and Israelite livestock has made a distinction between those who are in Adam and those who are in Christ. You’re secure—not because you’re worthy, but because He’s faithful.

Next week, we’ll see the sixth plague—when God escalates His judgment to target human bodies for the first time. The Egyptian magicians will be personally afflicted, unable to stand before Moses. And we’ll witness the theological threshold where Pharaoh’s self-hardening transitions to divine hardening. The stakes intensify. The pattern continues. And God’s purposes march steadily forward toward the ultimate deliverance at the Red Sea.

But for today, rest in this: the God who made a distinction for Israel makes a distinction for you. You’re protected not because you deserve it but because He has chosen you in grace. That’s covenant faithfulness. That’s the gospel. That’s the God we worship.