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Asenath Ate Paradise Honey Before Jacob Blessed Her

She threw her idols from the tower window. On the eighth morning a man like Joseph put honeycomb from Paradise on her tongue.

Curated by Arthur · Told by Maggid ·
Table of Contents
  1. She Threw the Gods Out the Window
  2. Honeycomb in a Locked Room
  3. Joseph Did Not Know Her Face
  4. Jacob Put His Hands on Her Head
  5. Uzza Asked for Egypt Anyway

Joseph would not kiss her. He had come to Potiphera's house in Pharaoh's second chariot, and Asenath had watched from the window and wanted him the way a person wants a door that has already closed. He looked at her mouth, which had blessed dead gods, and refused a strange woman who worshipped idols.

Asenath Ate Paradise Honey Before Jacob Blessed Her Click for full size

The refusal sent her up the tower alone.

She Threw the Gods Out the Window

She tore off the royal robe, the gold dress, the ornaments, the bracelets, the shoes. She dragged out the idols she had fed with bread and wine, broke them, and threw the pieces from the window. She put on sackcloth. She scattered ashes on her head.

Seven days and seven nights she sat on the floor, eating nothing, drinking nothing, weeping without a stop. Her seven attendants were kept outside. The gods of Egypt had never answered. If Joseph's God was real, she wanted that God, and she did not know the words.

Joseph had already blessed her once, out of pity, asking God to pour spirit over her and give her a share among His people. She was trying to spend that blessing before it cooled.

Honeycomb in a Locked Room

On the eighth morning the light in the room changed. A man stood there who looked like Joseph, only brighter than the sun. He told her to rise, wash her face, put on a white robe, and come back. She was called. Her name was written in the book of the living. This day she had been born anew, to eat the bread of life, drink the cup of immortality, and be anointed with the oil that does not spoil.

She washed. She changed. She came back. He told her to sit. He called for honeycomb. It appeared though the door was locked, white as snow, smelling of life. He said the bees of Paradise had made it from the dew of the roses in Eden. Angels eat it. Whoever eats it will not die.

He broke a piece, ate some himself, and put the rest in her mouth.

"From this day thy body shall bloom like the flowers in Paradise," he said. "Thy bones shall wax fat like the cedars. Thy youth shall not fade. Thy name shall be City of Refuge, whither the nations shall flee."

He blessed her seven attendants as seven pillars in that city. Then he left in a chariot of fire drawn by four fire horses. She knew then she had not been feeding a man.

Joseph Did Not Know Her Face

A visit from Joseph was announced before the air in the room had settled. She washed her face and saw it in the water: a beauty that had not been there the week before. She ran to meet him.

He did not recognize her. He asked who she was.

"I am thy maid-servant Asenath," she said. "I have cast away my idols. This day a visitant came from heaven. He gave me the bread of life and the cup, and he said he was going to you to speak for me. Tell me whether the man was with you."

Joseph took her face in his hands and kissed her. She wept against him. The woman he had refused at the door was gone.

Jacob Put His Hands on Her Head

On the twenty-first day of the second month, in the second of the famine years, Jacob came down to Egypt. Asenath went to him. She stared at his shoulders, which were like an angel's, and at the strength in him, like a giant's. He blessed her. He put his hands on her head and called her daughter, and asked God to keep her and multiply her.

She already had Manasseh and Ephraim in her. The sons of Leah walked her home. The sons of the handmaids kept back, remembering what they had done to Joseph. Levi stayed close. His eyes were open. He read the books written by the finger of God, and he told her he had seen her resting-place in heaven, built on a rock, walled in diamond.

The woman who had thrown her gods from a tower window now stood inside Abraham's grandson's hands.

Uzza Asked for Egypt Anyway

Egypt did not get the same mercy. When the sea closed on Pharaoh's army, Uzza, the guardian of that nation, stood beyond the firmament and asked God to judge the Egyptians by mercy, not by what they had earned. Heaven had already shouted that drowning was just. Uzza still asked for pity on the work of God's hands.

Almost God yielded. Then Michael signed to Gabriel. Gabriel flew to Egypt and brought back a brick. A Hebrew child had been used as the mortar in it. He held it up.

"Wilt Thou have compassion on the nation that slaughtered Thy children this way?"

God turned from mercy, sat on the throne of justice, and let the sea keep them.

Asenath had left that land by honeycomb and a new name. Uzza could not take the land with him. Later, in the wilderness, Israel named Dathan and Abiram and tried to walk back to Egypt, and even to set up an idol for the road. Joshua and Caleb tore their clothes. Moses brought them a message from God not to fear the Canaanites. They answered that they would have doubted strangers, but these spies were family, and they moved to seize Moses and Aaron. The cloud covered the two of them. The door Asenath had shut, they wanted open. It did not open.

Levi had already seen her house in heaven. Years before she arrived, Gabriel had stood in Pharaoh's court and poured seventy languages into Joseph's mouth so a Hebrew could rule Egypt. Angels spoke a blessing over that gift, the line the Great Assembly would one day set among the Eighteen Benedictions: Blessed art Thou, who graciously bestowest knowledge. She had eaten her way into a house heaven had already been blessing out loud.


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The texts behind this telling. Some cards carry a translation of the source; others are our own retelling of it, and each card says which. Every card links out to the original.

Legends of the Jews 1:474Legends of the Jews

Retold in our words. Read the original at the link below.The Legends of the Jews by Louis Ginzberg (1909) · Public Domain

Legends of the Jews turns to Asenath and the Heavenly Realms.

Asenath, a woman of stature and privilege, is deeply affected by the words of Joseph. So much so, that she’s moved to tears. Out of compassion, Joseph offers a blessing, imploring God to pour His spirit upon her, welcoming her into His people and granting her a share in eternal life. A powerful scene. According to Ginzberg's retelling in Legends of the Jews, Joseph's appearance and words had a profound impact. As soon as Asenath returned to her chambers, she cast aside her finery – the robes of state, the jewels – and replaced them with sackcloth. She covered her head in ashes, a symbol of mourning and repentance, and for seven days and nights, she prayed for forgiveness, completely isolating herself. level of dedication. Seven days and nights of intense introspection and seeking divine grace. It speaks volumes about the sincerity of her transformation.

Then, on the morning of the eighth day, something extraordinary happens. An angel appears to her! The angel tells her to put aside her mourning clothes and adorn herself in her finest garments because she has been born anew. He says she is now ready to partake in the blessed bread of life, drink from the cup of immortality, and anoint herself with the oil of eternal life.

Asenath, ever the gracious hostess, prepares to offer food and drink to her angelic guest. But then she sees it: a honeycomb of extraordinary beauty and fragrance. Where did it come from?

The angel reveals that this is no ordinary honeycomb. It was made by the bees of Paradise, food fit for angels and the chosen ones of God. He takes a small portion, and then, remarkably, he places the rest into Asenath's mouth. "From this day forth," he proclaims, "thy body shall bloom like the eternal flowers in Paradise, thy bones shall wax fat like the cedars thereof, strength inexhaustible shall be thine, thy youth shall never fade, and thy beauty never perish, and thou shalt be like unto a metropolis surrounded by a wall." What a powerful blessing!

And Asenath, in her newfound compassion, remembers her attendants. She asks the angel to bless them as well. He grants her request, saying, "May the Lord bless you and make you to be seven pillars in the City of Refuge."

This story, found in Legends of the Jews, is more than just a fantastical tale. It's a story of transformation, of the power of words and compassion, and of the potential for renewal that exists within each of us.

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Legends of the Jews 1:476Legends of the Jews

Retold in our words. Read the original at the link below.The Legends of the Jews by Louis Ginzberg (1909) · Public Domain

The story of Asenath, found in Legends of the Jews, gives us a glimpse into just such an experience.

An angel has just visited Asenath. Not just any visit,. As Ginzberg retells it in Legends of the Jews, the angel departs in a blaze of glory – a chariot of fire pulled by four fiery steeds, soaring back into the heavens. Can you picture the awe, the sheer wonder Asenath must have felt? She knew then, without a doubt, that she had been in the presence of something…otherworldly.

The story doesn't end there. Almost as soon as the celestial messenger vanishes, Joseph arrives. Asenath, eager to greet him, rushes to prepare herself. And As she washes her face, she sees her reflection and is astonished. The angel's visit has changed her, imbued her with a beauty she had never possessed before.

When Joseph arrives, he doesn't even recognize her! “Who are you?” he asks. Imagine the surprise, the confusion, perhaps even a little fear in his voice.

Asenath replies, "I am your maid-servant Asenath!" She explains that she has renounced her idols. She tells him of the heavenly visitor who offered her the "bread of life" and the "blessed cup." (We can’t help but think of parallels to late antique traditions here, can we?) More importantly, she reveals the angel's pronouncement: "I give thee unto Joseph as his affianced wife, that he may be thy affianced husband forever."

And then, a new name, a new destiny: "Thy name shall not any more be called Asenath, but thy name shall be City of Refuge, whither the nations shall flee for safety." Quite a change, wouldn't you say?

Finally, Asenath adds, "I go to Joseph, to tell him all these things that have reference to thee.' Now, my lord, thou knowest whether the man was with thee and spoke to thee in my behalf." She is essentially asking Joseph, did this angel visit you too? Did he confirm this divine plan?

This moment is so rich with meaning. It speaks to the transformative power of faith, the possibility of divine intervention, and the potential for even the most unexpected individuals to find a place in a sacred narrative. It’s a reminder that sometimes, the most profound changes come when we least expect them, leaving us almost unrecognizable to those who thought they knew us best. And it leaves us wondering, what "city of refuge" might we each be called to become?

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Legends of the Jews 1:479Legends of the Jews

Retold in our words. Read the original at the link below.The Legends of the Jews by Louis Ginzberg (1909) · Public Domain

It's the twenty-first day of the second month, in the second year of a devastating seven-year famine. Jacob, weary but resolute, makes his way down to Egypt. Famine had gripped the land of Canaan, forcing him and his sons to seek refuge and sustenance in the land ruled by his long-lost son, Joseph, now a powerful viceroy.

Among those who came to greet Jacob was his daughter-in-law, Asenath. Now, Asenath, was no ordinary woman. She was an Egyptian, the daughter of Potiphera, a priest of On. And as she gazed upon Jacob, a sense of awe washed over her. According to Legends of the Jews, she marvelled at his beauty and strength. His shoulders, Quite the imposing figure, wouldn't you say?

Touched by her reverence, Jacob bestowed his blessing upon her. After this encounter, Asenath returned home with her husband, accompanied by Leah's sons. But here's a detail worth noting: the sons of the handmaids, remembering their past transgressions against Joseph, kept their distance. Old wounds, it seems, run deep.

Here's where the story takes an intriguing turn. Levi, one of Jacob's sons, had developed a particular fondness for Asenath. Levi was a special soul, a prophet and a sage, a man deeply connected to the Living God. His "eyes were open," and he possessed the ability to read the celestial books – books written, no less, by the very finger of God!

What secrets did those celestial books hold? Well, Levi, in his wisdom, revealed something extraordinary to Asenath. He had seen her future resting-place in heaven. And what did he see? A place built upon a rock, surrounded by a diamond wall. A vision of eternal security and brilliance. image for a moment: a heavenly home, solid as a rock, radiant as a diamond. What does it tell us about the value placed on Asenath's soul? What does it suggest about the power of divine foresight, as described in texts like Legends of the Jews?

This brief encounter, this glimpse into Asenath's future, leaves us pondering. How do seemingly chance meetings shape our lives? And what hidden blessings might await us, revealed only to those with eyes to see?

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Legends of the Jews 1:43Legends of the Jews

Retold in our words. Read the original at the link below.The Legends of the Jews by Louis Ginzberg (1909) · Public Domain

"Thou hast every right to drown him in the sea!" they cried out. But remember, this is after generations of enslavement and suffering inflicted upon the Israelites.

Then we have Uzza. Now, Uzza isn’t a name that jumps out from the Torah narratives, but here he plays a fascinating role. Hearing the verdict, Uzza, with what must have been incredible courage, pleaded with God. "O Lord of all the worlds!" he exclaimed. "I know that my people deserve the punishment Thou has decreed, but may it please Thee to deal with them according to Thy attribute of mercy, and take pity upon the work of Thy hands, for Thy tender mercies are over all Thy works!" Imagine the scene. An angel, arguing for mercy, for compassion, even when justice seemed to demand retribution.

It’s a powerful moment, and the story tells us that God was almost swayed. Almost ready to temper justice with mercy. But then…

Then Michael steps in. He signals to Gabriel, who is given a grim task. A task that will irrevocably change the course of events. Gabriel flies to Egypt, and this is where it gets truly chilling. He retrieves a brick. Just a single brick. But not just any brick. This brick, according to the legend, had been made using a Hebrew child as mortar.

Gabriel returns, holding this damning piece of evidence, and confronts God. "O Lord of the world! Wilt Thou have compassion with the accursed nation that has slaughtered Thy children so cruelly?"

The effect is immediate. God, confronted with this tangible evidence of unimaginable cruelty, turns away from His attribute of mercy. He ascends His throne of justice, and the decision is made: the Egyptians will be drowned in the sea.

It’s a stark reminder that even in the face of divine compassion, the weight of human actions can tip the scales. The brick becomes a symbol – a symbol of the suffering, the brutality, and the ultimate consequence of injustice.

This story, found within the interplay of Legends of the Jews, leaves us with a profound question. How do we balance justice and mercy? How do we ensure that the horrors of the past are not forgotten, while still striving for a future where compassion prevails? It's a question that echoes through the ages, and one that continues to challenge us today.

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Legends of the Jews 4:110Legends of the Jews

Retold in our words. Read the original at the link below.The Legends of the Jews by Louis Ginzberg (1909) · Public Domain

Legends of the Jews turns to Israel Tries to Replace Moses and Return to Egypt.

The people, as Ginzberg recounts, weren't just sad. They were furious. The dream of the Promised Land, the culmination of generations of slavery and wandering, seemed to be slipping away. So, what did they do? They decided to replace Moses and Aaron with new leaders – Dathan and Abiram – with the explicit goal of heading back to Egypt.

It gets worse. It wasn't just a leadership change they were after. It was a complete rejection of everything they stood for. They renounced God! They wanted to create an idol, a tangible, visible deity to replace the unseen force that had led them thus far. As Ginzberg tells it, drawing upon earlier sources, this wasn’t just the “mixed multitude” (the non-Israelites who had joined them in their Exodus) complaining; even those who had been pious were now saying, "Would to God that we had died in the land of Egypt! Or would to God we had died in this wilderness!"

Think about the desperation in that statement. The utter hopelessness.

In the face of this despair, Joshua and Caleb, the two spies who had brought back a positive report, tore their clothes in mourning. They tried to reason with the people, to remind them that the time was near when God would fulfill his promise to Abraham, to give the land of Canaan to his descendants. They even claimed that God had removed the guardian angel of the Canaanites, making them vulnerable!

But the people weren't having it. "We do not believe you," they retorted. "The other spies have our weal and woe more at heart than you." Ouch.

Even Moses himself, the man who had led them out of slavery, couldn't sway them. He delivered a direct message from God, urging them not to fear the Canaanites. He reminded them of all the miracles they had witnessed in Egypt and the wilderness. "He who wrought all those miracles for you in Egypt and during your stay in the wilderness will work miracles for you as well when you will enter the promised land. Truly the past ought to inspire you with trust in the future."

But their response? A stinging rebuke: "Had we heard this report of the land from strangers, we should not have given it credit, but we have heard it from men whose sons are our sons, and whose daughters are our daughters." In other words, they trusted the negative report because it came from people they knew. It was a brutal rejection of Moses' authority and, more importantly, of God's promise.

In their rage, they even threatened Moses and Aaron. According to Legends of the Jews, God intervened, sending a cloud of glory – the Shekhinah (שְׁכִינָה), the divine presence – to protect them. But instead of being awed into repentance, the people hurled stones at the cloud! As Ginzberg makes clear, drawing upon earlier sources like Midrash Rabbah, this act of defiance pushed God's patience to its absolute limit. God decided that the spies would be destroyed, and the people would face severe punishment for their lack of faith.

What does this story tell us? It's a stark reminder of how easily fear and doubt can overwhelm faith, even after witnessing incredible miracles. It's a cautionary tale about the dangers of listening to the loudest voices of negativity and the importance of trusting in the promises that have been made to us, even when the path ahead seems daunting. It makes you wonder: when have we been like the Israelites in this story, so blinded by fear that we turned away from the very thing we longed for?

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Legends of the Jews 11:46Legends of the Jews

Retold in our words. Read the original at the link below.The Legends of the Jews by Louis Ginzberg (1909) · Public Domain

It turns out, some pretty incredible stories lie behind even the most familiar phrases.

It's a central part of Jewish prayer services, recited daily. But where did it come from?

The tradition says the Great Assembly, a council of sages and prophets in the early Second Temple period, formalized the prayer. But the individual blessings? Those, The Legends of the Jews, as retold by Ginzberg, paints a vivid picture of their origins, attributing them to moments of divine revelation and angelic pronouncements.

It’s important to remember that the number of blessings was later increased to nineteen, but the original core of eighteen is what we’re focusing on here. So, buckle up, because this is where it gets really interesting.

Imagine Abraham, saved from the fiery furnace. As he emerges, victorious and blessed, the angels themselves proclaim, "Blessed art Thou, O Lord, the Shield of Abraham." This becomes the essence of the first blessing, evidence of God's protection.

Then there's Isaac, lying terrified on Mount Moriah, after the Binding of Isaac. God sends dew to revive him, a symbol of renewal and life. And the angels sing out, "Blessed art Thou, O Lord, who quickenest the dead," which inspires the second blessing, a recognition of God's power over life and death.

Think of Jacob, arriving at the gates of heaven, proclaiming God's holiness. The angels echo his sentiment: "Blessed art Thou, O Lord, Thou holy God." This echoes in the third blessing, a declaration of God's supreme holiness.

And what about Joseph? When Pharaoh is about to appoint him ruler of Egypt, a potential problem arises: Joseph might not know all seventy languages required of an Egyptian sovereign! So, the angel Gabriel steps in, teaching him the tongues. The angels then proclaim, "Blessed art Thou, O Lord, who graciously bestowest knowledge." This becomes the fourth blessing, celebrating God's gift of wisdom.

We see this pattern repeated again and again. Reuben's repentance inspires the blessing for repentance, Judah's forgiveness inspires the blessing for pardon. The Exodus from Egypt inspires the blessing for redemption, and so on. Each blessing is linked to a specific moment in our people's history, a moment where divine intervention and human experience intertwined.

When the Israelites sowed in the land of the Philistines and reaped abundant harvests, the angels sang, "Blessed art Thou, O Lord, who blessest the years." When Jacob was reunited with Joseph and Simon in Egypt, the angels proclaimed, "Blessed art Thou, O Lord, who gatherest the dispersed of Thy people Israel."

According to Midrash Rabbah, the very revelation of the Torah to Moses inspired the blessing for righteousness and justice: "Blessed art Thou, O Lord, who lovest righteousness and justice." The drowning of the Egyptians in the Red Sea prompted the angels to declare, "Blessed art Thou, O Lord, who shatterest the enemy and humiliatest the presumptuous."

Even the small, intimate moments are included: When Joseph laid his hands on the eyes of his father Jacob, a gesture of love and respect, the angels spoke: "Blessed art Thou, O Lord, who are the stay and the support of the pious."

And of course, monumental events like the building of the Temple by Solomon: "Blessed art Thou, O Lord, who buildest Jerusalem." The children of Israel singing hymns of praise as they passed through the Red Sea led to the blessing, "Blessed art Thou, O Lord, who causest the hour of salvation to sprout forth."

Even God's attention to the suffering Israelites in Egypt found expression in the angelic pronouncement, "Blessed art Thou, O Lord, who hearest our prayer." The descent of the Shekinah (שְׁכִינָה), the Divine Presence, between the Cherubim in the Tabernacle inspired the blessing for the restoration of the Divine Presence: "Blessed art Thou, O Lord, who wilt restore Thy Divine Presence to Jerusalem."

Finally, when Israel entered the Holy Land, the angels declared, "Blessed art Thou, O Lord, who establishest peace."

What does this all mean? Well, it suggests that the Eighteen Benedictions aren't just a collection of words. They're a weaving from the threads of our history, our triumphs, and our struggles. They are echoes of divine moments, amplified by the voices of angels. When we recite them, we're not just saying prayers; we're connecting with a legacy that stretches back to the very foundations of our faith.

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