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Asmodeus Killed Seven Grooms Before Tobiah Arrived

Sarah of Ecbatana had seven husbands. Asmodeus killed all seven before any marriage was consummated. Then God arranged a match the demon could not stop.

Curated by Arthur · Told by Maggid ·
Table of Contents
  1. Seven Wedding Nights, Seven Mornings
  2. Sarah's Prayer in the Upper Chamber
  3. Asmodeus, King of the Demons
  4. The Match the Demon Could Not Stop

Seven Wedding Nights, Seven Mornings

Seven times her father had given her in marriage. Seven times the husband had died before the marriage was a marriage in any real sense. Seven wedding nights. Seven mornings with a body to explain. Sarah, daughter of Reuel of Ecbatana in Media, had not killed any of them. She was a prisoner. The demon Asmodeus, king of the demons, had claimed her for himself and was killing every man who came near her.

The maidservants knew this, and they used it against her. They said to her face: it is not right to call you Sarah, which means princess, but Zarah, which means trouble. You have been given to seven husbands and not one of them lasted the night. Why do you kill your husbands? It would be better for your father if you died and spared them all this shame.

Sarah's Prayer in the Upper Chamber

She went up to her father's upper room and wept for three days. She considered hanging herself. Then she thought of her father, who had no other child, and she would not put that grief on him. She prayed instead. She told God that she was pure and had not defiled herself. She named the accusations of the maidservants. She said: either take me away, or have regard for me and pity me and let me hear reproach no more.

This is the prayer of a woman who has been made responsible for deaths she did not cause. Seven men had died in her wedding chamber and the world held her accountable for all seven. She had done nothing. She was an only child in her father's house in Media, faithful in her prayers and her conduct, and a demon was destroying every man who came near her because the demon wanted her for itself.

Asmodeus, King of the Demons

Asmodeus is one of the most consistently described figures in the whole body of ancient Jewish demonology. He appears across multiple sources with the same character: obsessive, possessive, violent toward anyone who interferes with what he has decided to claim. His name appears to derive from the Avestan aeshma daeva, the Zoroastrian demon of wrath, which makes him one of the points where Jewish and Persian religious imagination met during the exile period and produced something new.

In the Tobit tradition he is not merely a demon of wrath but a demon of disordered love, the dark side of desire, the force that destroys the thing it claims to want. He killed seven men who had legitimate claim to Sarah. He could not possess her himself. He could only prevent anyone else from doing so. Seven deaths and he had nothing to show for them except seven graves and a woman he had not touched and could not reach, who was now praying in her father's upper room and asking God to either help her or kill her.

The Match the Demon Could Not Stop

At the same moment, in Nineveh, Tobit's son Tobias was preparing to travel to Media to collect a debt. The angel Raphael had arrived in disguise, calling himself Azariah. He knew the route. He knew about a fish in the Tigris whose heart and liver, when burned, produced a smoke that drove away demons. He knew about Sarah daughter of Reuel, and he told Tobias to marry her, and he told Tobias that the demon Asmodeus would flee when he smelled the smoke of the fish.

Tobias married Sarah. On the wedding night he burned the fish's heart and liver in the incense pan. The smell filled the room. Asmodeus fled to Egypt. Raphael pursued him there and bound him. By the time Reuel rose in the morning and went to dig the eighth grave he had prepared, the grave was empty. His daughter was alive. Her husband was alive. The demon was gone.


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From the tradition

Sources

3 sources

The texts this telling draws on, in full. Open a card to read inline, or expand it for a wider, quieter read.

Book of Tobit 3:2Book of Tobit

Being a young woman, full of hope and dreams, ready to build a life with someone you love. Now Sarah, the daughter of Reuel, living in Agbatanis (Ecbatana) in Media, faced a horrifying reality: each of her seven husbands died on their wedding night, before their marriage could ever be consummated.

Can you imagine the whispers, the stares, the judgments? It’s no wonder her own father’s maidservants mocked her relentlessly. They cruelly renamed her "Zarah" meaning "trouble." "It is not meet to call thee Sarah, but Zarah," they taunted, a constant reminder of her perceived curse. The Book of Tobit 3:8 says, "It would be good for thy parents that thou shouldest die for them, and that they see not of thee either son or daughter for ever." Harsh words.

What was causing this horrific string of deaths? It wasn’t just bad luck. A demon named Asmodeus, the king of demons, was responsible. He was killing each husband before they could consummate the marriage. But why? The Book of Tobit doesn't tell us in this chapter, but we know that there's something supernatural at play here.

Think about the weight of that accusation. Sarah wasn't just grieving the loss of seven husbands; she was also being blamed for their deaths. "Why dost thou kill thine husbands, and beat us because of this evil matter?" one of the maids asks. Accusations of being cursed, of bringing misfortune upon everyone around her, would be crushing.

Sarah's story is a stark reminder of the power of societal pressure and the cruelty that can arise from fear and misunderstanding. It’s easy to judge and condemn when we don’t understand the full picture.

And while Sarah’s situation seems extreme, doesn't it resonate with the everyday challenges we all face? How often do we jump to conclusions about others based on limited information? How often do we blame the victim instead of seeking to understand the root cause of their suffering?

Sarah's story isn't just a tale from an ancient text. It's a mirror reflecting our own capacity for both compassion and cruelty. And as we'll see, it's also a story of resilience, faith, and the hope for redemption, even in the darkest of times.

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Legends of the Jews 5:132Legends of the Jews

Solomon needed help, immense supernatural help, and he knew just where to find it.

The task of capturing Asmodeus fell to Benaiah, son of Jehoiada, Solomon’s most trusted and valiant servant. This wasn't your average "go get the milk" errand. Benaiah was equipped with some rather unusual tools: a chain engraved with the Shem HaMephorash, the explicit Name of God; a ring bearing the same sacred inscription; a bundle of wool; and a skin full of wine. An odd shopping list. Benaiah found Asmodeus’s usual watering hole – a well. Cleverly, he bored a hole from below to drain the water, plugged it with the wool, and then filled the well with wine. Imagine Asmodeus's surprise when he came down from heaven, expecting a refreshing drink of water, only to find… Cabernet Sauvignon?

At first, Asmodeus hesitated. According to Ginzberg’s retelling in Legends of the Jews, he even quoted Bible verses railing against the evils of wine, trying to bolster his resolve. But thirst, as they say, is a powerful thing. He succumbed, drank deeply, and fell into a stupor.

That's when Benaiah sprang into action. Hiding in a tree, he watched until Asmodeus was completely out, then leaped down and chained the demon's neck. When Asmodeus woke and tried to break free, Benaiah simply invoked the power of the Name: "The Name of thy Lord is upon thee!" And just like that, the mighty Asmodeus was subdued.

But the journey back to Solomon was anything but smooth. Asmodeus, though captive, still possessed immense power. He brushed against a palm tree, and it was uprooted. He bumped into a house, and it crumbled. When a poor woman pleaded with Benaiah to steer the demon away from her hut, Asmodeus begrudgingly obeyed but broke one of her bones in the process. "Is it not written," he quipped, with a grim sort of humor, "'A soft tongue breaketh the bone?'" (Proverbs 25:15).

The Zohar paints a vivid picture of demons having a complex, almost paradoxical nature. We see glimpses of this complexity in Asmodeus's actions. He guided a blind man back onto the right path and showed similar kindness to a drunkard. Yet, he wept when he saw a wedding procession pass by and laughed at a man ordering shoes to last seven years and at a magician performing tricks. What are we to make of these strange reactions?

The Talmud (Gittin 68a-b) expands on this, detailing Asmodeus's eventual assistance in building the Temple, revealing secrets of construction known only to demons.

Perhaps his tears at the wedding stemmed from an understanding of the fleeting nature of happiness, or maybe envy at the joy he could never experience. His laughter at the shoemaker and the magician? Perhaps he saw the futility in their long-term plans and shallow deceptions, knowing the grand cosmic scheme in ways humans couldn't.

Asmodeus's story, as we find it in Midrash Rabbah, isn’t just about capturing a demon. It's about the complexities of good and evil, the blurry lines between wisdom and foolishness, and the surprising places where we might find help, even from those we least expect. It also reminds us that even the mightiest can be brought low by simple human desires… like a really good glass of wine.

What do you think? Does this story suggest that even demons have a role to play in the divine plan, or is it simply a cautionary tale about the dangers of unchecked power?

Full source
Book of Tobit 12:4Book of Tobit

The Book of Tobit, a beautiful story nestled within the Apocrypha, gives us just that kind of moment. It's a story filled with faith, healing, and a hidden angel in disguise.

We arrive at chapter 12. Tobit, who's been blind, has had his sight miraculously restored. His son, Tobiyyah, has returned safely from a long journey, and with a new wife, Sarah. And the faithful companion who guided Tobiyyah, a man named Azarias, is about to reveal his true identity.

Suddenly, Azarias speaks, and the air crackles with revelation: "Peace be unto you; fear not; bless the Lord for these great and wonderful things which he hath done unto you." It’s a moment of profound gratitude, a recognition of the divine hand in their lives. But then comes the kicker.

"Now as to myself," Azarias continues, "all the time I was with you ye saw me eat and drink, for so it appeared to your eyes, yet I did neither eat nor drink."

Can you imagine the shock? The man who shared their meals, their journey, their very lives, was not who they thought he was. He was an angel, a messenger of God. He only appeared to eat and drink. What a thought!

He then gives them a command, a task that echoes through time to us: "Now therefore write you all these things in a book, and it shall be for a witness between you and your God all the days of your lives, and this thing shall be for a sign and a witness amongst all generations." This isn't just a story for them, or even just for their time. It's a story meant to be shared, a evidence of God's unwavering presence and intervention in our lives.

"And bless the Lord, and praise the remembrance of his holiness," he urges. The angel, now revealed as Raphael, yes, that Raphael, is about to depart. His mission is complete.

"And now let me go, and I will go to the God who sent me to you." With those words, they send him away, their hearts overflowing with gratitude. "So they sent him away, and blessed the Lord for all this. And the angel of the Lord went up to heaven, and appeared no more to Tobi and his son Tobiyyah."

Just like that, he's gone. Vanished into the heavens, leaving behind a family forever changed by his presence.

What does this brief passage, this incredible moment, leave us with? It's a reminder that sometimes, just sometimes, the divine walks among us in disguise. It encourages us to look closer, to be grateful for the help we receive, and to remember that even in our darkest moments, we might be closer to the miraculous than we think.

And perhaps most importantly, it's a call to share our stories, to write them down, to pass them on, so that future generations can also witness the enduring power of faith and the unwavering love of God. Because who knows? Maybe, just maybe, an angel walked with you today, too.

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