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Solomon's Throne Roared at Liars and Daniel Faced Real Lions

A golden lion put out its paw with a law cut into it, and Solomon could not reach the second step until he read it. In Babylon the lions were alive.

Curated by Arthur · Told by Maggid ·
Table of Contents
  1. The Lion That Would Not Let Him Climb
  2. The Machine He Sat In
  3. The Noise It Made in Court
  4. The Court in Babylon Had No Lions in It
  5. Thrones Were Set and the Books Were Opened
Solomon's Throne Roared at Liars and Daniel Faced Real Lions Click for full size

The Lion That Would Not Let Him Climb

Six flights of steps ran up to the seat, and on every step stood two lions of gold, one at the right hand and one at the left, and they did not hold still.

When Solomon put his foot on the first step the lion on the right stretched out its paw, and there was writing cut into it, and he could not put his foot on the second step until he had read the writing. It said: you shall not respect persons in judgment. He turned to the left and the other lion had its paw out too. It said: you shall not accept any bribe.

That was the arrangement all the way up. Another paw, another clause of the law of judgment, and no way past it.

The Machine He Sat In

The steps were set with stones and pearls, red and white and green. Trees and palms were fixed along both sides, and in their branches nested eagles and peacocks and birds of every kind. On the top step two great pillars of ivory rose off the heads of the lions, and beside them stood two hollow vines of gold that breathed out perfume whenever the king came up.

The seat itself was ivory laid over with the gold of Ophir. To one side stood a golden chair for Gad the seer, to the other a golden chair for Nathan the prophet, and around the whole thing seventy more golden seats stood in a ring for the seventy of the Sanhedrin. In front of it a golden lamp burned, carved down one side with the seven fathers of the world, Adam and Noah and Shem and Abraham and Isaac and Jacob and Job, and down the other with seven pious men, Kehath and Amram and Moses and Aaron and Eldad and Medad and Hur, and topped with the figure of a priest kindling the light.

On the steps the animals stood in pairs, each facing its opposite. The ox faced the lion. The goat faced the wolf. The bear faced the hart. The eagle faced the dove. The hawk faced the turtledove. Solomon walked up between them, and he never climbed a single step himself. The lion put out its paw on his right and the eagle put out its talon on his left, he leaned on the two of them, and the pair on each step handed him to the pair above.

At the top the whole thing came alive. Birds started up together, peacocks shrieking over them, and the trees let go their scent. A serpent of gold came around him, set him down on the seat, and crawled away under his feet. The eagles came off the vines, fanned perfume at him with their wings, and lowered the crown onto his head. Then every beast and every bird said the same words at once. Long may the kingdom of the house of David be established.

Last of all a golden dove brought a scroll of the law and laid it across his knees.

The Noise It Made in Court

When people came to him for judgment the wheels of the throne turned under him. The oxen lowed. The lions roared. The bears howled and the lambs bleated and the eagles cried and the peacocks shrieked and the cocks crowed and the hawks screamed and every bird in the branches started up at once.

It was built to terrify. A plaintiff standing in that racket did not plead a case he knew was rotten, and a witness did not open his mouth to lie in it. The like of it was never made in any kingdom. Ahasuerus sat down in Solomon's place generations later, spent three years and every craftsman he could hire trying to have one built, and could not do it.

Israel had already complained to God about him. This wicked man is sitting where Solomon sat. Do not let your throne of glory be made abominable.

Fire had come down on Solomon's house at its dedication. Twelve times fire fell out of heaven onto the earth, six as an honor, at the Tabernacle and over the offerings of Gideon and Manoah and David and Solomon and Elijah, and six to kill, on Nadab and Abihu, on the complainers in the camp, on the company of Korah, on Job's flocks, and on the men Ahaziah sent after Elijah.

The Court in Babylon Had No Lions in It

The men who wanted Daniel dead would have drilled up through the sky to reach the throne if they could. They could not go up, so they worked below.

The presidents of the kingdom and the governors and the princes and the counselors and the captains consulted together and had the king sign a statute, and they signed it under the law of the Medes and Persians, which cannot be revoked. That was the whole craft of it. Not a charge. A law that could not be taken back.

Daniel knew the writing was signed. He went into his house, opened the windows of his upper room toward Jerusalem, knelt down three times that day and prayed and gave thanks in front of his God exactly as he had before. The men assembled at his house and found him on his knees.

They took it to the king. He was sick about it and worked until sundown looking for a way out for Daniel, and there was none. His throne was a chair. It did not roar when a false case came into the room.

So they put Daniel in the pit. Let a lion come, God said, and rescue a lion from the mouth of a lion.

The lions down there talked to him. They told him the only reason he was still whole was that there were only seventy of them, and that if their number were increased they would be able to take him. Daniel told them to stay the night with him, and if they could overpower him in the morning they were welcome to eat him. In the morning the ones with broken bones at the bottom of that pit were the men who had drawn up the statute.

Thrones Were Set and the Books Were Opened

What Daniel saw at night he saw while the empire that convicted him was still standing.

Thrones were set in place, and the Ancient of Days took his seat. His clothing was white as snow and the hair of his head was like clean wool. His throne was tongues of flame and its wheels were burning fire. A river of fire ran out from in front of him. A thousand thousands served him and ten thousand times ten thousand stood before him. The court sat in judgment, and the books were opened.

Then one like a son of man came with the clouds of heaven, and they brought him near, and he was given dominion and glory and a kingdom, so that all peoples and nations and languages should serve him, a dominion that does not pass away and a kingdom that is not destroyed.

God had told David about it in advance, long before Daniel was born, because nothing is done up there without the secret going first to the prophets.

What comes out of an opened book is sentence, and the sentence had already been softened. A king swore to kill his son for angering him, and then stood there with the sword drawn, working out that a dead son leaves no heir and a sworn oath cannot be taken back. He put the sword in its sheath and passed it over his own head. He swore to throw the great stone at the boy, so he broke the stone into small pieces and threw them one at a time. He swore a hundred lashes, so he put the rope around his own neck.

Solomon needed a hundred gold animals shrieking on the stairs to keep men honest in front of him. In the court Daniel saw, nobody shouted at anyone. They just opened the books.


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From the tradition

Sources

5 sources

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.

Daniel 7:9-10, 7:13-14Writings (Ketuvim)

Translation of the source text.Miqra according to the Masorah · CC-BY-SA

I beheld until thrones were set in place, and the Ancient of Days sat. His garment was white as snow, and the hair of His head like pure wool. His throne was flames of fire, its wheels burning fire.

A river of fire streamed and went out from before Him. A thousand thousands ministered to Him, and ten thousand times ten thousand stood before Him. The court sat in judgment, and the books were opened.

I beheld in the visions of the night, and behold, with the clouds of heaven there came one like a son of man, and he came to the Ancient of Days, and they brought him near before Him.

And to him was given dominion and glory and kingship, and all peoples, nations, and tongues shall serve him. His dominion is an everlasting dominion that shall not pass away, and his kingdom one that shall not be destroyed.

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Chronicles of Jerahmeel LXXXIVChronicles of Jerahmeel (Gaster, 1899)

Retold in our words. Read the original at the link below.The Chronicles of Jerahmeel, trans. Moses Gaster (1899) · Public Domain

Solomon's throne was not a chair. It was a machine, a towering structure of ivory, gold, and living mechanisms that no king could ever replicate. According to the Chronicles of Jerahmeel, a 12th-century Hebrew chronicle preserved by Moses Gaster in 1899, Ahasuerus spent three years trying to have craftsmen build a copy. They failed completely.

The throne had six ascending pathways, each lined with steps. On every step stood two golden lions, one on the right and one on the left. These were not decorations. When Solomon placed his foot on the first step, the lion on the right stretched out its paw, revealing an inscription: "You shall not respect persons in judgment." The lion on the left bore another: "You shall not accept any bribe." At every step, Solomon was forced to read a commandment about justice before he could ascend further.

The steps were set with precious stones, red, white, and green. And flanked by golden palm trees where eagles, peacocks, and songbirds nested. On either side of the throne sat golden seats for Gad the seer and Nathan the prophet, surrounded by seventy golden chairs for the judges of the Sanhedrin (the supreme rabbinic court). A golden lamp stood before the throne, sculpted with the seven patriarchs on one side, Adam, Noah, Shem, Abraham, Isaac, Jacob, and Job. And seven righteous men on the other.

Clean and unclean animals faced each other on the steps: ox opposite lion, goat opposite wolf, eagle opposite dove. As Solomon ascended, each animal lifted him to the next level. At the top, birds burst into song, trees released perfume, and a golden serpent coiled around him, seating him on the throne. Eagles placed the crown on his head while every beast proclaimed: "Long may the kingdom of the house of David be established." When people came for judgment, the entire throne erupted, lions roaring, bears howling, eagles shrieking, to terrify anyone who might lie.

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Midrash Tehillim 64:1Midrash Tehillim

Retold in our words. Read the original at the link below.Rabbi Mike Feuer, Jerusalem Anthology · CC-BY

Our ancestors felt it too, and they wrestled with it in their stories and prayers. Midrash Tehillim 64, a fascinating passage that uses the story of Daniel in the lion's den to explore these themes of power, conspiracy, and ultimately, divine justice.

The midrash (rabbinic interpretive commentary) begins by quoting (Amos 3:7): "Surely the Lord God does nothing, without revealing his secret to his servants the prophets." This sets the stage: God is involved, God knows, and God reveals. The midrash then connects this idea to David, the conqueror, suggesting that God informed David of Daniel's fate. It's all interconnected.

The text then takes a surprising turn, imagining the wicked as those who would "drill through the firmament" if they could, echoing (Psalm 18:8): "Smoke went up from his nostrils, and devouring fire from his mouth; glowing coals flamed forth from him." Since they can’t reach God directly, they plot below, as (Psalm 2:2) says, "The kings of the earth set themselves, and the rulers take counsel together." Unable to challenge God on His own turf, they target those faithful to Him, like Daniel.

Here’s where the story of Daniel comes into sharper focus. Remember the plot against him? As we read in (Daniel 6:8-9), all the powerful figures – "the presidents of the kingdom, the governors, and the princes, the counselors, and the captains" – they all colluded, trying to trap him with a decree that would force him to choose between loyalty to the king and loyalty to God. They knew Daniel's unwavering devotion. They used it against him.

So, what did Daniel do? He knew the decree was signed, but as (Daniel 6:10-11) tells us, he went home, opened his windows toward Jerusalem, and prayed, just as he always had. He refused to hide his faith, even in the face of death. He trusted in God.

When they caught him, Daniel didn't panic. He prayed, acknowledging God as "Lord, the King of the Universe." He sought refuge from the "plot of evildoers." And when his enemies gleefully reported him to the king, as (Daniel 6:13-14) recounts, the king was "sore displeased with himself, and set his heart on Daniel to deliver him." But the law was the law, and the king was bound to uphold it.

Now, here's where the midrash gets really interesting. It invokes (Proverbs 30:30): "A lion, mightiest among beasts, recoils before none." The Holy One, blessed be He, said, "Let a lion come and rescue a lion from the mouth of a lion." The midrash sees Daniel as a 'lion' of faith, and God sends literal lions to rescue him! It’s a powerful image of divine intervention.

The story continues, elaborating on the miraculous nature of Daniel's survival. Seventy powerful men couldn't consume him, and when they plotted to increase their numbers, Daniel challenged them. The result? As (Psalms 7:13) says, "God shoots His arrows suddenly," and the wicked were devoured instead. It’s a complete reversal!

The midrash then explores the sheer number of lions involved, drawing from (Daniel 6:2) and imagining a vast, almost supernatural force protecting Daniel. It culminates in the triumph of justice, echoing (Psalms 58:11): "The righteous man will rejoice when he sees revenge; he will bathe his feet in the blood of the wicked." A stark image, perhaps, but one that emphasizes the complete and utter victory of good over evil.

The midrash concludes with (Psalms 64:11): "The righteous man will rejoice in the Lord and take refuge in Him, and all the upright in heart will exult." It's a powerful affirmation of faith, a reminder that even when faced with overwhelming odds, even when powerful forces conspire against us, we can find strength and solace in our relationship with God. Daniel's story isn't just a historical account; it’s a timeless message of hope and resilience.

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Midrash Tehillim 6:2Midrash Tehillim

Retold in our words. Read the original at the link below.Rabbi Mike Feuer, Jerusalem Anthology · CC-BY

Midrash Tehillim turns to Solomon and Daniel Plead for God's Mercy.

The Midrash (rabbinic interpretive commentary) asks, what’s so special about the eighth day? One answer it offers is, perhaps surprisingly, tied to the idea of the four kingdoms that have dominated Jewish history. But wait, four kingdoms and the eighth day? What gives? Well, the Midrash explains that each of these kingdoms is actually composed of two parts, creating a total of eight.

Drawing on the Book of Daniel (2:32-33), the Midrash identifies these kingdoms: Babylon & Chaldea, Media & Persia, Greece & Macedonia, and finally, Edom & Yishmael. Edom is often interpreted allegorically as Rome, the great empire that oppressed the Jewish people, while Yishmael represents the nations of the East. The idea is that these eight entities have, at different times, exerted power and influence over the Jewish people.

Rabbi Ibu suggests that the People of Israel call out to God, praising Him for delivering them from these eight kingdoms. He connects this to the prophecy in Isaiah (11:11) about God setting His hand a second time to reclaim the remnant of His people. This paints the eighth day of Passover as a symbol of hope, a reminder of eventual redemption from all those who seek to oppress them.

But the Midrash doesn't stop there. It explores a more personal and poignant plea. Rabbi Yudan, in the name of Rabbi Ami, shares a prayer from the Assembly of Israel: "Even though it is written about me, 'For whom the Lord loves He reproves, even as a father the son in whom he delights' (Proverbs 3:12), still, 'Do not discipline me in Your anger' (Psalm 38:2)." It’s a vulnerable moment, a plea for mercy even within discipline.

Rabbi Yochanan then offers a powerful parable. A king has two advisors known for their harshness. When a province rebels, he usually sends these advisors to quell the uprising. But when his own province rebels, the king considers sending them again. This time, the advisors beg him not to, offering to do anything else. In the same way, Israel asks God not to punish them in anger, even if they deserve discipline.

How can justice be served without anger? How can lessons be learned without consequences? The people ask God, "You have others to whom to send Your anger and wrath." Micah (5:14) is quoted: "I will execute vengeance in anger and wrath upon the nations." But regarding Israel, Hosea (11:9) promises, "I will not execute the fierceness of My anger." It’s a delicate balance between justice and mercy, between discipline and destruction.

Three more parables follow, each exploring this tension. Rabbi Elazar tells of a king who, in his anger, swore to kill his son. To avoid both breaking his oath and harming his son, he symbolically passed the sword over his own head. Rabbi Chanina tells of a king who swore to throw a large stone at his son. Instead, he broke it into small pieces, inflicting discomfort without causing fatal harm. Finally, the sages tell of a king who swore to strike his son with a hundred lashes, but instead, put the rope around his own neck.

Each parable offers a different perspective on how God can temper justice with mercy, finding ways to discipline without destroying. The king absorbs the punishment, deflects the blow, or lessens the impact. The message is clear: God's love for His people is unwavering, even in moments of anger and disappointment. He finds ways to express His displeasure without resorting to annihilation.

So, what does all this mean for us? Perhaps it's a reminder that even when we face hardship and feel the weight of the world on our shoulders, we are not alone. That even in moments of divine anger, there is a deep, abiding love that seeks to guide us, not destroy us. Maybe the eighth day of Passover isn’t just about remembering the past, but about looking forward to a future where justice and mercy intertwine, and where hope prevails over despair. It’s a potent reminder that even in our darkest moments, we are loved, cherished, and never truly abandoned. And isn't that a comforting thought?

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Legends of the Jews 4:54Legends 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

Fire that blazes with purpose, either as a sign of God's favor or His… well, let's just say, His displeasure. Fire is powerful, transformative. It can create and destroy. And in Jewish tradition, it's often a direct manifestation of the Divine.

In rabbinic tradition, God sent a Divine fire down to Earth not just once or twice, but a whopping twelve times! Ginzberg, in his monumental work, Legends of the Jews, breaks them down neatly: six times as a gift, a symbol of honor; and six times as, shall we say, a cosmic course correction.

Six times, fire descends as a kavod, an honor, a sign of divine acceptance. Remember the consecration of the Mishkan, the Tabernacle in the desert? Fire from Heaven consumed the offerings, a clear sign that God was present and pleased (Leviticus 9:24).

Then there’s Gideon, that reluctant hero. He offers a sacrifice, and bam! Fire leaps up and consumes it (Judges 6:21). The same thing happens with Manoah, the father of Samson (Judges 13:19-20). And David, too, experiences this Divine validation (1 (Chronicles 21:2)6).

And who could forget the dedication of Solomon's Temple? Talk about a spectacle! Fire rained down from the heavens, consuming the burnt offering and the sacrifices (2 Chronicles 7:1). A clear sign that God was dwelling amongst His people.

Finally, there's Elijah on Mount Carmel (1 (Kings 18:3)8). Facing off against the prophets of Baal, he calls upon God, and fire descends, consuming the offering, the wood, the stones, even the dust! Talk about a mic drop moment.

So, six times fire represents Divine favor. But what about the other side of the coin? The six times fire comes as a punishment? These are much darker tales.

First, there's the tragic story of Nadav and Abihu, the sons of Aaron. They offered "strange fire" before the Lord, and fire came forth and devoured them (Leviticus 10:1-2). A stark reminder that ritual and intention matter.

Then, there's the fire that broke out among the Israelites when they were grumbling and complaining in the desert (Numbers 11:1). A reminder that discontent can have fiery consequences.

And who can forget Korah and his rebellious crew? They challenged Moses' authority, and the earth swallowed them up, and then fire came and consumed the 250 men who offered incense (Numbers 16:35). Ouch.

Even Job, that paragon of righteousness, wasn't immune to fire's destructive power. In his trials, fire consumed his sheep and the servants tending them (Job 1:16). A reminder that even the righteous can suffer loss.

Finally, there are the two fires that consumed the first and second troops that Ahaziah sent against Elijah (2 (Kings 1:10-1)2). Elijah, in his righteous indignation, called down fire from heaven, twice! A evidence of the prophet's power and God's protection of His messengers.

So, twelve instances. Six of blessing, six of judgment. Fire, as a direct expression of the Divine will. It makes you think about the power we wield, the choices we make, and the kind of "fire" we bring into the world. Is it a fire of creation, of devotion, of building? Or a fire of destruction, of anger, of tearing down? Maybe, just maybe, these ancient stories can help us choose wisely.

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