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Gabriel Carried a Baby Sealed in Clay and Laid It Before God's Throne

Rachel was treading clay for bricks when her labor came. The child dropped into the mud and sank. An angel went down after it.

Curated by Arthur · Told by Maggid ·
Table of Contents
  1. The Clay Closed Over Him
  2. The Night God Looked
  3. Uzza Came to Argue at the Sea
  4. The Verdict, and the Appeal After It
  5. What Michael Signalled
  6. What Nadab and Abihu Saw at the Mountain
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The Clay Closed Over Him

On the morning Israel walked out of Egypt, Rachel the daughter of Shuthelah was still in the pit. Nobody had released her. She and her husband were treading clay together, turning it under their feet the way it had to be turned before it would hold the shape of a brick, and her labor came on her standing in it.

The child dropped from her into the clay and sank out of sight.

She went in after him with both arms. Wet clay closes the way water closes, without a seam, and it gives nothing back. She brought up handfuls of the pit and nothing else.

Then Gabriel came down. He gathered the clay that had the child in it, and he worked it into the shape Egypt demanded, an ordinary brick, one of that day's count. Then he carried it up through every heaven and set it at the foot of God's throne, and left it there as a footstool.

The Night God Looked

That night God looked at Israel and at what had been done to them, and the firstborn of Egypt died. It became one of four nights written into the Book of Memorial. The first was the night God came out over the waste and the darkness and spread light around with a word. The second was the night He stood between the split carcasses and swore to Abraham. This was the third. The fourth has not happened yet.

By morning the Egyptians were pushing silver into the hands of people they had been beating a day earlier, begging them to go, and the dead lay in the houses unburied because nobody would stop to bury them.

Uzza Came to Argue at the Sea

Days later the water stood open and the chariots were inside it, and heaven prepared to close the sea. That was the moment Uzza, the angel of the Egyptians, appeared and refused to let his people drown.

"Lord of the world," he said. "You are called just and upright. Before You there is no wrong, no forgetting, no favor shown to any face. Why do You want my children to die in the sea? Can You say that my children drowned a single one of Yours, or killed one? And if it is for the hard labor they laid on Israel, Your children have already been paid. They walked out carrying the silver and the gold."

The silver was real. Israel stood on the far bank with Egypt's household wealth in their arms, forced on them at the door by the same people who had held the whips.

The Verdict, and the Appeal After It

The whole celestial family answered when God had finished speaking for Israel. "You have every right to drown him in the sea."

Uzza heard the verdict and did not argue with it. He changed his ground instead.

"Lord of all the worlds. I know my people deserve what You have decreed. But let it please You to deal with them by Your mercy. Take pity on the work of Your hands, because Your tender mercies are over all Your works."

It nearly worked. The sea hung open. God came close to yielding.

What Michael Signalled

Michael made a sign to Gabriel, and Gabriel dropped out of the court and flew to Egypt.

He came back holding a brick, and there was a Hebrew child in it where the mortar should have been. He stepped in front of the throne with it in his hands and held it up so the court could see what he was holding.

"Lord of the world. Will You have compassion on the accursed nation that slaughtered Your children like this?"

God turned away from the attribute of mercy. He sat down on the throne of justice, and the sea came together over the chariots, and Uzza said nothing else.

What Nadab and Abihu Saw at the Mountain

Weeks later, on Sinai, Nadab and Abihu went up with the elders and lifted their eyes and looked straight at the glory of the God of Israel. Under His feet, set beneath the throne, was a work like sapphire stone, and inside the stone was a memorial of the servitude: women treading clay beside their husbands, and among them a young woman heavy with child, beaten down into the clay with it.

That was the brick. Gabriel had gone down and made it and come up and set it there, and it had the clarity of a precious stone, and the strength of the beauty of the sky on a day with no cloud in it, and the young men looked at it and kept looking, and the elders ate and drank.


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Eikhah Rabbah 2:3Eikhah Rabbah

Retold in our words. Read the original at the link below.The Sefaria Midrash Rabbah, 2022 · CC-BY

“And did not remember His footstool [hadom raglav],” Rabbi Ḥanina bar Yitzḥak said: The Holy One blessed be He does not remember that blood [hadam] that was between the legs of the elder, as it is stated: “Abraham was ninety-nine years old when he was circumcised on the flesh of his foreskin” (Genesis 17:24). Rabbi Yudan said: [This is analogous] to a king who seized his enemies and killed them, and the residents of his province were dipping their feet in the blood of his enemies. One time, they provoked him and he expelled them from his palace. They said: ‘The king does not remember to our credit that blood in which we dipped our feet, the blood of his enemies.’ So too, Israel said before the Holy One blessed be He: ‘You do not remember to our credit that blood that was in Egypt, as it is stated: “You shall take from the blood and you shall place it on the doorposts and on the lintel”’ (Exodus 12:7).Alternatively, “and did not remember His footstool,” footstool is nothing other than the Temple. That is what is written: “Exalt the Lord our God and prostrate yourselves to His footstool; He is holy” (Psalms 99:5). “On the day of His wrath,” Rabbi Aḥa said: The wrath of the Holy One blessed be He was one day. Had Israel repented, they would have moderated it. “He called in my ears with a loud voice, saying: Those appointed over the city, approach, each with his weapon of destruction in his hand” (Ezekiel 9:1). Until when is the sin of the calf in existence?12Until when will Israel be punished for the sin of the Golden Calf? Rabbi Berekhya, and some say Rabbi Neḥemya ben Elazar, [said]: Until the calves of Yerovam ben Nevat.13Until Yerovam constructed his calves (see I Kings 12:28). That is what is written: “When I will heal Israel, the iniquity of Ephraim and the evildoing of Samaria will be revealed” (Hosea 7:1). The Holy One blessed be He said: ‘I came to heal Israel of the sin of the calf, and the evils of Samaria were revealed.’ Rabbi Yishmael bar Naḥmani said in the name of Rabbi Yoḥanan: Until the destruction of the Temple, as it is written: “Those appointed over the city [pekudot] approach, each with his weapon of destruction in his hand” (Ezekiel 9:1), and it is written: “And on the day of My reckoning, I will reckon [pakadti] their sin upon them” (Exodus 32:34).It is written: “And behold, six men were coming from the way of the Upper Gate, which faces northward, each with his weapon of destruction in his hand, and one man in their midst was clad in linen, with a scribe's inkwell at his waist. They came and they stood beside the bronze altar” (Ezekiel 9:2). It says six here, but were there not five decrees? As it is written: “And to those He said in my earshot: Pass through the city behind him and smite; let your eye not pity and do not have compassion” (Ezekiel 9:5). And it is written: “Slay utterly the elderly, the youth, the young woman and the child, and the women” (Ezekiel 9:6).14The men referred to in (Ezekiel 9:2) are angels of destruction, yet there are only five groups of people mentioned in the verse as slated for destruction, so five angels should have sufficed. Rabbi Yoḥanan said: He spoke to the most severe angel in their midst, this is Gavriel, as it is stated: “And one man in their midst was clad in linen, with a scribe's inkwell at his waist” (Ezekiel 9:2).15This angel was one of the six, but it did not actually carry out the destruction.That angel served in three capacities: Scribe, executioner, and a High Priest. A scribe as it is written: “With a scribe's inkwell at his waist.” An executioner, as it is stated: “He destroyed them, delivered them to slaughter.” (Isaiah 34:2).16The verse ascribes this destruction and slaughter to “rage [ketzef],” which is identified as Gavriel (see Shabbat 55a). This destruction took place at a different time than that described in Ezekiel chap. 9. High Priest, as it is stated: “And one man in their midst was clad in linen,” and it is written regarding a priest: “He shall don a sacred linen tunic” (Leviticus 16:4).“Each with his weapon of destruction [mapatzo] in his hand” (Ezekiel 9:1), his weapons, his razing equipment, and his equipment for causing exile. His weapons, “each with his weapon of destruction in his hand,” his razing equipment, “As he renders all the altar stones like shattered limestone” (Isaiah 27:9), his equipment for causing exile, as it is written: “You are a weapon of destruction [mapetz]17This word is related to the word lehafitz, which connotes scattering and dispersal. for Me, weapons of war” (Jeremiah 51:20).And it is written: “They came and they stood beside the bronze altar” (Ezekiel 9:2). Rabbi Yehuda ben Rabbi Simon said: Until the place of its boundary.18The altar in the courtyard of the Temple was stone, not bronze (see Shabbat 55a and Rashi ad loc.), but it served the same functions as the bronze altar in the courtyard of the Tabernacle. One of its functions was to serve as a boundary beyond which non-priests were not permitted to go. The angels described in this verse were also not permitted to go past this demarcation point. The Rabbis say: They stand and call attention the sins of Aḥaz, in whose regard it is written: “The bronze altar will be for me to visit” (II Kings 16:15). What is to visit [levaker]? Rabbi Pinḥas said: He disqualified it and rendered it blemished,19It was as though all the animals sacrificed on it were blemished. just as it says: “The priest shall not deem impure [yevaker]” (Leviticus 13:36). “The Lord said to him [elav]: Pass through the midst of the city…Jerusalem” (Ezekiel 9:4). Elo is written.20The word elav is written without a yod, such that it can be read elo, which means his powerful one. Rabbi Shimon ben Lakish said: to the most severe angel among them,.“You shall set a mark [tav] [upon the foreheads of the men…]” (Ezekiel 9:4). Rav Naḥman said: These are the people who fulfilled the Torah from alef through tav.21The tav was made on the foreheads of the righteous. The Rabbis say: [It connoted] disintegration and dissolution.22The tav was made on the heads of the wicked. Rav said: A tav was placed because it connotes either side: Desolation, desolation [tihi] and live, live [teḥi].23A tav was marked on the foreheads of both the righteous and the wicked, but it connoted different things for different people. Rabbi Ḥanina bar Yitzḥak said: The merit of their ancestors has concluded [tama].Rabbi Hoshaya sent [a message] to Rabbi Simon, saying: ‘Since you are situated in the household of the Exilarch, why do you not rebuke them?’ He said to him: ‘If only we may be among those of whom it is written, “[the men] that sigh and that cry [for all the abominations that are done in its midst”’ (Ezekiel 9:4).24It is enough for us to be pained at the sin of others, even if we do not rebuke them, and then we will be like those mentioned in the verse in Ezekiel, who were marked for life while the sinners were marked for death. He said to him: ‘But was it not from them that the calamity began? As it is written: “And to those He said in my earshot: [Pass through the city behind him and smite; let your eye not pity and do not have compassion]”’ (Ezekiel 9:5).Rabbi Elazar said: The Holy One blessed be He never associates His name with evil, but rather with good. That is what is written [in this verse]. And to those God said in my earshot is not written here, but rather: “And to those He said in my earshot: Pass through the city behind him and smite; let your eye not pity and do not have compassion.”25The verse uses the pronoun rather than explicitly mentioning God so that His name not be directly associated with destruction. “The elderly, the youth and the maiden, the children and the women you shall kill for destruction, but do not approach any man upon whom is the sign; begin from My Temple” (Ezekiel 9:6). How is it so?26The verse states that the angels were not to kill any man with a sign, indicating that the righteous would be spared, but then states that the destruction was to begin at the Temple, where there were presumably righteous individuals. At that moment, prosecution sprung before the Throne of Glory. It said before Him: ‘Master of the universe: Which of them was killed for the sake of Your name? Which of them had his brain pierced for the sake of Your name? Which of them gave his life for the sake of Your name?’27The heavenly prosecutor argued that the people had not suffered in God’s name and therefore were not really righteous. He said: ‘They do not warrant a writ of condemnation.’ Rabbi Aivu said: The Holy One blessed be He said: ‘Let My Temple be destroyed but let no hand touch the righteous.’28The righteous were to be spared but the Temple itself was to be destroyed. Rabbi Yehuda ben Rabbi Simon said: It and they warrant a writ of condemnation.29According to this view, God accepted the argument of the prosecutor and ruled that both the Temple and the righteous would be destroyed.Rabbi Tanḥuma and Rabbi Abba [said] in the name of Rabbi Abba:30The reference is to two different scholars by the name of Rabbi Abba. The Holy One blessed be He never said a positive statement and recanted, but here He recanted. That is what is written: “Begin with My Temple” (Ezekiel 9:6). Do not read it as My Temple [mikdashi], but rather as My holy ones [mekudashai]: “Begin with My holy ones.” Immediately, what is written: “It was as they were smiting, and I remained and I fell upon my face, and I cried out and said: Alas, Lord God, are You destroying the entire remnant of Israel?” (Ezekiel 9:8). “Remnant” is nothing other than the righteous; therefore he comes and says: “The Lord demolished and had no compassion.”

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Legends of the Jews 5:13Legends 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

He wasn't just sitting idle. He was in deep conversation – but with whom? Himself? With the Divine?

Then, tradition tells us, an angel appeared. Gabriel, no less! He approached Abraham with the traditional greeting, "Shalom aleichem," "Peace be with thee." And Abraham, ever the gracious host even in isolation, returned the greeting, "Aleichem shalom," "With thee be peace." Then, naturally, he asked, "Who are you?"

Gabriel identified himself as God's messenger. According to Ginzberg’s retelling in Legends of the Jews, Gabriel then led Abraham to a nearby spring. And what did Abraham do? He prayed. He bowed down. He prostrated himself before God. A powerful moment of reconnection and devotion.

Meanwhile, what about his mother? She hadn't forgotten him. As we find in Legends of the Jews, her heart ached. Driven by sorrow and tears, she ventured out from the city, desperately searching for him in that very cave where she'd left him.

She didn't find him there, and her despair intensified. "Woe is me!" she cried, imagining the worst. "That I bore thee only to become a prey for wild beasts – the bears, the lions, the wolves!" She went to the edge of the valley, and there, she saw a young man.

But here’s the twist: she didn’t recognize him. He had grown so much! She approached him, offering the same greeting: "Peace be with thee!" And, just like with Gabriel, he responded, "With thee be peace!" Then he asked, "Why have you come to the desert?"

She explained her heartbreaking mission: "I came from the city, searching for my son." Abraham pressed her: "Who brought your son here?"

And then she poured out the whole story. "I conceived him with my husband Terah. But I feared for his life! The king of Canaan had already slaughtered seventy thousand male children. So, when my labor pains began near this very cave, I gave birth and left him there. Now," she finished, her voice thick with emotion, "I've come back to find him, but he's gone."

The son listening to his mother recount the agonizing decision she made to save his life, neither of them knowing who the other truly was. What a powerful, bittersweet encounter. How often do we unknowingly cross paths with those who are deeply connected to our own stories?

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Legends of the Jews 4:347Legends 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

Because, according to some traditions, even the ten plagues weren't enough to soften the hearts of the Egyptians. The oppression of the Hebrews continued relentlessly, right up to the very moment of their freedom. In fact, the Legends of the Jews (Ginzberg) tells a heartbreaking tale of a woman named Rachel, daughter of Shuthelah.

On the very day of the Exodus, as Rachel and her husband toiled, making bricks from clay, she went into labor. In the midst of this grueling work, the baby slipped from her womb and vanished into the clay. A truly devastating moment.

Then, something extraordinary happened.

Gabriel, the archangel, appeared. He molded that very clay, the clay that had swallowed the child, into a brick. And what did he do with this brick? He carried it all the way to the highest heavens, placing it as a footstool before the Divine throne. Can you picture that? A symbol of unimaginable suffering transformed into something that literally supports the glory of God.

It was on that very night, the Legends of the Jews continues, that God finally looked upon the suffering of Israel, and the tenth and final plague – the slaying of the firstborn – was unleashed upon Egypt. This night, according to tradition, is one of four nights so significant that God inscribed them in the Book of Memorial.

So, what are the other three?

The first, unsurprisingly, is the night God appeared to create the world. Imagine the scene: utter chaos, emptiness, darkness covering the abyss. Then, the Lord's word bursts forth, and light floods everything. (Ginzberg, Legends).

The second night commemorates God's appearance to Abraham at the brit bein ha-betarim (ברית בין הבתרים), the covenant of the pieces. This is a pivotal moment in our history, marking the beginning of God's special relationship with Abraham and his descendants.

And the third? Well, we've already touched on it: the night in Egypt when God struck down the firstborn of the Egyptians with His right hand, while simultaneously protecting the firstborn of the Israelites with His left. It's a night of both destruction and salvation, forever etched in the memory of our people (Midrash Rabbah).

But the story doesn't end there. The fourth night, the Legends of the Jews tells us, is yet to come. It will be the night when the final redemption is accomplished, when the iron yoke of the wicked kingdom is broken, and evildoers are destroyed. In this future, Moses will emerge from the desert, and the Messiah will come from Rome – each leading their respective flocks. And the word of God, the ultimate mediator, will guide them both to walk together in harmony.

A reminder that even in the midst of suffering and oppression, hope remains. That even the darkest moments can be transformed into something sacred. And that the story of redemption is not just a thing of the past, but a promise for the future.

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Legends of the Jews 1:39Legends 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 familiar picture has that moment as a straightforward triumph of good over evil. God parts the sea, the Israelites cross to safety, and then… boom. The Egyptians are swallowed by the waves. But according to the legends, the story is far more complex. It's a moment filled with divine debate, angelic advocacy, and profound questions about justice.

The scene. The Israelites are safe, the Egyptians are in pursuit, and God is about to unleash the full force of the sea. But then, an angel steps forward. Not just any angel, but Uzza, the Angel of the Egyptians.

Angels have roles, just like us. Some are in charge of rain, others of healing, and some, like Uzza, are even the spiritual representatives of entire nations. As we read in Legends of the Jews, Uzza felt compelled to defend his people, even as they faced annihilation.

He challenges God directly. "O Lord of the world!" he cries out, "Thou are called just and upright... Why, then, dost Thou desire to make my children perish in the sea?" He reminds God of His own principles: justice, impartiality, and fairness. It's a bold move, questioning the Almighty, but Uzza feels he must speak for those about to be lost.

And his argument? It's a fascinating one. He asks, "Canst Thou say that my children drowned or slew a single one of Thine?" He points out that the Egyptians, despite their cruelty, hadn't committed outright murder against the Israelites.

Then comes the kicker. Uzza argues that even the harsh slavery the Egyptians imposed had been compensated. "Thy children," he says, "have received their wages, in that they took their silver and golden vessels from them." In other words, the Israelites were paid for their labor with the wealth they carried out of Egypt.

It forces us to consider the complexities of justice and retribution. Was the Egyptians' suffering a just punishment? Or was it an excessive response to their actions?

The text doesn't tell us how God responded to Uzza's plea in this particular telling. But the fact that this debate is even included in the narrative speaks volumes. It suggests that even in moments of divine intervention, there's room for questioning, for advocacy, and for a profound wrestling with the nature of justice. This isn’t a simple story of good versus evil; it's a reminder that even divine actions are subject to scrutiny and debate within the heavenly realms.

What other unseen arguments and angelic pleas are happening behind the scenes of the stories we think we know so well? And what does it tell us about our own responsibility to question, to advocate, and to seek justice in the world?

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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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Targum Pseudo-Jonathan on Exodus 24:10Targum Pseudo-Jonathan on Exodus

Retold in our words. Read the original at the link below.The Targum of Jonathan ben Uzziel, trans. J. W. Etheridge, London, 1862 · Public Domain

When Nadab and Abihu lifted their eyes at Sinai and beheld the glory of the God of Israel, they saw something no prophet had described before. Beneath the divine throne, serving as a footstool, lay a stone like sapphire. The Targum teaches that this was no ornament. It was a memorial.

The sapphire held the memory of Egypt. When the Egyptians forced the children of Israel to labor in clay and bricks, women trod the mud alongside their husbands. Among them walked a pregnant young woman, delicate and weary, who was beaten down into the clay until she miscarried. The suffering that drowned her child did not vanish. The angel Gabriel descended, gathered that clay, and formed a single brick from it. Then he ascended to the heavens and placed it as a footstool beneath the throne of the Lord of the world.

The splendor of that brick, the Targum says, shone like a precious stone, radiant as the beauty of the clear heavens when no cloud obscures them. God had taken the worst day in Egypt and made it the nearest object to His feet.

This is the Shekhinah's logic. The Holy One does not forget the anonymous. A young woman whose name we will never know has her grief installed permanently at the base of the divine throne. Every time God is enthroned in vision, He rests His feet on Egypt's cruelty as a witness that will not be erased. Nadab and Abihu saw this and lived to eat and drink in its presence.

The memorial is not revenge. It is covenant memory. The God who brought Israel out of Egypt keeps the receipts, and He keeps them close enough to feel underfoot.

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