5 min read

Jacob Read Seven Tablets From Heaven and Wept Over What They Contained

After wrestling the angel at Peniel, Jacob saw an angel descend with seven tablets containing the complete future of his descendants. He read them and wept.

Curated by Arthur · Told by Maggid ·
Table of Contents
  1. After the Wrestling Match
  2. The Tour of Jewish History Inside a Dream
  3. The Messiah at the End of the Tablets
  4. What the Vision at Bethel Showed About Sinai and the Temple

After the Wrestling Match

Jacob wrestled through the night at the ford of the Jabbok and walked away at dawn with a limp and a new name. The sunrise was still fresh on the ground when he crossed to meet Esau with the careful arrangements he had made for his family's safety. The wrestling match is the famous event. The vision that followed it is less often told.

The Book of Jubilees, chapter 32, composed in Hebrew in the Land of Israel around 160 BCE, records that after God had finished speaking with Jacob at Bethel and ascended, Jacob lay down and saw in a vision of the night an angel descending with seven tablets in his hands. The angel gave them to Jacob. Jacob read them. Then the angel ascended with the tablets.

The text does not tell us exactly what the tablets contained. It says Jacob read all that was written in them and then wept. That weeping is the essential detail. Whatever Jacob read was not encouraging in every particular. The complete future of his descendants includes slavery in Egypt and forty years in the desert and the building and destruction of the Temple and exile after exile. A father reading all of that about his children would weep. Jacob wept because he could see what was coming for the people who would carry his name, and he could not stop any of it.

The Tour of Jewish History Inside a Dream

Ginzberg's Legends of the Jews, compiled between 1909 and 1938, draws on midrashic traditions that expand what the tablets contained. Jacob did not receive an abstract summary. He saw specific events. The revelation at Mount Sinai. The ascent of Elijah into heaven. The Temple in all its glory and then, heartbreakingly, the Temple in ruins. He was not spared the difficult parts. He saw Nebuchadnezzar's attempt to destroy what his descendants would build. He saw the exile. He saw the patterns of destruction and return and destruction again.

Pirkei DeRabbi Eliezer, an early medieval Jewish text that expands on biblical narratives, preserves a related tradition about the Bethel vision. Drawing on Ecclesiastes (7:8), better is the end of a thing than its beginning, the text argues that the blessings Jacob received at Bethel were greater than the earlier blessings Isaac had spoken over him. The earlier blessings were earthly: dew of heaven, fatness of the earth. The Bethel blessings were foundational, applying to both this world and the world to come.

The tablets extended this. They were not earthly blessings. They were the complete architecture of what was coming, which is a different kind of gift. To see the end from the beginning, even when the middle is terrible, is to understand that the destruction you are about to observe is not the final word. Jacob wept because he could see the suffering. He did not despair because the tablets showed the whole arc, not just the painful middle.

The Messiah at the End of the Tablets

Jacob prophesied on his deathbed that the Messiah would come from Judah. Ginzberg's synthesis preserves the tradition in all its specificity: Jacob lay in Egypt surrounded by his sons and looked down through the generations and saw the end of the line. He had already seen what was in the tablets. Now he was distributing the information that he had been allowed to carry.

He did not give his sons equal portions of what he knew. He gave each son what pertained to his tribe, what would help them understand their own role in the long history the tablets had shown him. Judah received the Messianic promise. The scepter shall not depart from Judah, nor the ruler's staff from between his feet. The tradition reads this as the point at which the tablets' contents were partially disclosed: not the complete vision, but the promise at its end, the redemption that made the destruction survivable.

What the Vision at Bethel Showed About Sinai and the Temple

Jacob saw Sinai before Sinai happened. He saw the Temple before Solomon was born. He saw the destruction of the Temple before David conceived the desire to build it. The tablets were a document of the future held in the hands of a man living in the patriarchal present, read once and then taken back by the angel who had brought them.

The tradition's purpose in preserving this vision is theological rather than merely narrative. It establishes that the history of Israel was not improvised. God did not react to events as they developed. The tablets existed before the events they described. The Exodus was written before the bondage began. The Temple was written before the land was entered. The destruction was written before the Temple was built. Jacob read all of this in a night vision after wrestling with an angel, and then he wept and lay back down to sleep, and in the morning he got up and faced Esau.

JacobMessiahProphecyAngelsExileCreationDreams
← All myths

From the tradition

Sources

4 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 Jubilees 32:27Book of Jubilees

After Jacob's direct encounter with the Divine, something unexpected happens. The text says, "He finished speaking with him, and He went up from him, and Jacob looked till He had ascended into heaven." You'd think that whatever spot that happened on would be hallowed ground forever.

Then, things take a turn.

Jubilees 32 continues: "And he saw in a vision of the night, and behold an angel descended from heaven with seven tablets in his hands, and he gave them to Jacob, and he read them and knew all that was written therein which would befall him and his sons throughout all the ages." Seven tablets! Knowledge of the future! Sounds intense, doesn't it? Like something out of a movie.

What did these tablets say? What cosmic secrets were revealed to Jacob in that moment? It wasn't all sunshine and roses, that's for sure.

The angel tells him, straight up: "Do not build this place, and do not make it an eternal sanctuary, and do not dwell here; for this is not the place."

Ouch.

Can you imagine? The high of that earlier encounter, immediately followed by being told to pack your bags and move on. No eternal sanctuary here. This isn't "the spot." What a letdown!

It makes you wonder, doesn't it? Why this specific instruction? Was there something inherently wrong with that location? Or was it more about Jacob's journey, about the need to keep moving, to keep searching? Perhaps the "eternal sanctuary" wasn't meant to be a physical place at all.

Maybe, just maybe, the real sanctuary was meant to be built within. A sanctuary of faith, of resilience, of unwavering commitment to the path, wherever it may lead.

We don't get a detailed explanation in Jubilees. Sometimes, the most profound lessons come without lengthy explanations. Sometimes, all we get is the instruction, and it's up to us to figure out what it truly means.

What do you think it means? Where is your sanctuary? And what would you do if you were told to leave it behind?

Full source
Legends of the Jews 6:102Legends of the Jews

Legends of the Jews turns to Jacob's Dream Showed Sinai the Temple and the Messiah.

Can you even fathom it? God, in His infinite wisdom, showed Jacob nothing less than the revelation at Mount Sinai, the very moment the Torah was given! Think about the sheer awe of that vision. But it didn't stop there. Jacob also witnessed the ascent of Elijah into heaven, a truly miraculous event.

The visions kept coming. Jacob saw the Beit HaMikdash – the Temple – in all its glory, a shining beacon of faith. But heartbreakingly, he also witnessed its destruction, its spoliation, a tragedy that still resonates with us today.

It’s like a whirlwind tour of Jewish history, all within a single dream. He wasn't spared the difficult parts, either. The dream included Nebuchadnezzar’s attempt to burn Hananiah, Mishael, and Azariah (the "three holy children") in the fiery furnace, and even Daniel's encounter with Bel, the Babylonian idol. According to tradition, this was Jacob's first prophetic dream, a profound experience.

But what did it all mean? What was the message behind this extraordinary preview?

Well, God made a powerful promise to Jacob in that dream. He declared that the very land upon which Jacob was lying would be given to him and his descendants. But here's the really part: the land he was lying on wasn't just a small patch of ground. Instead, God had miraculously folded the entire land of Palestine together and placed it beneath him! Imagine the scope of that.

"And," God continued, "thy seed will be like unto the dust of the earth." This is a double-edged promise, as we find in Midrash Rabbah. On one hand, "As the earth survives all things, so thy children will survive all the nations of the earth." A beautiful evidence of the enduring strength of the Jewish people.

But there's a somber side to it as well. "But as the earth is trodden upon by all, so thy children, when they commit trespasses, will be trodden upon by the nations of the earth." A stark reminder of the consequences of our actions and the challenges we would face throughout history.

And finally, God promised that Jacob would spread out to the west and to the east, a promise even greater than those given to his fathers, Abraham and Isaac. They were allotted a limited land, but Jacob's possession would be unbounded. A vision of a future where Jacob's descendants would have influence far and wide.

So, what do we take away from this incredible story? It’s a reminder of the profound connection between the Jewish people, the land of Israel, and our destiny. It’s a story filled with both immense promise and solemn warning. And it all began with a dream.

Full source
Pirkei DeRabbi Eliezer 35:1Pirkei DeRabbi Eliezer

Jacob saw a ladder at Bethel, but Pirkei DeRabbi Eliezer hears the end of history hidden in that night vision.

"Better is the end of a thing than the beginning thereof," Ecclesiastes tells us (7:8). This idea perfectly encapsulates Jacob's journey. Initially, Isaac's blessings to Jacob focused on earthly abundance: "And God give thee of the dew of heaven, and of the fatness of the earth" (Genesis 27:28). These are good things, no doubt! But the final blessings? Those were on a whole different level.

The later blessings, the ones bestowed upon Jacob at Bethel, were about something much more profound: the very foundation of the world. The text emphasizes that these blessings are uninterrupted, applying to both this world and the world to come. As it says, "And God Almighty bless thee" (Genesis 28:3). And it gets even better! Jacob also receives Abraham’s blessing: "And may he give thee the blessing of Abraham, to thee and to thy seed with thee" (Genesis 28:4). Now

This is why, as Pirkei DeRabbi Eliezer points out, "Better is the end of a thing than the beginning thereof." The initial blessings were good, sure. But the ultimate blessings, the ones connecting Jacob to the very fabric of existence and the legacy of Abraham? Those were truly transformative.

The text goes on to say: "Better is the patient in spirit than the proud in spirit." This is where the contrast between Jacob and his brother, Esau, really shines. Jacob, we're told, was patient and spoke words of entreaty – a man of humility. Esau, on the other hand, is described as proud and self-centered.

Every day Esau would eat the flesh of what he hunted, indulging in his own prowess. But because of his pride, he didn’t share any of his food with Jacob. Then one day, Esau returns from a hunt empty-handed. Famished, he sees Jacob eating lentil stew. Driven by his immediate hunger, he pleads, "Let me gulp down, I pray thee, some of that red pottage" (Genesis 25:30).

Jacob then makes a connection between Esau’s nature and this "red pottage". Jacob says to him: Thou camest forth red at thy birth from thy mother; (now) thou dost desire to eat (this) red food; therefore he called his name "Edom" (red), as it is said, "And Esau said to Jacob" (ibid.).

This moment, though seemingly small, reveals a crucial difference between the brothers. Esau's pride and impulsiveness lead him to prioritize immediate gratification, while Jacob's patience and humility ultimately lead to blessings of eternal significance.

So, what can we learn from this? Perhaps it's a reminder to persevere, even when things seem difficult at the start. Maybe it's a call to cultivate patience and humility, recognizing that true blessings often come later in life. Or perhaps, it's simply a comforting thought: that even if our beginnings are humble, our endings can be extraordinary. After all, sometimes the greatest rewards are reserved for those who are patient enough to see things through.

Full source
Legends of the Jews 1:397Legends of the Jews

It’s a powerful theme that echoes through the Torah and the later rabbinic traditions. Take Jacob, for example, on his deathbed, surrounded by his sons. His words, according to Legends of the Jews, weren't always what you’d call sunshine and rainbows.

Readers often remember Jacob’s harsh words for Simon and Levi, particularly after their violent actions. "I will divide them in Jacob," he said. And, the prophecy was fulfilled. The tribe of Simon dwindled after the incident at Shittim, where twenty-four thousand men perished. The surviving women ended up marrying into other tribes, effectively scattering Simon's descendants.

Here's the twist, the part that often gets overlooked. Even in rebuke, there's a blessing. Jacob didn’t just dismiss them! He foresaw that the tribe of Simon would produce the teachers and beadles – the caretakers and administrators – needed by all of Israel. And Levi? They would become the scholars, the ones who would examine the Torah’s wisdom and guide the people with their rulings.

The other sons, understandably, were a bit nervous. Imagine sitting there, waiting for your turn, wondering if your own past misdeeds would be dragged into the light. Judah, especially, was anxious, fearing Jacob would bring up the sticky situation with Tamar.

But instead, Jacob turned to Judah with…praise? "Judah, thou dost deserve thy name," he declared. His mother Leah named him Yehudah (Judah) because she gave praise to God at his birth, and Jacob said, "So shall thy brethren praise thee, and they all will call themselves by thy name.": The very name "Jew" is derived from Judah!

And the blessings kept coming. Jacob acknowledged Judah’s confession of his sin, comparing him to future descendants like Achan, David, and Manasseh, who would also publicly confess their sins and find forgiveness. He lauded Judah's bravery, comparing him to a dog and a lion (a rather interesting combination!). And remember how Judah saved Joseph from death, and Tamar and her sons from being burned? Those acts of courage were not forgotten.

Then comes the big one, the messianic prophecy. "Rulers shall not cease from the house of Judah, nor teachers of the law from his posterity, until his descendant Messiah come, and the obedience of all peoples be unto him." The Midrash Rabbah and the Zohar are filled with similar imagery and predictions about this future ruler.

And what a picture Jacob paints! The Messiah of the House of Judah, girded for battle, invincible against his enemies. Mountains dyed red with the blood of the wicked. Even the Messiah’s garments are described with vivid detail: "The garments of Messiah will be like the garments of him that presseth wine." His eyes pure, never beholding anything unchaste or violent; his teeth whiter than milk, never biting anything obtained unjustly.

So, what can we take away from this deathbed scene? It’s a reminder that even in moments of rebuke, blessings can be found. That past mistakes don't define us, and that even in the face of our shortcomings, there's the potential for greatness, for redemption, and for a future filled with hope. And perhaps most importantly, it reminds us of the enduring power of confession, of taking responsibility for our actions, and of the promise of a better world to come.

Full source