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Michael Pulled Joshua Out of the Furnace With His Hair Singed

Two frauds sentenced to burn in Babylon gave the king a third name, the high priest's, hoping his merit would put the fire out for all three of them.

Curated by Arthur · Told by Maggid ·
Table of Contents
  1. The King Who Walked Out to the Camp
  2. Two Healers and the Wives of the Chaldeans
  3. The Third Name
  4. What Came Down Into the Flames
  5. The Accuser at His Right Hand
Michael Pulled Joshua Out of the Furnace With His Hair Singed Click for full size

The King Who Walked Out to the Camp

Jehoiachin was a good man and a pious one, and he would not let Jerusalem be broken open on his account.

So he went out to the Babylonian commanders himself and handed himself over. They swore an oath first. Neither the city nor the people would be harmed. He believed them and gave himself up, and a short while later they took him anyway, and his mother with him, and ten thousand more, the nobility and the great scholars, out along the road to Babylon. It was the second time Nebuchadnezzar had emptied part of the city. The first time he had taken three hundred of the best, and Ezekiel had been among them.

Exile did not improve anybody. The people who came off that road did in Babylon what they had been doing at home.

Two Healers and the Wives of the Chaldeans

Two of them set up as healers. Ahab son of Kolaiah and Zedekiah son of Maaseiah went to the houses of the Chaldeans and treated their wives, and lied to them, and slept with them, and went on doing it long enough that the story reached the king.

The king did not hold an inquiry. He ordered the two of them burnt.

In whatever room they were kept in before the fire, the two of them worked out a plan, and it was the cleverest thing either of them ever did. There was a man in Babylon whose family had served at the altar in Jerusalem, a man nobody could accuse of anything: Joshua son of Jehozadak, the high priest. If God was going to spare anyone in that furnace, God would spare him. So all they had to do was be standing next to him.

The Third Name

They went in front of the king and told him there had been three.

"Our lord the king, this man was with us in every matter."

They said it plainly, the way men say a thing they have rehearsed. Joshua had done nothing. He had never been in those houses. He had touched none of those women. Two liars had picked his name out of the exile because his life was clean enough to put out a fire, and they wanted to stand in the shade of it.

The king ordered all three of them burnt.

What Came Down Into the Flames

They lit it. Ahab and Zedekiah went in and the fire took them and did not stop.

Then Michael came down through it. He took the high priest out of the middle of the flames and carried him up, past everything, and set him on his feet in front of the throne of glory.

Later people would argue about a single word. The report of that day says the king of Babylon roasted those men in the fire. It does not say he burned them. He roasted them, which is a word for what happens to a thing that is pulled out again, and it is the reason for the one detail that survived on the priest's body. Joshua came out of Babylon with the hair singed off him.

The Accuser at His Right Hand

He was still smoking when the court convened.

Joshua stood in front of the angel of God in the clothes he had been arrested in, and they were filthy, and Ha-Satan was standing at his right hand where the prosecutor stands, ready with the charge that this man had been named by two adulterers and dragged out of a fire lit for adulterers.

The angel did not argue the facts. He looked past the accuser at the state of the man.

"The Lord rebuke you, Satan. Is this not a brand plucked out of the fire?"

Then they stripped the burnt clothing off the high priest where he stood and put clean garments on him and set a clean turban on his head, and the case ended without a verdict, because the evidence was the scorch marks and the evidence was on the wrong side.

The sages who worked over that scene afterwards knew exactly how the accuser operates, because they had watched him work the room every year on the Day of Atonement. The high priest owns eight garments, one for each of the eight days a boy waits for circumcision, since the covenant was made with him, life and peace. Several of those garments are worked with gold. And on the one day of the year when he goes behind the curtain to plead for Israel, he leaves every scrap of gold outside and goes in dressed in plain white linen.

The reason given is a rule of the courtroom. A prosecutor does not get to turn around and act as the advocate. Walk in there with gold on your shoulders, and a voice at your right hand will say: yesterday these people melted their earrings into a calf, and today they want to stand in front of you wearing gold.


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From the tradition

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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.

Pirkei DeRabbi Eliezer 33:14Pirkei DeRabbi Eliezer

Retold in our words. Read the original at the link below.Pirke de Rabbi Eliezer, trans. Rabbi Gerald Friedlander, London (1916) · CC-BY

The story of the exile to Babylon, as told in Pirkei DeRabbi Eliezer 33, gives us a glimpse into that perilous time.

Rabbi Tachanah recounts a dark period. Israel was exiled to Babylon, a time of immense upheaval and suffering. Yet, even in exile, some did not turn away from their "evil deeds.": even in the depths of despair, the struggle to maintain morality persisted.

Two figures, Ahab, son of Kolaiah, and Zedekiah, son of Maaseiah, emerge as particularly troubling examples. They became, in a chilling phrase, "lying healers." But their healing wasn't what it seemed. They were exploiting the wives of the Chaldeans, using their positions for personal gain and immoral acts. The verse reads, "they healed the wives of the Chaldeans, and came unto them for coition."

When the king discovered their treachery, he ordered them to be burnt alive. Facing their imminent demise, Ahab and Zedekiah tried a desperate and wicked gambit. They implicated Joshua, the son of Jehozadak, the High Priest, hoping his reputation would somehow save them. "Let us say that Joshua, the son of Jehozadak, was with us, and he will save us from the burning with fire." Can you imagine the audacity?

The king, enraged, ordered all three to be thrown into the fire. But here’s where the story takes a turn. The angel Michael descended and rescued Joshua from the flames, bringing him before the throne of glory. As the prophet Zechariah recounts, "And he shewed me Joshua, the high priest" (Zech. 3:1). Joshua was spared, evidence of his righteousness.

Ahab and Zedekiah, however, were not so fortunate. They were consumed by the fire. The prophet Jeremiah speaks of them, saying, "And of them shall be taken up a curse…. The Lord make thee like Zedekiah and like Ahab, whom the king of Babylon roasted in the fire" (Jer. 29:22).

Now, pay close attention to the language. It doesn't say "burnt," but "roasted." Pirkei DeRabbi Eliezer highlights this detail. The text emphasizes "whom he roasted," hence we learn that his hairs were singed on account of their sins." This excruciating detail emphasizes the severity of their punishment. It's a visceral image of divine justice. The text then quotes (Psalms 10:2), "In the pride of the wicked the poor is hotly pursued."

But how do we know that Joshua was truly saved? The answer, lies in another verse from Zechariah: "And the Lord said unto Satan, The Lord rebuke thee, O Satan.… Is not this a brand plucked out of the fire?" (Zech. 3:2). This powerful image of a brand plucked from the fire symbolizes Joshua's miraculous rescue, evidence of divine intervention.

This story, drawn from Pirkei DeRabbi Eliezer, is more than just a dramatic tale of betrayal and salvation. It speaks to the importance of integrity, the consequences of deceit, and the enduring power of divine protection for those who remain righteous. It also shows us the importance of even the smallest details in the Torah's language. How different is roasting versus burning? In this story, it meant the difference between redemption and destruction.

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Kedushat Levi, TetzavehKedushat Levi (Rabbi Levi Yitzchak)

Retold in our words. Read the original at the link below.Sefaria-hosted English translation · CC-BY

Moses' name does not appear in Parshat Tetzaveh. Rabbi Levi Yitzchak of Berditchev uses this conspicuous absence to explore a question about wisdom, unity, and the priestly garments.

"A wise son brings joy to his father" (Proverbs 10:1). What is this wisdom? Job answers: "The awe of God, that is wisdom" (Job 28:28). When a person looks at the world and realizes their complete powerlessness, when they see that they owe their very existence to the Creator, awe overwhelms them. That awe is wisdom.

Wisdom goes further. God created phenomena that are direct opposites: fire and water, night and day, wind and earth. A deeper look reveals that even these opposites share a common denominator. They all emerged from the will of a single Creator. Recognizing this unity beneath apparent opposition is the highest wisdom, and it inspires the realization that all creatures should perceive themselves as part of one great whole.

The archangel Michael is made of snow. The archangel Gabriel is made of fire. But neither harms the other (Bamidbar Rabbah 12:7). In the heavenly realms, the peace between opposites is already achieved. On earth, we struggle to replicate it.

The priestly garments were instruments of this unification. Each tzaddik (a righteous person) has a unique "color" or style of serving God. Abraham's service was white, the color of chesed (חסד), lovingkindness. Isaac's was red, the color of gevurah (גבורה), strength. The High Priest's garments combined all colors and all modes of service into a single unified whole, a wearable Torah. When the High Priest donned these garments, he embodied the principle that opposites can coexist in the service of the one God.

Moses' name is absent from this portion because the garments represent a form of divine service that transcends any individual, even Moses. The garments atone for the entire nation, weaving together every soul's unique color into a single priestly garment of atonement.

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Vayikra Rabbah 21:10Vayikra Rabbah

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

The ancient rabbis certainly did! They saw profound symbolism woven into every thread, especially when it came to the garments of the Kohen Gadol, the High Priest. the High Priest wasn’t just dressing for the job; he was embodying a sacred role, connecting the earthly and the divine. So, what did his clothes say?

Rabbi Ḥanina and Rabbi Yehoshua ben Levi, two sages who were colleagues of the Rabbis, offered one explanation in Vayikra Rabbah. They pointed out that the High Priest served with eight vestments. Why eight? It corresponds, they said, to circumcision, which happens on the eighth day. It's a powerful connection, echoing the verse: “My covenant was with him, life and peace" (Malachi 2:5). Circumcision, the physical mark of the covenant, mirrored in the High Priest's very attire.

The questions didn’t stop there. Rabbi Simon, quoting Rabbi Yehoshua, asked: why didn't the High Priest enter the Kodesh Hakodashim, the Holy of Holies, wearing his golden vestments? The answer is fascinating. "A prosecutor does not become an advocate," Rabbi Simon explained. The idea was to avoid giving the accuser – the Satan, the adversary – any ammunition. Imagine the accusation: "Yesterday, they crafted golden gods, and now they are seeking to serve in golden vestments?" A stark reminder of the sin of the Golden Calf!

Rabbi Yehoshua of Sikhnin, citing Rabbi Levi, offered a different take. Perhaps it was to spare the money of Israel. The garments worn by the High Priest in the Holy of Holies on Yom Kippur, the Day of Atonement, were used only once. (We'll delve deeper into that ritual later in Vayikra Rabbah, section 12).

And Rabbi Levi himself suggested yet another reason: to avoid arrogance. As the verse in Proverbs (25:6) wisely states, "Do not glorify yourself before a king." The High Priest, entering the most sacred space, needed to be humble, not ostentatious.

So, a single question – why these clothes? – opens up layers of meaning. Covenant, sin, atonement, humility… all woven into the fabric of the High Priest's garments. What are our vestments, and what messages are they sending?

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Legends of the Jews 9:61Legends 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

Jehoiachin was a king of Judah, and not a particularly lucky one, it seems. He inherited the throne at a turbulent time, with the Babylonian empire breathing down Jerusalem's neck. Nebuchadnezzar, that infamous king, was making his presence felt.

Jehoiachin was, by all accounts, a good and pious man. Ginzberg, in his Legends of the Jews, tells us that Jehoiachin, seeing the precariousness of Jerusalem's situation, made a difficult choice. He didn't want the city to suffer because of him.

So, he did something incredibly brave, or perhaps incredibly naive. He surrendered himself to the Babylonian leaders. But he didn’t do it blindly. He made them swear an oath: if he gave himself up, they wouldn't harm the city or its people. A noble sacrifice. You'd think that would be enough. You'd think the Babylonians, bound by their word, would honor the agreement. But, as is so often the case in history (and sometimes in life), promises are broken.

The Babylonians, those oath-breakers, did not keep their word.

Not long after Jehoiachin's surrender, they exiled not only the king himself, but also his mother, and a staggering ten thousand of the Jewish nobility and great scholars. Ten thousand! It was a devastating blow.

This, Legends of the Jews reminds us, wasn't Nebuchadnezzar's first rodeo when it came to deporting the Jews. He'd tried it before. On taking the former king, Jehoiakim, captive, he had exiled three hundred of the noblest of the people, among them the prophet Ezekiel. That first deportation was like a warning shot, a sign of things to come.

So, what are we left with? A story of sacrifice, betrayal, and exile. Jehoiachin’s intentions were pure, his actions seemingly selfless. Yet, the consequences were dire.

Is it better to fight, even when the odds are stacked against you? Or is there a point where self-sacrifice, even with the best intentions, becomes a futile gesture? The story of Jehoiachin leaves us with more questions than answers, a reminder that sometimes, even the noblest acts can't prevent the wheels of history from grinding forward.

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