6 min read

Judah Could Not Draw His Sword on the Man Who Held Benjamin

His roar carried four hundred parsangs. Hushim son of Dan heard it standing in Canaan and jumped, and Egypt came close to turning over that afternoon.

Curated by Arthur · Told by Maggid ·
Table of Contents
  1. The Day He Fought Instead of His Father
  2. The Woman He Sent Out to Be Burned
  3. Judah Roared and Egypt Nearly Went Over
  4. Blood Coming Out of Both His Eyes
  5. The Sword That Would Not Come Out
Judah Could Not Draw His Sword on the Man Who Held Benjamin Click for full size

The Day He Fought Instead of His Father

Judah came to Jacob in the morning and told him to sit down. "You fought all day yesterday and you are worn out. Give me today."

The enemy line saw him come and saw the lion in his face and the lion in his teeth, and then they heard the voice, and the fear went through them before the first blow landed. He went over the army the way a flea goes over a dog, from one armed man to the next, hitting and moving and hitting again, and by evening he had put down eighty thousand and ninety six men carrying swords and bows.

He ran out of strength. Zebulun stepped up on his left and took the line and killed eighty thousand more while his brother stood breathing. Then Judah came back into it, grinding his teeth with a sound like thunder cracking in midsummer, and the whole army broke and ran, and did not stop running for eighteen miles.

That night he slept.

The Woman He Sent Out to Be Burned

Years before that, a woman was carried out of a house in Canaan to be put in a fire, and the order had come from him. Tamar was his son's widow and she was pregnant and the sentence was burning, and Judah had said it out loud. "Take her out and burn her."

She did not name him. She sent a bundle to him instead, a seal and a cord and a staff, and told the court the owner of these was the man.

They were his. He was standing in the court of Shem, in front of the elders, in front of his own father, with a way out available to any man willing to keep his mouth shut for one minute. He stood up and said, "She is more righteous than I," and gave the whole of it, and kept nothing back from Jacob and nothing back from the court.

She came out of the fire. So did the twins she was carrying.

Judah Roared and Egypt Nearly Went Over

Then came the famine, and the road to Egypt, and the silver goblet found in the youngest brother's sack.

The man who ran Egypt gave his ruling. "The one who had the cup becomes my slave. The rest of you go home to your father in peace."

"Benjamin is taken," Judah said, "and you talk about peace in my father's house."

Then he roared. The sound went four hundred parsangs. Hushim son of Dan heard it standing in the land of Canaan and jumped and came, and the two of them roared together, and the ground under Egypt came close to turning over. One of them was the roar of a lion and the other was the voice of a great cat. When the anger came up in Judah, every guard in Joseph's hall lost the teeth out of his head.

The brothers caught it off him. They kicked at the floor of that hall until it was cut into furrows, like lions with the kill taken away from them.

Blood Coming Out of Both His Eyes

He was doing it for a boy he had personally guaranteed, and he was doing it for an older account. It was Judah who had let Jacob believe Joseph was dead. He thought, standing in that room, "If I spend myself on this, perhaps the Holy One will let me off that."

The men of Shilo said blood ran out of both his eyes when he was like this. Others said he wore five garments under his clothes, layered the way a soldier layers armor, and that one hair over his heart would stand up and tear through all five.

Joseph watched the signs arrive on his brother's face and went cold. "He may kill me," he thought.

He was sitting on a stone pillar. He kicked it, without getting up, and it came apart into a heap of gravel.

Judah looked at the gravel. "This one is stronger than I am."

The Sword That Would Not Come Out

He put his hand on the hilt and pulled.

The blade stayed in the scabbard. He pulled again and it would not move for him, the same hand that had gone through five coats of armor with one hair, locked on a sword that would not come out of its own sheath.

He let go of it. "This man is afraid of God," he said, and that was the end of the fight, and the family that was two seconds from being finished in a foreign hall walked out of it whole.

The fire he had pulled Tamar and her twins back from opened again in Babylon generations later, and three men out of his people walked through it and came out with nothing burned. A pit of lions opened in the same city, and a lion of Judah went down into it and came up untouched.

In the wilderness his tribe marched under a lion worked in gold with hooks along it like swords, and God let a strip of the seventh cloud of glory rest on the standard, and inside the cloud the first letters of Abraham, Isaac, and Jacob burned with light off the Shechinah (the Divine Presence). Every camp in Israel could see which way Judah was facing.


← All myths

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.

Legends of the Jews 6:242Legends 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

Legends of the Jews turns to Judah's Lion Face Terrified Enemy Warriors.

The scene. The warriors on the opposing side catch sight of Judah. Ginzberg, in Legends of the Jews, paints a striking picture: Judah's "lion face," his "lion teeth," his very voice roaring like a lion. Fear grips them. Can you blame them?

Then, the onslaught begins. Judah doesn't just fight; he becomes a force of nature. He "hopped and jumped over the army like a flea," raining down blows. A flea! It's almost comical, this image of relentless, unstoppable energy. By evening, according to the tale, he had slain eighty thousand and ninety-six men. Eighty thousand! That's not just a battle; that's a cataclysm.

Even a lion tires. Fatigue sets in. And here's where we see the bond of brotherhood. Zebulon steps in, taking his place at Judah's left hand, and continues the fight, mowing down another eighty thousand of the enemy.

Judah, though, is far from done. Regaining his strength, fueled by wrath and fury, he rises again. This time, the description is even more intense: gnashing his teeth "with a noise like unto thunder claps in midsummer." Can you hear that? The sheer ferocity? This isn't just about strength; it's about righteous anger, a primal force unleashed.

The effect is immediate. The enemy army breaks, fleeing for eighteen miles. Eighteen miles! Imagine the terror that must have driven them. Finally, Judah can rest. A respite earned in blood and fury.

What does this story tell us? It's more than just a battle account. It's a glimpse into the qualities of leadership, of courage, and of the bonds that tie us together. It's about stepping up when others are weary, about finding strength within ourselves, and about the sheer, awe-inspiring power that can be unleashed in the face of adversity. It's a reminder that sometimes, the stories we tell are bigger than life itself, echoing with lessons that resonate even today.

Full source
Bamidbar Rabbah 13:4Bamidbar Rabbah

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

From that small verse, the Midrash (rabbinic interpretive commentary) launches into a fascinating exploration of Judah, the tribe of lions, fiery furnaces, and ultimately, God's presence in the world. How? Well, it all starts with another verse: “God is known in Judah…” (Psalms 76:2).

The Midrash asks, how did Judah become so well-known? One answer lies in Judah's own act of confession. Remember the story with Tamar (Genesis 38:26)? Judah publicly admitted, "She is more righteous than I." According to the Midrash, he didn’t withhold the truth from Jacob or from Shem's court. This act of humility and truthfulness, the Midrash suggests, echoes through generations. Because Judah rescued Tamar and her twin sons from being burned alive, Bamidbar Rabbah connects this to the later rescue of Hananya, Mishael, and Azarya from Nebuchadnezzar's fiery furnace! See the connection? One courageous act leading to another, displaying God's presence.

The connections don't stop there. The Midrash continues: “God is known in Judah” – when Daniel descended into the lion’s den and was rescued (Daniel 6). Why Daniel? Because he prayed to God, who is metaphorically called a "lion," as it's written: “They will follow the Lord, He will roar like a lion” (Hosea 11:10). And Daniel himself is from the tribe of Judah, which is also called a "lion," as in “Judah is a lion cub” (Genesis 49:9). It’s like a cosmic echo: let a Lion (God) come and rescue a lion (Daniel) from the mouth of a lion (the literal lions!).

The Midrash offers another reason for Daniel's safety: maybe he resembled the lions! Or, perhaps he wasn't thrown into the furnace because he was seen as Nebuchadnezzar's god. The text points to (Daniel 2:46), where Nebuchadnezzar prostrates himself to Daniel. The Midrash suggests that God intervened to prevent Daniel from being burned, to further reveal His might.

Then, the text shifts gears slightly, addressing a different kind of exile – that of the ten tribes of Israel. The Midrash quotes (Hosea 5:9): “Ephraim will become desolation…among the tribes of Israel I proclaim certainties.” When Judah and Benjamin weren’t exiled initially, the nations questioned God’s fairness. But when Judah was eventually exiled, it served as a stark reminder: no one is exempt from accountability. “God is known in Judah,” even through punishment.

The Midrash then brings in (Psalms 27:3), "If an army besieges me, my heart will not fear." How? By trusting in Moses' blessing: “This for Judah…Hear, Lord, the voice of Judah…and You will be a helper against his adversaries” (Deuteronomy 33:7).

And what about the verse "His name is great in Israel" (Psalms 76:2)? The Midrash interprets this through the lens of (Proverbs 19:29): “Punishments are prepared for cynics.” It's a stark reminder that God anticipates human failings. Before creating humanity, the text says, God prepared the consequences for wrongdoing. It's like a craftsman knowing the flaws in his material beforehand.

The text then touches on the power of prayer, linking "His name is great in Israel" to (Malachi 1:11): “For, from the rising of the sun to its setting, My name is great among the nations…”. But, the Midrash asks, are sacrifices actually offered everywhere? No! Rather, it's about the prayers offered by Jews worldwide. The afternoon prayer (minḥa), the morning prayer connecting to Abraham's actions (Genesis 18:23), and the evening prayer (ketoret) – each evidence of God's presence.

Ultimately, “God is known in Judah” when He takes revenge on their enemies, as (Joel 4:19) states: “Egypt will become desolation and Edom will become a desolate wilderness, due to the villainy against the children of Judah…”.

Finally, we return to Naḥshon at the Red Sea. As the Israelites hesitated, Naḥshon bravely leapt into the waves. As (Psalms 69:2) says, "Rescue me, God, for the waters have come up to my soul." God tells Moses to stop praying and command the Israelites to move forward (Exodus 14:15). Because of this act of faith, God exalted Naḥshon, granting him the honor of presenting his offering first.

So, what does this all mean? Bamidbar Rabbah 13 shows us how interconnected the Jewish tradition is. It's a web of stories, verses, and interpretations, all pointing to one central idea: that God's presence is revealed through acts of courage, humility, prayer, and even through the consequences of our actions. And perhaps, most importantly, it shows us that God is always known, always present, in the midst of it all.

Full source
Legends of the Jews 4:35Legends 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

Legends of the Jews turns to Judah and the First Humans.

Each tribe had its own standard, a visual representation of its unique character and destiny. Judah's standard, for instance, bore a lion. Why a lion? Because Jacob himself had described Judah as "a lion's whelp" (Genesis 49:9). It wasn't just a picture; it was a connection to their forefather's blessing. And these weren't just any lions; they were adorned with "sword-like hooks of gold." Above those hooks, a sliver of the seventh cloud of glory rested, displaying radiant initials of the Avot, the three Patriarchs: Abraham, Isaac, and Jacob. The Shekinah, the divine presence, illuminated those letters.

Then you have Reuben's standard. It featured the figure of a man, linked to the dudaim, the mandrakes, that Reuben found (Genesis 30:14). These plants were believed to resemble human figures. Like Judah's, Reuben's standard also displayed the initials of the Patriarchs, but a different set: Bet, Zade, and 'Ayyin.

What about Ephraim? Their standard featured a fish. What's the connection? Well, Jacob had blessed Ephraim, telling him to multiply like fish (Genesis 48:16). The letters shining above Ephraim's hooks were Resh, Het, and Kof.

Then there's the fascinating case of Dan. "Dan shall be a serpent by the way" (Genesis 49:17), Jacob had said. So, naturally, Dan's standard depicted a serpent. The letters gleaming above their hooks? Mem for Abraham, Kof for Isaac, and Bet for Jacob.

Did you notice a pattern? Each tribe's banner wasn’t just an arbitrary design. It was deeply connected to their ancestral history, their blessings, and their very identity.

But there's more to this story! The letter He from Abraham's name wasn't visible on these standards. Why? Because, as Legends of the Jews tells us, God reserved it for something even grander. Above the Holy Ark, a pillar of cloud rested, displaying the letters Yod and He, spelling Yah. This, my friends, is one of God's names, the one through which He created the world. This pillar wasn't just for show; it provided sunlight during the day and moonlight at night, ensuring that the Israelites, surrounded by clouds, could always distinguish between day and night.

And get this: During the week, these sacred letters, Yod and He, would fly around, hovering over the four standards, moving from one to the other. But, as soon as Shabbat, the Sabbath, arrived, they would freeze in place, remaining stationary until the end of the holy day. A dynamic, divinely-ordained display during the week, transforming into a moment of serene stillness as the Sabbath began.

What does this all tell us? Perhaps that even the banners we carry, the symbols we rally around, can be imbued with deeper meaning, connected to our history, our blessings, and ultimately, to the divine. What symbols are we carrying today, and what stories do they tell?

Full source
Bereshit Rabbah 93:7Bereshit Rabbah

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

This moment, fraught with tension and brotherly love disguised as animosity, is explored in a fascinating passage from Bereshit Rabbah 93.

The story opens with a quote from Ecclesiastes (7:19): “Wisdom will fortify the wise more than ten rulers who were in a city.” But what does this have to do with Judah and Joseph? According to Rabbi Yoḥanan, this verse speaks directly to Joseph's righteous character and the incredible predicament he arranges.

Joseph, having risen to power in Egypt, tests his brothers by accusing Benjamin of stealing his goblet. He declares that Benjamin must remain as his slave, while the others can return to their father, Jacob, in peace. Judah, who had guaranteed Benjamin's safe return, refuses to accept this outcome.

Judah confronts Joseph, and that’s when things escalate dramatically. Bereshit Rabbah tells us that Judah roared in anger, a roar so powerful it traveled four hundred parsangs – an ancient unit of distance, roughly equivalent to a league – until it reached Ḥushim son of Dan. Now, Ḥushim wasn't just any guy; he was a formidable warrior himself. He immediately rushed to Judah's aid.

The text evokes a primal scene: “Both of them roared and the land of Egypt was on the verge of being upended.” It's a moment of pure, unadulterated rage and brotherly loyalty. The Midrash (rabbinic interpretive commentary) even draws a parallel to Job (4:10): “The roar of the lion and the voice of the great cat.” Judah is likened to a lion, as it is written, "Judah is a lion cub" (Genesis 49:9), and Ḥushim son of Dan is also likened to a lion. Talk about an intimidating pair!

Rabbi Yehoshua ben Levi adds that when the other brothers saw Judah's fury, they too were consumed by anger. They kicked the ground, creating furrows, like lions deprived of their prey. Judah, willing to risk his own life for Benjamin, fears he might be punished for his past deception of his father regarding Joseph's disappearance. He thinks, perhaps this act of self-sacrifice will atone for his previous sin.

What was Joseph's reaction to all this? He was shaken, alarmed by the signs of Judah's rage. The text offers some vivid descriptions: Some say blood flowed from Judah's eyes. Others say that when angered, a single hair over his heart would rip through five layers of armor!

In response, Joseph kicked the stone pillar he was seated upon, reducing it to pebbles. This display of strength astonished Judah, who recognized Joseph's superior power. Yet, when Judah tried to draw his sword, he couldn't. He understood then that Joseph must be a God-fearing man, thus echoing the verse: “Wisdom will fortify the wise” (Ecclesiastes 7:19). Here, "wisdom" is understood as yirat Hashem – fear of God.

What a powerful moment! It’s evidence of the strength of family bonds, the consequences of past actions, and the recognition of a higher power. And what does it truly mean to be both powerful and God-fearing?

Full source
Legends of the Jews 2:75Legends 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 patriarch Jacob certainly did.

Him, nearing the end of his days, gathering his sons around him. It’s a powerful scene, fraught with love, anxiety, and a deep desire to impart wisdom that will last generations. According to Legends of the Jews, Jacob had some very specific instructions for his sons, particularly about the tribes of Judah and Levi.

He told them, "This also tell unto your children, that they shall honor Judah and Levi, for from them the Lord will cause a savior to arise unto Israel." What a weighty prophecy! He was entrusting the future, the very salvation of his people, to the descendants of these two sons. It's evidence of the potential he saw in them, in their leadership, and in their dedication to the divine.

Jacob’s vision wasn't all sunshine and rainbows. He knew the path wouldn’t be easy. "For I know that in the end your children will fall off from God, and they will take part in all wickedness, malice, and corruptness, before the Lord." Can you imagine the pain in those words? The burden of knowing that future generations would stray, would stumble, would even succumb to darkness. It’s a stark reminder that even the most righteous lineage isn't immune to temptation, to the allure of the easy path.

And the story of Gad, one of Jacob's sons, offers a quiet, poignant counterpoint to this grand prophecy. After Jacob gave his final instructions to his sons, Gad, exhausted from life's journey, spoke his own final words. "My children, hearken unto your father, and bury me with my fathers." Simple, direct, a plea for continuity and connection to the past.

Then, the text says, "he drew up his feet, and slept in peace." There's a beautiful serenity in that image. A life lived, a duty fulfilled, and a peaceful surrender to the inevitable.

The story doesn't end there. After five years, his sons carried his remains to Hebron, to be buried with his forefathers. A final act of respect, of honoring his wishes, and of ensuring that he remained connected to his family and his history.

It’s a powerful reminder: Even amidst grand prophecies and anxieties about the future, the simple acts of love, respect, and remembrance hold profound meaning. The story of Jacob and Gad, with their intertwining narratives of hope and warning, invite us to consider our own legacy. What will we pass on to future generations? And how will we ensure that the values we hold dear endure, even when the path ahead seems uncertain?

Full source