5 min read

Luz, the City Where Death Could Not Enter

Rabbinic legend describes a city outside the Angel of Death's jurisdiction, built where Jacob slept, guarded by a bone that cannot be destroyed.

Curated by Arthur · Told by Maggid ·
Table of Contents
  1. The Gate at the Edge of the City
  2. Why Jacob Slept There
  3. Solomon's Scribes and the Attempt to Flee
  4. The Bone That Outlasts the Body

The Gate at the Edge of the City

Luz looked like any other city from a distance. It had gates and roads and records and people who had lived there long enough to know their neighbors by name. But when you looked at the histories kept inside Luz, you noticed the absence. No war. No plague. No famine. No deaths.

The Angel of Death could not enter.

This was not a matter of holiness exactly. The Babylonian Talmud, in Tractate Sotah 46b, gives the precise mechanism: the almond tree. The entrance to Luz was concealed inside a hollow almond tree. You had to pass through the tree to reach the city, and the tree stood outside the city's boundary. The Angel of Death stopped at the boundary. He did not go inside.

The people of Luz who wanted to die had to leave. They walked out through the almond tree when they grew tired of living, past the city's edge, and then they died. The Angel was waiting for them in the open air.

Why Jacob Slept There

The city sat on the ground where Jacob stopped for the night with a stone under his head and dreamed of a ladder stretching between earth and heaven. When he woke and named the place Bethel, the house of God, he was standing in what would become Luz. The holiness that descended on the spot when God spoke to Jacob did not lift when Jacob walked on. It stayed in the soil. The Angel of Death read the place as consecrated ground and did not cross into it.

Ginzberg's Legends of the Jews, compiled from 1909 to 1938, preserves the tradition that Jacob's dream made Luz permanently sacred, and that the almond tree marking its entrance was the living border between the world where death could operate and the world where it could not.

Solomon's Scribes and the Attempt to Flee

Solomon understood Luz. The wisest king in the world knew where the Angel of Death could not go, and when the angel came for two of his scribes, Solomon sent them there.

The scribes were Elihoreph and Ahijah, the sons of Shisha. They were the keepers of Solomon's kingdom's records. One morning Solomon looked at the Angel of Death and noticed something was wrong. The angel's face showed trouble. Not regret, which would have been unusual enough, but something stranger: disappointed expectation. The king asked him what he was looking for. The angel named the scribes.

Solomon sent them to Luz immediately. They left the palace and traveled through the almond tree's hollow and into the city where the Angel could not follow. Solomon assumed he had won.

The next morning the Angel of Death appeared in the palace looking satisfied. "Where were they?" Solomon asked. "At the gates of Luz," the angel answered. He had not entered the city. He had waited at its gate, and when the scribes walked out of the protected boundary to greet the morning, he had taken them there. Solomon had solved the problem of death by sending his scribes to its exact location at the exact moment they were expected.

The Bone That Outlasts the Body

Luz also gives its name to a bone. Rabbi Joshua ben Chanania, speaking with the Roman emperor Hadrian, was asked the question that every sage of his era was eventually asked by Rome: from what material will the dead be resurrected? If the body decays entirely, what remains to rebuild?

Rabbi Joshua said: "the Luz." A small bone at the base of the spine, the size of an almond, in the tradition shaped like the almond the city was named for. It cannot be ground by millstones. It cannot be burned by fire. It cannot be dissolved in water. He proved it to the emperor by attempting to destroy one. Nothing worked.

The bone was the seed. Every human body would be rebuilt at the resurrection from that indestructible piece, the way a plant grows from a seed. It was also, in the tradition, the bone protected by the Luz of Jacob, the city consecrated by the patriarch's dream. The almond-shaped bone and the almond-tree entrance and the city where death stops at the gate are all one image: the indestructible remnant that outlasts everything trying to destroy it.


← All myths

From the tradition

Sources

6 sources

The texts this telling draws on, in full. Open a card to read inline, or expand it for a wider, quieter read.

Sotah 46bTalmud Bavli, Sotah

"And the man went to the land of the Hittites and built a city, and called its name Luz; that is its name to this day" (Judges 1:26). It was taught in a baraita: This is the Luz in which they dye the sky-blue dye; this is the Luz against which Sennacherib came and did not throw it into confusion, and which Nebuchadnezzar came against and did not destroy; and even the Angel of Death has no permission to pass through it. Rather, the elders who are in it, when their mind becomes weary of them, go outside the wall, and there they die.

And are these matters not derived through an a fortiori inference? If this Canaanite, who did not speak with his mouth and did not walk with his feet, nonetheless brought about deliverance for himself and for his descendants until the end of all generations, then one who performs an act of escort with his feet, all the more so.

Full source
Legends of the Jews 5:148Legends of the Jews

King Solomon, the wisest of all men, certainly tried. And the story of his scribes, Elihoreph and Ahijah, is a fascinating, if ultimately sobering, tale about just that.

These weren't just any scribes. Elihoreph and Ahijah, sons of Shisha, were the scribes, the keepers of Solomon's vast kingdom's records. But their story, as told in Ginzberg's Legends of the Jews, takes a rather…unusual turn.

One day, Solomon noticed something was amiss. The Angel of Death, that grim messenger, looked troubled, burdened by a task. Naturally, Solomon, ever curious and insightful, inquired what was wrong.

The Angel revealed his mission: he was charged with bringing Solomon's two scribes, Elihoreph and Ahijah, to the next world. Solomon, being Solomon, wasn't too keen on this plan. He valued his scribes, and perhaps, just perhaps, thought he could outwit destiny itself.

So, Solomon hatched a plan. He commanded the demons – yes, demons – to transport Elihoreph and Ahijah to Luz. Now, Luz was no ordinary city. Legend held it was a place where the Angel of Death held no sway, a sanctuary from mortality itself. Quite the loophole. In a flash, the demons whisked the scribes away to Luz. But here's the twist, the part that makes you really stop and think: Elihoreph and Ahijah died the very instant they reached the gates of Luz. Despite all of Solomon's careful planning, all his power, all his influence, it was for naught.

The next day, the Angel of Death returned to Solomon, this time wearing a smile. He cheerfully declared, "Thou didst transport those two men to the very spot in which I wanted them!"

It turns out, their destined fate was to die specifically at the gates of Luz. The Angel of Death had been struggling to figure out how to get them there, and Solomon, in his attempt to cheat death, had inadvertently played right into its hands.

What does this all mean? The story, found within Legends of the Jews, based on various Midrashic (rabbinic interpretive commentary) sources, including potentially some lost to us now, serves as a potent reminder. We can strive, we can plan, we can even command demons (if you happen to be King Solomon, that is!), but sometimes, destiny has a way of unfolding regardless. It's a humbling thought, isn't it? A reminder that even the wisest of kings couldn't escape the inevitable.

Full source
Kohelet Rabbah 12:5Hebraic Literature (1901)

The Roman emperor Hadrian (may his bones be ground, the rabbis add in a growl) was fond of cornering Jewish sages with theological questions. One day he turned to Rabbi Joshua ben Chanania and asked the classic one.

From what, he said, will the human frame be reconstructed at the resurrection of the dead? If the body decays entirely, what is there left to rebuild?

Rabbi Joshua had an answer ready. From the Luz, he said. A small bone in the backbone, the size of an almond. It is the seed bone. Every bone of the body will grow from it when the time of resurrection comes.

Prove it, said Hadrian.

The rabbi was happy to. He took a Luz bone and dropped it into water. It did not soften. He put it in fire. It did not burn. He put it in a mill and set the stones turning. It could not be pounded. He laid it on an anvil and struck it with a hammer. The anvil split and the hammer shattered, but the Luz bone sat there whole.

That, said Rabbi Joshua, is how God can rebuild a human being. He hides an indestructible seed in the spine, and at the right moment He waters it.

This teaching from Midrash Kohelet Rabbah 12:5, referenced also in the Zohar (Genesis 206), preserved in Hebraic Literature (1901), is the rabbinic answer to the riddle of bodily resurrection. Somewhere in you, they insisted, is a piece that even fire cannot touch.

Full source
Alphabet of Ben Sira 45Alphabet of Ben Sira

Jewish tradition holds that a handful of people never died. They walked into Gan Eden - the Garden of Eden - while still alive, bypassing death entirely. The Alphabet of Ben Sira, composed between 700 and 1000 CE, gives us the most complete list of these extraordinary figures and explains why each one earned this reward.

Enoch entered because he was the most righteous person of his generation. Eliezer, Abraham's servant, entered because despite being a descendant of the cursed line of Ham, he gave himself over to Abraham's service and became righteous. Serach bat Asher entered because she was the one who told Jacob that his son Joseph was still alive - and Jacob blessed her that her mouth, which brought him such joy, would never taste death. Bitya bat Pharaoh, the Egyptian princess who raised Moses, entered so that no one could say her goodness went unrewarded. Eved-Melech the Ethiopian entered because he saved the prophet Jeremiah from a muddy pit. Yabetz entered for being the most righteous of his entire generation.

The most dramatic story belongs to Rabbi Yehoshua ben Levi. He convinced the Angel of Death to give him a tour of the Garden's entrance. But first, he asked to hold the angel's sword - for safety. The Angel of Death agreed. The moment they reached the gate, Rabbi Yehoshua jumped over the wall and landed inside. He was in. The Angel of Death screamed so loudly he nearly destroyed the world, but God calmed him. Rabbi Yehoshua kept the sword for seven years before God finally made him return it.

Hiram, King of Tyre, entered for building the Temple - but his story has a twist. After a thousand years in paradise, he grew arrogant and declared himself a god, as described in (Ezekiel 28:2). He was expelled from Gan Eden and cast into Gehennom instead.

The strangest immortal is Malchas the Bird. When Eve ate from the Tree of Knowledge, she fed the fruit to every creature. But Malchas refused: "Isn't it enough that you sinned? Now you come to make me sin too?" A heavenly voice declared that Malchas and all his descendants would never taste death. The text also explains why the eagle flies highest of all birds - after being punished and cast into a lions' den for trying to eat another bird upon leaving the Ark, the eagle was eventually rescued and given divine protection, soaring above all other creatures so its enemies could never reach it.

Full source
Yalkut Shimoni on Nach 38:5Yalkut Shimoni on Nach

"And the watchers saw a man coming out of the city" (Judges 1:24). Rabbi Meir used to say: one compels a person to escort a departing guest, for the reward of escorting has no fixed measure, as it is said, "And the watchers saw a man coming out of the city, and they said to him: Show us, we pray, the entrance to the city, and we will deal kindly with you," and it is written, "And he showed them the entrance to the city" (Judges 1:24-25). How did he show them? Hezekiah said: he twisted his mouth toward it for them. But Rabbi Yochanan said: he pointed it out with his finger; and a baraita was taught in accordance with Rabbi Yochanan. And what kindness did they do for him? That whole city they put to the sword, but that man and his family they sent away. "And the man went to the land of the Hittites and built a city and called its name Luz; that is its name to this day" (Judges 1:26). It was taught: this is the Luz where they dye sky-blue [tekhelet]. This is the Luz that Sennacherib came and did not throw into confusion, that Nebuchadnezzar came and did not destroy. And even the Angel of Death has no permission within it; rather, when its elders grow weary of life, they go outside the wall and there they die. Now is this not an argument from the lesser to the greater [a fortiori]? If this Canaanite, who neither spoke with his mouth nor walked with his feet, brought about deliverance for himself and his offspring to the end of all generations, then one who performs the escorting of a guest fully, with his mouth and his feet, how much more so! Rabbi Joshua said: whoever walks on the road and has no one to escort him should occupy himself with Torah, as it is said, "For they shall be a graceful garland [livyat chen, also "escort of grace"] for your head" (Proverbs 1:9).

Full source
Yalkut Shimoni on Nach 38:6Yalkut Shimoni on Nach

Rabbi Abba bar Kahana said: why was its name called Luz? Because everyone who entered it sprouted commandments and good deeds like an almond tree [luz]. The rabbis said: just as a luz [almond, or hazelnut] has no opening, so no person could find the opening to the city's gate. Rabbi Ishmael says: a luz tree stood at the entrance of the city. Rabbi Elazar in the name of Rabbi Pinchas says: a luz tree stood at the entrance of a cave, and the luz was hollow, and they would enter through the luz into the cave and through the cave into the city, as it is written, "Show me, I pray, the entrance to the city" (Judges 1:25).

Full source