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Mastema Attacked Moses, and the Coffin Waited Centuries

Zipporah already had the flint. Moses could not name what held his throat. Blood hit his feet, and the lodging place went still around the child.

Curated by Arthur · Told by Maggid ·
Table of Contents
  1. The Accuser at the Lodging Place
  2. Zipporah's Flint
  3. Serah Walked Him to the Nile
  4. Joseph, the Time Has Come
  5. Two Arks in the Sand

The lodging place had a door, a night, and not much else. Moses had come out of Midian with Zipporah and the boys, a staff in his hand, and the words from the bush still burning in his mouth. He had already lost a throne in Cush and sat at a well rather than walk back into Egypt. Now God had sent him into the empire that had raised him and then hunted him.

Mastema Attacked Moses, and the Coffin Waited Centuries Click for full size

He did not make it far.

Something met him on the road and tried to kill him.

The Accuser at the Lodging Place

Mastema, Prince of Accusation, had been watching. He had heard the voice at the bush. He understood what an Israelite walking toward Egypt could crack. He put his whole power into the strike, to slay Moses and deliver the Egyptians from the hand that had been sent against them.

The Torah writes the attack in two sentences and will not name the face (Exodus 4:24). God, or an angel acting in God's name, sought to kill him at the lodging place. Moses could not speak. The pressure sat on his throat like a court already in session.

Mastema had a brief. Moses had not circumcised his son. The covenant that bound Abraham's seed had not been cut into this child's body. An accuser can work with less. A man who had failed to mark his own house had no standing, Mastema argued, to carry covenant obligations into Pharaoh's court.

Zipporah did not wait for the argument to finish.

Zipporah's Flint

She took a flint. She cut their son. She touched the foreskin to Moses's feet and said the blood had done what it had to do. The threat withdrew. Mastema's case collapsed on a piece of skin and a mother's speed.

Moses stood. The road opened. Egypt still sat at the far end of it, brick and river and a king who would not know he had already lost.

Zipporah wiped the flint on her skirt and did not ask Moses to explain the attacker. She had closed a door heaven had left open. The boy cried. The lodging place went still. They walked on.

Serah Walked Him to the Nile

When the night of leaving finally came, another obligation rose out of the ground. Before Joseph died he had extracted an oath. When God remembered them, they would carry his bones out of Egypt. Do not leave me here. For four centuries that oath had been waiting in the river and in the dirt.

The camp filled its sacks with gold and silver, as God had commanded them to strip Egypt. Moses went looking for a coffin.

He hunted three days and three nights. The coffin was nowhere. His legs shook. Serah, daughter of Asher, found him emptied out and asked why he could barely stand. He told her. She did not offer comfort. She took him to the Nile.

The Egyptians had sunk a leaden coffin in the river, sealed on every side, at the urging of magicians who knew Israel could not leave without it. Honor for Joseph on the tongue. A chain on Israel in the water. Serah pointed at the place and told Moses what waited under the current.

Joseph, the Time Has Come

Moses stood on the bank and called into the river. "Joseph, the time has come. God is keeping the oath. Your descendants leave tonight. If you are willing, rise."

He threw a plate into the water and called again. The coffin did not move. He threw another. He threw a third. The river kept its dead. The fourth plate bore a human figure. The fourth call used Joseph's name the way a man uses a name he is done postponing.

The coffin floated.

Moses seized it and lifted. Lead and bone and four centuries of waiting came up into his arms while the rest of Israel carried jewelry. He bore it on his shoulder as if the oath had weight he could feel in the joint.

Two Arks in the Sand

Two arks would travel the desert together. The ark of the covenant with the Torah inside it, and the coffin of Joseph with the bones of a man who had made his people promise not to forget him. The living law and the faithful dead, side by side.

Mastema had tried to stop Moses before either obligation could be kept. The attack on the road was not random night-violence. It was a last attempt to find a legal flaw and void the redemption before it began. Zipporah shut that door with flint. Joseph's coffin shut another. Israel could not properly leave Egypt without the bones.

Moses had come from a well in Midian, from a throne he did not keep in Cush, from a lodging place where an accuser had him by the throat. He walked into the wilderness with a coffin on his shoulder and a people who still thought gold was the thing worth carrying out of a grave.


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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.

Book of Jubilees 48:5Book of Jubilees

Retold in our words. Read the original at the link below.Sefaria Community Translation · CC-BY

The familiar story is this: Moses leading the Israelites out of Egypt, the parting of the Red Sea, the giving of the Torah at Mount Sinai. Epic. But what about the moments before all that? The near misses?

The Book of Jubilees, a fascinating text from around the 2nd century BCE, gives us a peek behind the curtain. It fills in gaps and offers a unique perspective on familiar biblical narratives. And it tells us about a very close call for Moses.

Jubilees 48 opens with Moses's return to Egypt. It states, matter-of-factly: "And thou didst return into Egypt in the second week in the second year in the fiftieth jubilee." This chronological marker situates the event within the larger framework of Jubilees' unique calendrical system. Okay, helpful for placing it in time… but what happened?

That's where it gets interesting. God reminds Moses of a dangerous encounter on his way back to Egypt, an encounter many of us may have missed completely. "And thou thyself knowest what He spake unto thee on Mount Sinai, and what prince Mastêmâ desired to do with thee when thou wast returning into Egypt on the way when thou didst meet him at the lodging-place."

Mastêmâ? Who's that?

Well, Mastêmâ is a figure often associated with the Satan, the accuser or adversary. In Jubilees, he's a powerful, rebellious angel who seeks to thwart God's plans. And here, he's aiming to take out Moses.

The text continues, "Did he not with all his power seek to slay thee and deliver the Egyptians out of thy hand when he saw that thou wast sent to execute judgment and vengeance on the Egyptians?" Mastêmâ, seeing Moses as a threat to his agenda, tried to kill him. He wanted to prevent the Exodus, to keep the Israelites enslaved in Egypt. The stakes were incredibly high! This wasn’t just a personal attack; it was an attempt to derail God's entire plan for liberation.

What was Mastêmâ’s motivation? According to Jubilees, he saw Moses’s mission as a direct threat to his influence. He wanted to protect the Egyptians from the plagues and ultimately, maintain the status quo. He wanted to prevent the judgement and vengeance that was about to be unleashed.

Thankfully, the story doesn't end there. God intervened. "And I delivered thee out of his hand, and thou didst perform the signs and wonders which thou wast sent to perform in Egypt against Pharaoh, and against all his house, and against his servants and his people."

God protected Moses, allowing him to fulfill his mission. This passage highlights the constant struggle between good and evil, between God's will and the forces that oppose it. It shows us that even the greatest leaders face immense challenges and that divine intervention is sometimes necessary to overcome them.

About the battles we don't see. About the forces working against us, and the unseen hand that guides us through. The story of Moses and Mastêmâ reminds us that even in moments of great purpose, we may be facing opposition we don't even realize is there. And that sometimes, just sometimes, we need a little help from above.

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Legends of the Jews 1:493Legends 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 Moses Searched Three Days for Joseph's Sunken Coffin.

Moses knew something crucial: the Israelites couldn't truly be free until they fulfilled the oath they’d made to Joseph so long ago. That oath? To take his bones with them when they finally left Egypt for the Promised Land. (Genesis 50:25) But there was a problem. A big one.

For three whole days and three nights, Moses, the man who would lead his people out of bondage, searched high and low across the land of Egypt. He was desperately seeking Joseph’s coffin. According to Ginzberg’s retelling in Legends of the Jews, Moses knew that the Exodus couldn't happen without it. But it was nowhere to be found!

Can you picture Moses, exhausted, weary, his hope dwindling with each passing hour? Then, in his despair, he meets Serah, the daughter of Asher. She sees his distress and asks what troubles him. He tells her of his fruitless quest, his inability to locate Joseph's final resting place.

And here’s where the story takes a fascinating turn. Serah knows the secret. She leads Moses to the Nile River. There, she reveals that the Egyptians, in a desperate attempt to keep the Israelites from leaving, had sunk Joseph’s leaden coffin in the river.

But why the Nile? Why hide a coffin there?

Well, the Egyptians didn't act alone. They were aided and abetted by their magicians, those practitioners of ancient arts and secret knowledge. These magicians knew the power of Joseph's oath. They understood that the Israelites were bound to it. So, they used their magic – their kishuf, as it might have been called – to hide the coffin in a place where it seemed impossible to retrieve. They sealed the coffin on all sides and sank it deep within the river.

It’s a cunning plan. Trap the Israelites with their own promise. Keep them bound to Egypt forever. But as we know, the story doesn’t end there. How Moses manages to retrieve the coffin from the depths of the Nile is a story for another time! But the very fact that the Egyptians went to such lengths shows just how powerful a simple promise can be.

What does this tell us? Perhaps that even in the face of seemingly insurmountable obstacles, even when magic and power conspire against us, the bonds of faith and the weight of our promises can lead us on a quest, a search for something essential to our freedom. And sometimes, just sometimes, we need a little help from an unexpected source to find what we're looking for.

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Legends of the Jews 1:495Legends 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 story of Joseph, his coffin, and Moses is one such tale.

The scene: The Israelites are finally leaving Egypt, laden with riches they've received from their former oppressors. Gold, silver… a whirlwind of activity as they prepare for their long-awaited exodus. But amidst this frenzy, Moses has something else on his mind. Something incredibly important.

Joseph, centuries before, had made his brothers swear an oath. He knew his bones didn't belong in Egypt. “God will surely remember you,” he told them, “and carry you out of this land to the land which He swore to Abraham, to Isaac, and to Jacob.” (Genesis 50:25). He wanted to be buried in the Promised Land. This was no small request; it was a sacred trust.

So, how do you find a coffin lost in the vastness of the Nile? Well, according to the legends, it wasn't easy. The Zohar, that foundational text of Jewish mysticism, hints at the magical means employed. Moses didn't just stumble upon it. He had to work for it.

The story goes that Moses fashioned several golden plates, each bearing a different symbol. The first had the figure of an eagle. He threw it into the water, calling upon Joseph to rise. Nothing. Then a plate with the figure of a bull. Again, silence. A third plate followed. Still, the coffin remained stubbornly submerged.

It wasn't until the fourth plate, the one bearing the image of a human, that something finally happened. With this plate and the fourth invocation, Joseph’s coffin floated to the surface! Moses, overcome with joy, seized it. Ginzberg, in his Legends of the Jews, tells us that while the rest of Israel were busy gathering their newfound wealth, Moses was solely focused on fulfilling Joseph’s wish.

Why this elaborate ritual? Why these specific symbols? We can only speculate. Perhaps the symbols represented different aspects of the Egyptian world, and only the human symbol resonated with Joseph's spirit, his connection to his people. Or maybe, as we find in Midrash Rabbah, it was a test of Moses's faith and dedication.

The tale emphasizes a powerful message: Keeping promises, especially to the deceased, is a sacred act. It speaks to the enduring power of memory, loyalty, and the importance of honoring our commitments, no matter the obstacles.

What promises are we holding onto? What commitments are we striving to fulfill, even when they seem difficult or inconvenient? Perhaps the story of Moses and Joseph’s coffin can inspire us to reflect on the enduring power of our word.

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Jasher 76Book of Jasher

Retold in our words. Read the original at the link below.The Book of Jasher, J. H. Parry edition (1887) · Public Domain

Chapter 76 opens with Moses reigning as king in Cush, apparently thriving and ruling with justice for forty years! According to Jasher, "all the children of Cush loved Moses… and all the inhabitants of the land… were greatly afraid of him." Sounds like a good king. But trouble was brewing. Queen Adoniah, wife of the previous king, stirred things up. She pointed out the obvious: Moses hadn't exactly embraced Cushite culture, nor had he shown her any…ahem…kingly attention. "For forty years," she declares, "this man has not approached me, nor has he served the gods of the children of Cush." Ouch. Double

Adoniah argued that her son, Menacrus, would be a much better fit. And wouldn’t you know it, the people listened. So, after forty years of rule, the Cushites replaced Moses with Menacrus.

Get this: The people of Cush were afraid to harm Moses, because "the Lord was with Moses." Plus, they remembered the oath they’d sworn to him. So, instead of a coup, they sent him off with presents and great honor! It sounds almost…civilized.

The Book of Jasher says this was all part of God’s plan. "The thing was from the Lord," the text explains, "for the period had arrived which he had appointed in the days of old, to bring forth Israel from the affliction of the children of Ham." It was time for Moses to move on to his true destiny.

So, where does a former king go? Midian, apparently. Fearing to return to Egypt because of Pharaoh, Moses ends up at a well, where he encounters the seven daughters of Reuel, a Midianite priest. Some shepherds were giving them trouble, and good ol’ Moses steps in, helps them water their flock, and earns himself an invitation to their home.

He tells Reuel about his adventures in Egypt and Cush. Reuel, being the cautious type, decides to throw Moses in prison, thinking it would curry favor with the Cushites. Talk about gratitude!

But wait, there's more! Moses spends ten years in the slammer. The only bright spot? Reuel’s daughter, Zipporah, takes pity on him and secretly provides him with food and water. This is, of course, the Zipporah who later becomes Moses' wife. So, prison wasn’t all bad, I guess.

Meanwhile, back in Egypt, things are going from bad to worse for the Israelites. The Book of Jasher emphasizes the severity of their suffering. Pharaoh, you see, has come down with a nasty case of leprosy, "from the sole of his foot to the crown of his head," as the text vividly puts it.

His wise men suggest a truly horrific cure: the blood of little children. Pharaoh, in his desperation, agrees. A staggering 375 Israelite children were murdered for this macabre experiment.

But, surprise, surprise, it doesn't work. God doesn't listen to the physicians of Pharaoh, and the plague only gets worse. For ten years, Pharaoh suffers, and then things really escalate. He gets tumors, stomach sickness, and boils.

His ministers report that the Israelites are slacking off at work, likely due to Pharaoh’s illness. Enraged, Pharaoh decides to go see for himself. But on the way, his horse falls, the chariot overturns, and Pharaoh is severely injured. The text is quite graphic: "The flesh of the king was torn from him, and his bones were broken."

Knowing his end is near, Pharaoh appoints his son Adikam as his successor. The Book of Jasher makes a point of describing Adikam as "cunning and wise" but also "of unseemly aspect, thick in flesh, and very short in stature; his height was one cubit." You can almost picture him, can't you?

Pharaoh dies "in shame, disgrace, and disgust," and is buried without the usual embalming because his flesh was so putrid. The Book of Jasher is clear: this was divine retribution for his cruelty to the Israelites. "For the Lord had requited him evil for the evil which in his days he had done to Israel."

So, there you have it. Moses’ unlikely reign in Cush, his stint in a Midianite prison, and the gruesome demise of Pharaoh. The stage is now set for the Exodus. The Book of Jasher gives us a glimpse into the backstory, filling in the gaps and reminding us that even before the burning bush, Moses' life was anything but ordinary. It makes you wonder: what seemingly random events in our lives are actually part of a larger plan?

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