Parshat Bereshit5 min read

The Moon Asked Whether Two Kings Can Wear One Crown

She went up to complain about sharing the sky and came back down smaller. Every month since, Israel burns a goat for a sin God says is His.

Curated by Arthur · Told by Maggid ·
Table of Contents
  1. I Am Greater Than You
  2. Two Kings and One Crown
  3. She Would Not Shrink Herself
  4. Bring an Atonement for Me
  5. The Sun Bows in the West
The Moon Asked Whether Two Kings Can Wear One Crown Click for full size

I Am Greater Than You

On the fourth day God hung two lamps in the sky, the same size, the same shape, the same light, and for twenty-one years less six hundred and seventy-two parts of an hour nobody on earth could have told you which one was in charge.

Then they started quarreling. One said to the other, "I am greater than you."

They had a great deal to be proud of. Three letters of the unspeakable Name are written on the heart of the sun, and angels walk it across the sky, one shift by day and a different shift by night. It comes out in the morning in a chariot, crowned, like a bridegroom coming out from under the canopy. The moon travels between two banks of cloud stacked like two dishes, one over the other, and leans out from between them at the start of every month with one horn showing.

Two Kings and One Crown

The moon took the argument upstairs.

"Master of the Universe. Is it possible for two kings to wear one crown?"

"Go and make yourself smaller."

She had not seen that coming. "Master of the Universe. I said a decent thing to You. For saying a decent thing I have to shrink?"

"Go and rule by day and by night both."

"What is that worth? A lamp at noon does nothing for anybody."

"Go, then. Israel will count its days and its years by you."

"They cannot help counting the seasons by the sun as well. It is written that both are for signs and for seasons and for days and years."

"Then let the righteous be called by your name. Jacob the Small. Samuel the Small. David the Small."

She Would Not Shrink Herself

She refused to do it with her own hands. Whatever else she was willing to accept, she would not stand in the sky and diminish herself to order, and God rebuked her, and she fell.

The other telling puts a crime under it. The moon carried a false report against the sun, went up to the judgment seat with a lie about her equal, and was cut down for it. Either way the sentence came out the same. The sun stayed the size it was made and was given the day to rule. The moon was made the lesser light and given the night, and the stars were handed over with it, so that she would never again cross the sky without a crowd of smaller lights around her.

Bring an Atonement for Me

God looked at her afterward and saw that her mind was not settled.

So He said, in front of the whole court, "Bring an offering for Me. I made the moon smaller."

That is why the goat brought at the head of every month is the one sin offering the Torah marks out as being for the Lord. Israel drags a goat up to the altar on the first of the month for a sin that no Israelite committed, on behalf of a light that argued in the sky before there were any people, and the smoke goes up for a wrong the Judge admits He did.

The new moon comes around again twelve times a year. The goat goes up. The horn of light leans out from between its two clouds, one part on the first night, another part on the second, until by the middle of the month she is full and the clouds turn east and begin covering her again from the same edge they uncovered first.

The Sun Bows in the West

The sun has its own end-of-day business.

It comes up in the east and goes down opposite, in the west, and the Shechinah (שכינה), the divine presence, is always in the west. So every evening the sun walks into that presence and bows to the King of kings and reports.

"Master of the universe. I have done everything You commanded."

Then it goes out. In summer it turns its rays and its burning face on the earth and would set the whole thing alight if the ice above did not hold the heat back. In winter it turns its cold face down and the world would not survive that either, except that the fire warms the cold. It has never once been asked to make itself smaller.

The moon comes up behind it, and the stars come up with her, and once a month a goat burns on an altar in Jerusalem because the argument was never settled, only ended.


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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.

Targum Pseudo-Jonathan on Genesis 1:16Targum Pseudo-Jonathan on Genesis

Retold in our words. Read the original at the link below.The Targum of Jonathan ben Uzziel, trans. J. W. Etheridge, London, 1862 · Public Domain

This is one of the strangest moments in Targum Pseudo-Jonathan's creation story. And one of its most famous. The Torah simply says God made "two great lights." The Targum on (Genesis 1:16) tells us they were originally equal. Exactly equal.

The sun and the moon ruled the sky together for twenty-one years, "less six hundred and two and seventy parts of an hour." The Targumist is showing his math. Two lights, identical in glory, sharing heaven.

Then something broke. "The moon recited against the sun a false report." A slander. A whisper. The Aramaic does not specify what was said, only that the moon lied. And for that sin of speech, the moon was diminished. She shrank. The sun became the greater light, ruling the day. The moon became the lesser, ruling the night, and the stars were given to her as a kind of consolation prize, a softening of the verdict.

What this says about lashon hara

Jewish tradition takes evil speech, lashon hara, extraordinarily seriously. Here, in the fourth day of creation, the first recorded sin in the universe is not murder. It is not theft. It is slander, spoken by one luminary against another. And the punishment is immediate and permanent. The moon is never restored to equality.

This is the Targumist's warning, smuggled into cosmology. Speech has consequences strong enough to rearrange the sky. When the sages later teach that a destructive word can never be fully recalled, they are echoing this moment: a tongue cost the moon her glory, and the night is darker for it.

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Targum Jonathan on Genesis 1Targum Jonathan

Retold in our words. Read the original at the link below.The Targum of Jonathan ben Uzziel, trans. J. W. Etheridge, London, 1862 · Public Domain

The Hebrew Bible opens with a spare, magnificent account of creation in seven days. The Targum Jonathan, an ancient Aramaic translation composed between the 2nd and 7th centuries CE, retells the same story but slips in details that transform the theology entirely.

Take the most dramatic change. (Genesis 1:16) says God made "two great lights" and leaves it at that. The Targum tells a completely different story. It says the sun and moon were originally equal in glory for exactly twenty-one years, minus 672 parts of an hour. Then the moon "recited against the sun a false report" and was punished by being diminished. The sun got promoted to the greater light. The moon got demoted. This is not translation. This is a cosmic courtroom drama inserted into the creation account, and it mirrors the Talmudic tradition in Chullin 60b where the moon complains to God and gets shrunk for her arrogance.

Then there is the question Genesis never answers directly. When God says "Let us make man" (Genesis 1:26), who is "us"? The Hebrew is ambiguous and has generated centuries of debate. The Targum settles it outright. God speaks "to the angels who ministered before Him, who had been created in the second day of the creation of the world." The angels were made on Day Two. The plural "us" is God consulting His angelic court, not a royal "we."

The Targum also adds that Adam was created with exactly 248 limbs and 365 sinews, numbers that later rabbinic tradition connects to the 248 positive commandments and 365 negative commandments of the Torah. The human body literally embodies the law.

Even the sea creatures get upgraded. Where Genesis mentions "great sea creatures," the Targum names them as the Leviathan and his mate, "prepared for the day of consolation," a reference to the messianic banquet where the righteous will feast on Leviathan's flesh. Every animal was also classified as clean or unclean from the moment of creation, centuries before Moses received the dietary laws at Sinai. The Targum retrofits the entire Torah into the first week of existence.

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Chullin 60bTalmud Bavli, Chullin

Translation of the source text.William Davidson Edition - Vocalized Aramaic · CC-BY-NC

Rabbi Shimon ben Pazi raised a contradiction: It is written (Genesis 1:16) "And God made the two great lights," and it is written (in the same verse) "the greater light and the lesser light." The moon said before the Holy One, blessed be He: Master of the Universe, is it possible for two kings to make use of one crown? He said to her: Go and diminish yourself.

She said before Him: Master of the Universe, because I said a fitting thing before You, shall I diminish myself? He said to her: Go and rule both by day and by night. She said to Him: What is the greatness in that? Of what use is a lamp at noon? He said to her: Go, let Israel count by you the days and the years. She said to Him: It is impossible for them not to count the seasons by the day as well, as it is written (Genesis 1:14): "And they shall be for signs and for appointed times and for days and years." He said: Go, let the righteous be called by your name: "Jacob the small," "Samuel the small," "David the small."

He saw that her mind was not settled. The Holy One, blessed be He, said: Bring an atonement for Me, for I diminished the moon! And this is what Rabbi Shimon ben Lakish said: Why is the goat-offering of the New Moon different, in that it is said concerning it (Numbers 28:15) "for the LORD"? The Holy One, blessed be He, said: Let this goat be an atonement for Me, for I diminished the moon.

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Chronicles of Jerahmeel IIChronicles of Jerahmeel (Gaster, 1899)

Retold in our words. Read the original at the link below.The Chronicles of Jerahmeel, trans. Moses Gaster (1899) · Public Domain

On the third day of creation, the earth was a flat, featureless plain submerged under water. Then God spoke. Mountains erupted upward and scattered across the surface. Valleys tore open in the earth's interior, and the waters rushed down to fill them. According to the Chronicles of Jerahmeel, a 12th-century Hebrew chronicle compiled by Jerahmeel ben Solomon, the waters immediately rebelled. They surged back up, flooding the earth a second time, until God rebuked them and measured them in the hollow of His palm.

He fenced the sea with sand, the way a farmer fences a vineyard. When the waves approach and see the barrier, they retreat. The earth itself floats upon the deep waters "like a ship in the midst of the sea." Beneath its surface, the depths plunge sixty years' walking distance downward. One fountain near Gehinnom (the place of spiritual purification after death) produces hot springs that delight anyone who bathes in them.

On the fourth day, God formed two lights. They were identical in size and brightness. Then they quarreled. Each one insisted it was greater than the other. To settle the dispute, God enlarged one and diminished the other. The sun became the great light, ruling by day. The moon became the lesser.

The sun rides through the sky in a chariot, crowned like a bridegroom. Angels guide it, with separate crews for day and night shifts. Three letters of the Ineffable Name are inscribed on the sun's heart. Each evening, it enters the west, where the Shekinah (שכינה), the Divine Presence, permanently resides, and bows before the King of Kings, saying, "I have fulfilled all Your commands."

The moon, by contrast, travels hidden between two clouds like dishes stacked one above the other. Each night of the new month, a sliver more appears, until it reaches fullness at the middle of the month. Then the clouds slowly swallow it again from the opposite side.

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Pirkei DeRabbi Eliezer 51:6Pirkei 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

It seems so constant, so familiar. But Jewish tradition, specifically in Pirkei DeRabbi Eliezer, a fascinating collection of stories and interpretations, offers a surprising, even poignant, explanation for why we offer a special sacrifice on the New Moon, or Rosh Chodesh.

The passage begins with a question posed by Rabbi Zechariah: After the Torah mentions the regular burnt offerings for each month, why does it then specify "And one he-goat for a sin offering unto the Lord" (Num. 28:15)? What's the deal with this extra sin offering?

When God created the world, the Torah tells us, "And God made the two great lights" (Gen. 1:16). Now, according to Pirkei DeRabbi Eliezer, these two lights were initially equal in size and brilliance. Both the sun and the moon were meant to shine with the same intensity. A world where the night was nearly as bright as the day.

The moon, in this telling, wasn't happy with the divine plan. It "obstinately refused to do the will of its Creator so as to be made smaller." The moon, didn't want to share the spotlight. It wanted to be just as important, just as luminous, as the sun.

So, what happened? Well, God, in response to the moon's…let's call it "attitude," diminished its light. This is why the moon we see today is smaller and fainter than the sun.

But here's the really striking part. Because of this, because God diminished the moon, Israel offers a he-goat as a sin offering on the New Moon. The text specifies the offering is made "unto the Lord." But what does that mean?

The text concludes with this powerful statement: "The Holy One, blessed be He, said: This he-goat shall be an atonement for Me, because I have diminished the (size of the) moon." This sin offering isn't just for the moon's "sin" of pride. It's also, in a way, for God. God, according to this tradition, feels a sense of…remorse? Responsibility?…for diminishing the moon. This offering is an act of cosmic repair, a way of acknowledging that even divine actions can have unintended consequences.

That God would seek atonement for an action taken in the creation of the universe. It speaks to a profound sense of divine empathy and a recognition that even the most powerful being isn't immune to the complexities of relationship and consequence. Next time you look at the moon, remember this story. It's not just a celestial body; it's a reminder of humility, responsibility, and the ongoing work of cosmic repair.

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