Parshat Shemot4 min read

The Child Moses Grabbed the Crown and an Angel Moved His Hand

A three-year-old boy grabbed the crown off Pharaoh's head. A sorcerer wanted him killed. What happened next is one of the strangest tests in midrash.

Curated by Arthur · Told by Maggid ·
Table of Contents
  1. The Boy on the Princess's Lap
  2. The Test With the Coal and the Gold
  3. What the Burn Left Behind
  4. Two Brothers Who Reported the Grown Man

The Boy on the Princess's Lap

The scene is ordinary enough to begin with. The princess has brought the Hebrew child to her father's table. Pharaoh sits next to her, his crown on his head, eating. The child is three years old. Children that age reach for glittering things. The child reaches, gets the crown, and puts it on his own head.

The Book of Jasher, the ancient Hebrew chronicle cited twice in the Hebrew Bible (Joshua 10:13, 2 Samuel 1:18) and preserved in later medieval transmission, has the detail exact: the child reached for the crown at the table and placed it on his head. A sorcerer in the room saw it and had a reaction. He read the gesture as prophetic. He demanded that the child be executed on the spot, because what the child had done was not childish accident, it was prefigurement.

The Test With the Coal and the Gold

Pharaoh did not immediately agree to the execution. He asked his advisors. The counsel he received was a test. Two bowls were placed before the child: one filled with gold and jewels, one filled with burning coals. If the child reached for the gold, it would prove he understood what he was doing, that the crown-grabbing had been intentional, and he would be killed. If he reached for the coals, it would prove he was simply a child following his hands, and he would be spared.

The traditions preserved in the Legends of the Jews say that as the child reached toward the gold, as his hand moved in the direction of the wealth and power, the angel Gabriel redirected it. The hand that had been reaching for gold was moved to the coals. The child grabbed a coal and put it to his lips. His tongue was burned. He was spared.

What the Burn Left Behind

Moses grew up with the speech impediment that came from that coal. He would later say to God, I am not a man of words... for I am heavy of mouth and heavy of tongue (Exodus 4:10). The rabbis connected the heaviness of tongue to the coal. The test that saved his life when he was three years old left a permanent mark on the man who would stand before Pharaoh fifty years later and demand the release of an entire people.

The midrash does not present this as tragic. It presents it as part of the formation. The man who negotiated the Exodus was a man whose speech had been shaped by fire from the beginning, whose mouth carried the memory of the test that had determined whether he would live. He had reason to distrust his own tongue. He had reason to depend on something other than eloquence.

Two Brothers Who Reported the Grown Man

Decades passed. Moses grew up in the palace and eventually left it. When the call to return came, he faced a more adult version of the same problem he had faced as a three-year-old: people reading his motives as threatening. The Legends of the Jews records two jealous brothers who went to Pharaoh with a report. Moses, they said, was disrespecting the royal dignity. He was undermining what Pharaoh represented.

Moses had argued against himself to God: I a prophet and the son of a prophet obeyed Your words only after much hesitation, and I cannot expect Pharaoh, a wicked man and the son of a wicked man, to give ear to my words (Legends of the Jews). He knew from the coal-test forward that he was not a man whose mouth would carry him through. He had been saved as a child by an angel redirecting his hand. He had been marked by the coal. He went back to Egypt carrying both of those facts about himself.

MosesPharaohGabrielEgyptExodusMidrash
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From the tradition

Sources

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

Sefer ha-YasharBook of Jasher

After Pharaoh's daughter discovered the infant Moses nestled among the bulrushes, she brought him back to the palace. She presented him to her father, claiming that the Nile itself had gifted her the child. And so, because it was the princess’s wish, Pharaoh and his court accepted the baby into their home. But, as the Sefer ha-Yashar and other sources tell us, not everyone was convinced of the child's blessed origins.

One of Pharaoh's sorcerers, harboring suspicions that the child was Hebrew, secretly plotted against him. He waited, patiently, for an opportunity to expose the truth. That moment arrived when Moses was just three years old.

The scene: little Moses is sitting on his (adoptive) mother’s lap at the table. Pharaoh sits next to her, his crown gleaming. Drawn to the glittering gems, Moses reaches out and knocks the crown right off Pharaoh's head! Can you feel the tension?

The sorcerer seized the moment. "Do not ignore this sign from fate, my lord!" he exclaimed. "This child may be destined to usurp your throne!"

Pharaoh, understandably alarmed, consulted his advisors. But little did he know, the angel Gabriel, sent by God to protect Moses, was already at work. Disguised as one of Pharaoh's counselors, Gabriel offered a seemingly reasonable solution.

"Surely the child meant no evil," he said. "Why not test him? Present him with two bowls: one filled with precious jewels, the other with burning coals. If he reaches for the jewels, it proves his understanding. But if he grabs the coals, it shows he's just an innocent infant."

Pharaoh agreed, and the test was set. As the bowls were placed before Moses, the invisible Gabriel stood close. Moses, naturally drawn to the sparkling jewels, reached for them. But Gabriel intervened, guiding his hand towards the burning coals instead.

Before Moses could even register the heat, he touched a coal to his tongue, singeing it. He burst into tears, solidifying the perception that he was just a baby. Pharaoh, reassured, allowed Moses to remain in the palace.

But the story doesn’t end there. As Midrash Rabbah and other sources recount, that brief encounter with the burning coal left Moses with a speech impediment, a stutter that would stay with him for the rest of his life. This, the tradition explains, is why Moses later enlisted his brother, Aaron, to speak on his behalf when he stood before Pharaoh to demand the release of the Israelites.

Isn’t it amazing how even a seemingly small event, like a child's innocent curiosity, can shape the course of history? This midrash (a traditional Jewish story that explains or interprets a biblical text) offers us a glimpse into the interplay of fate, divine intervention, and the making of a leader. It also reminds us that even our perceived weaknesses, like Moses' stutter, can ultimately be woven into our strengths. This, as the commentary suggests, is a perfect story for children because it speaks to their understanding of simple cause and effect. A bright jewel would be more attractive to an infant than a burning coal.

So, the next time you think about Moses, remember this story. Remember the burning coals, the quick thinking of an angel, and the unexpected way in which a future leader was shaped. What parts of your life that you've always seen as weaknesses could actually be strengths?

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Legends of the Jews 4:87Legends of the Jews

It is often remembered as a commandment straight from Mount Sinai, a divine decree etched in stone. And it is. But the story, as it often does in Jewish tradition, has layers and nuances that make it all the more compelling.

In Ginzberg’s retelling in, Legends of the Jews, Moses, even before the Exodus, was already working to ease the suffering of his people. Imagine him, a man raised in Pharaoh's court, returning to his roots, witnessing the brutal conditions endured by the Hebrew slaves. It must have been heartbreaking.

He saw how the constant labor was grinding them down, stealing their strength and their spirit. So, Moses, ever the advocate, approached Pharaoh. "O my lord," he began, "I have a request to make of thee, and my hope is that thou wilt not deny it."

Pharaoh, intrigued, gave him permission to speak. And what Moses said was brilliant in its simplicity and undeniable logic. "It is an admitted fact," he argued, "that if a slave is not afforded rest at least one day in the week, he will die of overexertion. Thy Hebrew slaves will surely perish, unless thou accordest them a day of cessation from work."

Think about the power of that statement. Moses wasn't just appealing to Pharaoh's compassion (though, perhaps he hoped for that too). He was appealing to his self-interest. Dead slaves are of no use to anyone.

And Pharaoh, surprisingly, listened! He granted Moses' request. An edict was issued throughout Egypt and Goshen: "To the sons of Israel! Thus saith the king: Do your work and perform your service for six days, but on the seventh day you shall rest; on it ye shall do no labor. Thus shall ye do unto all times, according to the command of the king and the command of Moses the son of Bithiah."

And here's the really fascinating part: Moses, according to this legend, designated Shabbat (the Sabbath) – Saturday – as that day of rest. This was before the giving of the Torah, before the explicit commandment to "Remember the Sabbath day and keep it holy" (Exodus 20:8). So, in a way, Moses laid the groundwork, preparing his people for the sacred rhythm that would later become a foundation of Jewish life.

It's a powerful reminder that even within the grand narrative of divine intervention, there's always room for human agency, for compassion, and for the courage to speak truth to power. Moses, in this version of the story, embodies all of that. He saw a need, he spoke up, and he helped create a space for rest and renewal for his people, a practice that continues to sustain us to this day.

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Legends of the Jews 4:215Legends of the Jews

Moses didn't exactly jump for joy when he got the divine call. In fact, he voiced some pretty significant doubts. Can you blame him?

He argued, "O Lord of the world, I a prophet and the son of a prophet obeyed Thy words only after much hesitation, and I cannot expect Pharaoh, a wicked man and the son of a wicked man, and the Egyptians, a disobedient people and the sons of a disobedient people, to give ear to my words." Moses, who himself had struggled with the idea, was being asked to convince Pharaoh – not exactly known for his open-mindedness – to release an entire nation. It was a monumental ask!

Moses continued, "O Lord of the world, Thou dost send me to Egypt to redeem sixty myriads of Thy people from the oppression of the Egyptians. If it were a question of delivering a couple of hundred men, it were a sufficiently difficult enterprise. How much severer is the task of freeing sixty myriads from the dominion of Pharaoh!"

Sixty myriads. That’s six hundred thousand people! The sheer scale of the undertaking must have felt crushing. It's like being asked to move a mountain, one pebble at a time.

But Moses wasn't done. He had another point, a particularly compelling one: "If Thou hadst called upon the Egyptians to give up their evil ways soon after they began to enslave Israel, they might have heeded Thy admonitions. But if I should go and speak to them now, after they have been ruling over Israel these two hundred and ten years, Pharaoh would say, 'If a slave has served his master for ten years, and no protest has made itself heard from any quarter, how can a man conceive the idea suddenly of having him set at liberty?' Verily, O Lord of the world, the task Thou puttest upon me is too heavy for my strength."

Two hundred and ten years! That's a deeply entrenched system of oppression. Moses understood the inertia of power, the way injustice can become normalized over time. He knew that trying to disrupt that system after so long would be an uphill battle. He felt the weight of history, the sheer improbability of success. "The task Thou puttest upon me is too heavy for my strength," he confessed.

It's a powerful and honest moment. It humanizes Moses, reminding us that even the greatest leaders experience doubt, fear, and a sense of inadequacy. It makes you wonder: what gives him the strength to ultimately accept the mission? Perhaps it's the unwavering faith that, even when a task feels impossible, we are not alone. And maybe, just maybe, that's a lesson we can all take to heart when facing our own seemingly insurmountable challenges.

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Legends of the Jews 4:93Legends of the Jews

We've been talking about Moses and his early life, drawing from the treasure trove of stories found in Louis Ginzberg's Legends of the Jews. And let me tell you, the drama just keeps unfolding.

So, there was this pair of, shall we say, less than admirable brothers. They weren't too happy with Moses. In fact, they were downright jealous and malicious. They just couldn't stand the respect and admiration Moses garnered.

In Ginzberg's retelling, they weren't content with just whispering behind his back. Oh no. They went straight to Pharaoh himself, hoping to stir up some trouble.

"Moses," they sneered, essentially, "he's disrespecting your royal mantle, your crown, everything you stand for!" Can you picture them, these two-faced characters, dripping with false concern?

And Pharaoh? Initially, he just shrugged it off. "Much good may it do him!" he said, basically implying, "Whatever, I don't care."

But these brothers weren't easily deterred. They doubled down. "He's helping your enemies, Pharaoh!" they insisted. Again, Pharaoh’s response was dismissive: "Much good may it do him!"

Finally, they played their trump card. "He's not the son of your daughter!"

That got Pharaoh's attention. It hit home. That single sentence, loaded with implication, finally pierced through Pharaoh's indifference.

Why? Because the story of Moses being raised as Pharaoh's grandson was key to his status and protection within the Egyptian court. Questioning that lineage was a direct challenge to his legitimacy.

And just like that, everything changed.

A royal command was issued. Moses was to be arrested. He was condemned to death by the sword. Just like that. From favored member of the royal household to a condemned man.

Talk about a turning point! What happens next? How will Moses escape this deadly trap? We'll explore that next time, as we continue our journey through the incredible Legends of the Jews. It just goes to show you, doesn't it? Even with privilege and power, you're never truly safe from betrayal.

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