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Shadad Ruled a Million Provinces and Still Died

Solomon finds a silver plate deep in a statue that speaks of Shadad ben Ad, who ruled a thousand thousand kingdoms and vanished at a touch.

Curated by Arthur · Told by Maggid ·
Table of Contents
  1. The Angel with the Worn Face
  2. The Gates of Luz
  3. The Statue That Called for Help
  4. The Plate in the Throat

The skull was floating face up when Solomon came on it, turning slowly on the surface the way a thing turns when nothing is holding it. He did not have it fished out. He spoke to it where it lay. "Because you drowned others, they drowned you, and the ones who drowned you will be drowned in their turn."

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He had a saying he liked to put next to that. A man's feet are his guarantors, and they carry him to the place where he is wanted, whether or not he has been told the address.

He believed it right up until he tried to get around it.

The Angel with the Worn Face

The Angel of Death was standing about the palace looking miserable, so Solomon asked him what the trouble was.

"They have asked me for those two who sit here," the angel said. He meant Elihoreph and Ahijah, the sons of Shisha, Solomon's own scribes, the men who wrote his letters and kept his records and who were sitting in that room while it was said.

Solomon did not argue, because there is nothing to argue about with him. He went around him instead. There is one town on earth where the Angel of Death has no power, a place called Luz, and Solomon had demons at his disposal who could cross that distance faster than a man can finish giving the order. So he gave the order. Take these two to Luz.

The Gates of Luz

The demons had them there before the dust in the courtyard settled.

They set the two scribes down at the gates of Luz, inside the only borders in the world the angel cannot enter, and at that moment both men died.

The next day the angel came in cheerful, which Solomon had never once seen, so he asked about that too.

"In the very place they were wanted from me," the angel said, "there you sent them." He had been handed two men to collect and no way of getting either of them to the spot where they were owed, and the king had solved it for him overnight, with demons, at speed, and had thanked nobody for the favor because he thought he had won.

Solomon opened his mouth and said his own saying back to himself. A man's feet are his guarantors. They carry him to the place where he is wanted.

The Statue That Called for Help

There were chambers Solomon walked through afterward with writing on their walls, and the writing did not flatter him. Son of man, do not let time deceive you, since you must wither and leave your place and go rest in the bosom of the earth. Do not rush; move slowly, because the world is taken from one and given to another. Get your food together for the road and prepare your meal while the daylight holds, since you will not stay on the earth forever and you do not know the day of your death.

In one of those chambers stood a crowd of statues, and one of them was not like the others. It looked as though it were alive. When he came near it, it shouted. "Here, you satans. Solomon has come to undo you."

The whole chamber went up in noise, stone figures crying out to each other in the dark. Solomon pronounced the Name, and the noise stopped. The statues went over on their faces. The sons of the satans ran for the sea and drowned in it, which the skull could have told them about.

The Plate in the Throat

Solomon put his hand into the throat of the statue that had cried out and drew a plate of silver from it, covered in writing.

He could not read it. That was the part he should have taken as a warning, since he was the man who understood the speech of birds and the business of demons and the meaning of hidden things, and here was a strip of metal in his own hand saying something to him in letters he did not know. He sent for a youth out of the desert who could read them.

"These letters are Greek," the youth said. Then he read it out.

I, Shadad ben Ad, ruled over a thousand thousand provinces. I rode on a thousand thousand horses. I had a thousand thousand kings under me, and I slew a thousand thousand heroes. And when the Angel of Death approached me, I was powerless.

A thousand thousand is a million, and the man had used the figure four times before he came to the last sentence. A million provinces, and then one line about a visitor he could not turn away.

Solomon had two dead scribes, a chamber of statues lying on their faces, and a strip of silver in his hand telling him what a man with a million of everything had been able to spend when the angel came to the door. The youth from the desert waited to be dismissed. Solomon was still looking at the last line, though he could not read a letter of it.


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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.

Legends of the Jews 5:128Legends 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 ancient wisdom tradition understands that feeling all too well. It reminds us, "O son of man, let not time deceive thee; thou must wither away, and leave thy place, to rest in the bosom of the earth.

It doesn't stop there. This relentless pursuit of… what, exactly? Is it worth the cost?

Instead, the tradition gently urges us, "Furnish thyself with food for the journey, prepare thy meal while daylight lasts, for thou wilt not remain on earth forever, and thou knowest not the day of thy death." In other words, prepare your soul. Nourish your spirit. The time we have is precious, and its end is unknown.

What does this have to do with King Solomon? Well, one fascinating legend, found in Legends of the Jews by Ginzberg, recounts a peculiar episode from his reign, an episode that touches on these very themes of mortality and the futility of earthly power.

Imagine Solomon, the wisest of men, exploring a series of mysterious chambers. Inside, he encounters a collection of statues, and one in particular seems almost alive. As he approaches, it emits a startling cry: "Hither, ye satans, Solomon has come to undo you!" Pandemonium erupts. A cacophony of noise and chaos fills the chamber.

Solomon, of course, is not easily intimidated. He pronounces the Ineffable Name of God – the Shem HaMeforesh – and immediately, silence descends. The statues crumble, and the offspring of these “satans” flee into the sea, where they perish.

From the throat of the lifelike statue, Solomon retrieves a silver plate covered in indecipherable characters. He seeks the wisdom of others, and a youth from the desert steps forward. "These letters are Greek," the youth explains, "and the words mean: 'I, Shadad ben Ad, ruled over a thousand thousand provinces, rode on a thousand thousand horses, had a thousand thousand kings under me, and slew a thousand thousand heroes, and when the Angel of Death approached me, I was powerless.'"

What a powerful statement! Shadad ben Ad, a king of immense power and dominion, ultimately brought low by the inevitable. All that earthly glory, all that conquest, rendered meaningless in the face of mortality.

The story serves as a memento mori, a reminder of our own impermanence. Like Shadad ben Ad, we are all subject to the same fate. The legend of Solomon and the statue, steeped in ancient wisdom, encourages us to reflect on what truly matters. What are we building? What legacy are we leaving? And are we truly nourishing our souls for the ultimate journey?

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Sukkah 53aTalmud Bavli, Sukkah

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

He too once saw a skull floating upon the surface of the water. He said to it: Because you drowned others, they drowned you; and in the end those who drowned you will themselves be drowned. Rabbi Yohanan said: A man's feet are his guarantors; to the place where he is summoned, there they carry him.

There were those two Cushites who used to stand before Solomon: Elihoreph and Ahiyah, the sons of Shisha, who were the scribes of Solomon. One day the Angel of Death saw that he was sad. He said to him: Why are you sad? He said to him: Because they have demanded of me these two Cushites who sit here. Solomon handed them over to demons and sent them to the city of Luz. When they reached the city of Luz, they died.

The next day the Angel of Death saw that he was cheerful. He said to him: Why are you cheerful? He said to him: To the very place where they were demanded of me, there you sent them. Immediately Solomon opened his mouth and said: A man's feet are his guarantors; to the place where he is summoned, there they carry him.

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Legends of the Jews 5:148Legends 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

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. A reminder that even the wisest of kings couldn't escape the inevitable.

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