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The Three Torah Laws King Solomon Broke on Purpose

The Torah gave kings three specific prohibitions. Solomon knew all three and violated all three. His reasoning was brilliant. His reasoning was wrong.

Curated by Arthur · Told by Maggid ·
Table of Contents
  1. What the Torah Said About Kings
  2. The Seven Hundred Wives
  3. The Horses From Egypt
  4. The Gold That Changed the Weights
  5. What Came From the Confounding

What the Torah Said About Kings

Long before Israel had a king, the Torah anticipated what having one would do to people. Deuteronomy 17 contains a compact set of warnings directed specifically at the future monarch: do not multiply wives, because they will turn your heart toward foreign gods. Do not multiply horses, because that will make you dependent on Egypt for military power. Do not multiply gold and silver, because wealth will corrupt your judgment. Three prohibitions. One for the heart, one for military policy, one for economic ambition. The Torah named the specific failure point of each.

Solomon knew this passage. He knew the entire Torah. He was the wisest man alive, and his wisdom was specifically described as including encyclopedic knowledge of everything that had been written. When he decided to violate all three prohibitions anyway, he was not acting in ignorance. He was acting in the certainty that he was the exception.

The Seven Hundred Wives

The first prohibition fell first. Solomon's reasoning, reconstructed by the rabbis from his own words in Ecclesiastes and from the logic of his actions in Kings, was a piece of exegesis: I will multiply wives, but I will not let my heart turn away. The prohibition was against the turning, not the multiplication. I am wise enough to hold the distinction.

He took seven hundred wives, princesses from every neighboring kingdom, and three hundred concubines. The Book of Kings is explicit about what happened next: in his old age, his wives turned his heart after their gods. He built high places for Chemosh and Molech on the mountain east of Jerusalem. He built altars for the gods of all his foreign wives. The thing the Torah said would happen, happened. The man who believed his wisdom would exempt him from the mechanism discovered that wisdom is not exemption from human psychology. It is, at most, a delay.

The Horses From Egypt

The second prohibition had an explicit geopolitical reason. Egypt was the slave house, the place Israel had escaped from, the paradigm of what dependence on a foreign power produces. Multiplying horses meant building a cavalry, and building a cavalry in that era meant buying horses from Egypt. The Torah was not simply saying: do not spend money on horses. It was saying: do not rebuild a structural dependency on the nation that once owned you.

Solomon imported horses and chariots from Egypt and from Kue, at a fixed price. First Kings records the numbers and the supply chains. He built cities specifically for his horse-drawn forces. The military logic was sound. The symbolism was catastrophic. He had taken the nation that God had led out of slavery and made it dependent on the slave master's exports for its security.

The Gold That Changed the Weights

The third prohibition was the subtlest. Gold and silver are not inherently corrupting. The danger the Torah named was to the king's judgment, to his ability to see his subjects clearly, to maintain the standard of justice that royal power requires. When a king accumulates enough wealth, his frame of reference shifts. What looks like a small bribe to a poor man looks like an ordinary gift to a king. What looks like a crushing tax to a farmer looks like a reasonable revenue stream to someone whose daily provisions included sixty measures of fine flour.

The rabbis of Kohelet Rabbah said Solomon was confounded. Not simply sinful but genuinely confused, each prohibition having done exactly what the Torah said it would do: not just the external damage but the internal one. The wives turned his heart. The horses turned his military calculations toward a dependency he no longer recognized as dependence. The gold turned his perception until he could no longer see what ordinary people saw when they looked at the consequences of his rule.

What Came From the Confounding

The tradition does not simply condemn Solomon. It holds him as the author of Proverbs, of Ecclesiastes, of the Song of Songs, as the builder of the Temple, as the man before whom the Queen of Sheba came from the ends of the earth to test his wisdom and found it exceeded her expectations. The rabbinic portrait of Solomon is of a man who reached farther and fell harder than anyone before or after him, whose wisdom was real and whose failures were exactly as real, and whose acknowledgment at the end of Ecclesiastes, fear God and keep his commandments, reads as a man who had tested every hypothesis and arrived, at last, at the conclusion the Torah had stated in advance.


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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.

Kohelet Rabbah 2:3Kohelet Rabbah

Kohelet Rabbah, a commentary on the Book of Ecclesiastes, dives deep into the question: "Of laughter, I said it is confounded" (Ecclesiastes 2:2). How confounding is laughter, really? Rabbi Aḥa, quoting Shmuel, gives us a clue: Solomon was challenged by the attribute of justice in three specific areas, and ultimately, he was confounded and confused.

What were these challenges? They all stemmed from Solomon seemingly ignoring explicit commandments in Deuteronomy. "He shall not have many wives" (Deuteronomy 17:17), the Torah states plainly. But Solomon? "He had seven hundred wives, princesses, and three hundred concubines" (I Kings 11:3). A thousand women!

Then there's the matter of horses. (Deuteronomy 17:16) says, "He shall not have many horses." Yet, "Solomon had forty thousand stables of horses" (I Kings 5:6). Forty thousand! That’s not just a few extra ponies.

Finally, there's the issue of wealth. (Deuteronomy 17:17) warns against amassing excessive gold and silver. But "the king made the silver and the gold in Jerusalem as stones" (II (Chronicles 1:1)5). I mean, as stones! Rabbi Yosei ben Rabbi Ḥanina even explains that the stones were enormous, ten and eight cubits each – far too large to steal. Rabbi Shimon ben Yoḥai adds that even the weights used for trade were made of gold! "None of silver, as it was not considered anything during the reign of Solomon" (I (Kings 10:2)1).

So what was going on here? Did Solomon think he was above the law? Did he think his wisdom gave him a free pass? According to Kohelet Rabbah, that’s exactly what happened. The Holy One, blessed be He, essentially said, "What is this crown doing in your hands? Descend from My throne!" Solomon thought he could violate these rules without consequence, but he was wrong.

And here's where the story takes a truly heartbreaking turn. At that very moment, an angel descended, taking on Solomon’s appearance, and sat upon his throne. Solomon, stripped of his power and glory, wandered among the synagogues, the study halls, and the homes of Israel’s leaders, proclaiming, "I am Kohelet, I was king over Israel in Jerusalem" (Ecclesiastes 1:12). But no one believed him. They thought he was mad. They struck him with a reed and gave him a bowl of grits – the food of the destitute.

Imagine the humiliation. Imagine the fall from such heights. At that moment, Solomon wept, uttering the words of (Ecclesiastes 2:10): "This was my portion from all my exertion."

What does this story tell us? Perhaps it's a cautionary tale about the dangers of hubris, of believing ourselves to be exceptions to the rules. Perhaps it's a reminder that even the wisest among us can fall prey to temptation and ultimately face the consequences of our actions. It's a stark reminder that even the greatest achievements can turn to ashes if they are built on a foundation of disregard for divine law. And maybe, just maybe, it’s a little comforting to know that even Solomon, in all his glory, wasn't perfect.

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Legends of the Jews 5:24Legends of the Jews

The story of Solomon, a king whose legendary wisdom was almost overshadowed by his transgressions.

Solomon for his wisdom, but let's be real: he wasn't perfect is familiar. He slipped up in a few key areas. For starters, he married a gentile woman, which, according to some interpretations, wasn't done for the purest of reasons. More than that, though, he broke some serious rules laid out in the Torah. He kept too many horses, something strictly forbidden for a Jewish king. And he hoarded gold and silver – another major no-no. The text makes it clear: "he amassed much silver and gold," and the law finds this abhorrent.

In Legends of the Jews, under Solomon, silver and gold became so common that people used them for everyday utensils! Imagine eating your breakfast with a golden spoon! But all this extravagance, all this flaunting of the rules…it came at a price. Solomon would have to atone for it later, and painfully so.

Let's not dwell only on the negative. Solomon's claim to fame, the thing that truly set him apart, was his legendary wisdom. Remember the story of God appearing to him in a dream in Gibeon? God offers him anything he wants. Now, only a few figures in Jewish tradition have had such an offer, like King Ahaz, and the promise of this opportunity for choosing will only be fulfilled by the Messiah in the future. What does Solomon choose? Not riches, not power, but wisdom. He understood that with wisdom, everything else would follow. Smart move. And boy, was he wise! The Scriptures tell us his wisdom was "greater than the wisdom of Ethan the Ezrahite, and Heman, and Calcol, and Darda, the three sons of Mahol." According to Ginzberg's retelling in Legends of the Jews, that means he was even wiser than figures like Abraham, Moses, and even Adam! isn't it?

Think about his proverbs. We only have about eight hundred of them today. But, as we find in Midrash Rabbah, each verse can be interpreted in multiple ways, effectively making it equal to three thousand! Solomon delved into the laws revealed to Moses, offering explanations for the rituals and ceremonies of the Torah. Without his insights, some of these practices might have seemed…well, a little strange.

The "forty-nine gates of wisdom," a concept familiar to both Moses and Solomon, were open to him. But Solomon, in his ambition, even tried to surpass Moses! He was so confident in his judgment that he considered dispensing justice without witnesses, if it wasn't for divine intervention. Can you imagine the potential for abuse of power?

So, what's the takeaway here? Solomon's story is a reminder that even the wisest among us are fallible. It's a story about the seductive nature of power and wealth, and the importance of staying true to one's principles. But it's also a evidence of the incredible power of wisdom, and its ability to illuminate the world around us. Solomon’s legacy isn’t just about his gold or his throne, but about the timeless wisdom he left behind, wisdom that continues to guide and inspire us today.

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Bamidbar Rabbah 10:4Bamidbar Rabbah

A fascinating story from Bamidbar Rabbah 10, a section of the larger Midrash Rabbah, a collection of rabbinic homilies and interpretations of the Torah. It’s a story about King Solomon, the wisest of all men, and a night that almost changed everything.

Rabbi Yishmael offers a dramatic answer. It all happened on the very night Solomon finished building the Temple. A night of double celebration, because he also married the daughter of Pharaoh.

According to this midrash, the joy over Solomon's marriage to Pharaoh’s daughter actually overshadowed the rejoicing for the Temple itself. Can you imagine? This upset God, and the verse says that God even considered destroying Jerusalem in response! As we find in (Jeremiah 32:31), God said, “For [this city has been] a cause of My wrath and of My anger [from the day that they built it until this day; remove it from My presence].”

Why did this marriage cause so much upheaval? Well, the Rabbis explain that Pharaoh's daughter introduced Solomon to a thousand types of song, each dedicated to a different idol. She created a seductive, almost hypnotic atmosphere. Even worse, she put a canopy above Solomon covered in gems that shone like stars. Every time he tried to wake up for his duties, he saw the dazzling display and fell back asleep.

Rabbi Levi adds that on that particular day, the morning offering in the Temple wasn’t sacrificed until the fourth hour of the day – terribly late! There was an incident, we're told, where the daily morning offering was sacrificed at the fourth hour. Imagine the distress of the Israelites. It was the dedication of the Temple, but they couldn't wake Solomon! They were afraid to disturb the king.

So, what did they do? They went to Bathsheba, Solomon's mother, and she took matters into her own hands.

Bathsheba woke Solomon and delivered a powerful rebuke. The text says, "The oration with which his mother admonished him" (Proverbs 31:1). Rabbi Yoḥanan paints a vivid picture: Bathsheba bent him over a post! She then asks, "What, my son?" (Proverbs 31:2). She reminds him that everyone knows his father, King David, was God-fearing. Now, she fears, they'll say she's the reason he's straying.

She continues, "What, son of my womb?" (Proverbs 31:2), reminding him of the sacrifices she made for him, even breaking custom to ensure he was a worthy heir. "And what, son of my vows?" (Proverbs 31:2). While other women prayed for sons fit for kingship, she prayed for a son quick in Torah and worthy of prophecy.

Then comes the core of her message: "Do not give your strength to women" (Proverbs 31:3). She warns him against the dangers of lust and reminds him of the Torah's commandment: "He shall not amass for himself many wives" (Deuteronomy 17:17). Be careful, she warns, these things destroy kings.

She then challenges him: "It is not for kings, Lemuel" (Proverbs 31:4), implying, what business do you have with kings who say, 'Why do we need God [lama lanu el]?' Don't emulate their actions! "It is not for kings to drink wine" (Proverbs 31:4), she continues. Why do you act like kings who get drunk and engage in lewd acts? Don't be like them.

Rabbi Shimon explains that drinking wine can lead one to forget the Torah's commandments, the meḥukak, especially "You shall not commit adultery" (Exodus 20:13). Bathsheba reminds Solomon that justice was entrusted to the House of David. Drinking wine could lead him to "subvert justice for all the children of the poor" (Proverbs 31:5).

The text even explores the proper use of wine: "Give strong drink to the hopeless, and wine to embittered souls" (Proverbs 31:6). Rabbi Ḥanan says wine was created to reward the wicked in this world and to comfort mourners. It should be used to ease suffering, not to cloud judgment.

The passage then turns to the responsibility of the court to advocate for those who cannot advocate for themselves: "Open your mouth for the mute" (Proverbs 31:8), specifically orphans who don't know how to claim their inheritance.

Finally, the text returns to the name "Lemuel." It suggests that "Lemuel" means whispering [nam] to God [lael], saying, "I can amass many wives and not sin." It's a warning against arrogance and the belief that one is above temptation.

The midrash then interprets Bathsheba's admonishment through the lens of Torah law, connecting it to the prohibitions against intermarriage, adultery, and excessive drinking. It emphasizes that these prohibitions are not arbitrary but are essential for maintaining spiritual and moral integrity.

The episode concludes by suggesting that Solomon eventually conceded his error. He learned from the mistakes of Noah and Adam, who were both led astray by wine. Solomon realized that true wisdom lies in acknowledging one's limitations and adhering to the teachings of the Torah.

So, what can we take away from this story? It's a reminder that even the wisest among us are fallible. It's a call to humility, a warning against arrogance, and a reminder of the importance of staying grounded in our values. And perhaps most importantly, it highlights the power of a mother's love and a mother's wisdom in guiding her child back to the right path. It's a powerful narrative about temptation, responsibility, and the enduring strength of moral guidance, still resonant today.

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