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The Throne Solomon Built Was Prepared Before Adam Was Made

Solomon's mechanical throne dazzled every nation. The rabbis taught that it was the earthly shadow of something made before the world existed.

Curated by Arthur · Told by Maggid ·
Table of Contents
  1. What Every Ambassador Saw
  2. What Was Made Before the World
  3. Why Repentance Had to Come First
  4. What Judah's Line Was Built to Carry

What Every Ambassador Saw

Every delegation that came to Jerusalem came away describing the same thing. Six steps led up to the throne, with twelve golden lions on the left and twelve golden eagles on the right, a lion paired with an eagle at each step. Above the throne a golden dove held a golden eagle in its talons. When Solomon sat down and the mechanism was engaged, the lions and eagles moved. The king was lifted to his seat as though raised by the creatures themselves, as though the animal world were participating in the elevation of Israel's ruler.

The nations had never seen anything like it. They had great thrones, thrones of ivory and cedar and inlaid gold, but they were static objects. Solomon's throne moved. It was a political statement encoded in engineering: this is not an ordinary kingdom. The king who sits here is raised by forces that recognize his authority.

The rabbis asked the obvious question: where did Solomon get the wisdom to build this? The answer they gave was that Solomon had not invented the design. He had been given access to an original that already existed.

What Was Made Before the World

The Legends of the Jews records the foundational teaching: seven things were created before the world itself. The Torah was first, written with black fire on white fire. Then repentance, placed before creation so that the world God was about to make would have somewhere to go when it failed. Then the Garden of Eden, Gehinnom, the Throne of Glory, the site of the Temple, and the name of the Messiah.

The Throne of Glory in heaven was not a later addition to the divine presence. It was part of the pre-creational furniture of the cosmos, existing before light was spoken into being, before water was separated from water, before the first day had a name. Solomon's throne on earth was built as a shadow of that original, and the Chronicles of Jerahmeel, drawing on traditions preserved in multiple rabbinic sources, states explicitly that God did not permit a full replica: when the nations attempted to copy Solomon's throne they could not reproduce it, and when a later king attempted to sit on it as though he were Solomon, the mechanism turned against him.

Why Repentance Had to Come First

The Chronicles of Jerahmeel preserves a specific teaching about the order of the seven pre-creational things. God drew up the blueprint for a world. The blueprint failed. The cosmos could not stand as designed, because any world containing human beings would contain the possibility of catastrophic failure, and catastrophic failure without any mechanism for return would make the world a closed system of destruction. So God created repentance first, before anything else was built, as the structural support that would allow the creation to survive its own inhabitants.

This teaching matters for Solomon's throne because Solomon himself was not exempt from the need for repentance. He built the throne. He also, the tradition records, went astray through the very gifts that made the throne possible: the wealth, the wisdom, the diplomatic marriages to foreign women who brought their worship with them. The Throne of Glory in heaven never required repentance because it housed the divine presence directly. Solomon's earthly throne required it because the man who sat on it was human.

What Judah's Line Was Built to Carry

The Testament of Judah in the Testaments of the Twelve Patriarchs describes Judah's deathbed account of his own career with a warrior's precision. He chased down a hind in his youth and outdistanced it. He killed a horse and its rider with his bare hands. He fought off two kings simultaneously. His father had told him he would be a king, prospering in all things, and Judah had taken the blessing at face value and spent his life trying to earn it through physical force.

What his father's blessing actually designated was not a warrior but a dynasty. The scepter that would not depart from Judah. The lawgiver between his feet. The vine tied to the choicest branch. The blood of grapes washing the garments. These images are not about combat. They are about the long governance of a people, the patient accumulation of covenantal authority over generations, the building of a kingdom stable enough to house a Throne of Glory on earth.

Solomon was Judah's descendant. He was the man the dynasty had been building toward since the moment Judah's name was spoken in thanksgiving by Leah at a birth in Haran. The throne Solomon built was the physical expression of what Jacob's blessing had designated five generations earlier. The pre-creational Throne of Glory cast a shadow into history, and the shadow landed in Jerusalem.


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Legends of the Jews 1:3Legends of the Jews

Imagine, if you will, two thousand years before heaven and earth. A time of pure potential. What was brewing in the cosmic kitchen?

In Legends of the Jews, a monumental work compiled by Louis Ginzberg, seven extraordinary things already existed. Think of them as the blueprints and building blocks of reality.

First, there was the Torah itself. Not just the physical scroll, but the very blueprint of creation, written, amazingly, with black fire on white fire, resting in the lap of God. Mind. Blown.

Then, the Divine Throne, ready for its occupant. It was erected in the highest heaven, the one poised above the Hayyot, those celestial beings who carry God’s chariot, as described in Ezekiel.

And of course, Paradise, situated on God’s right, and its opposite, Hell, on His left. Already, the destinations of souls were prepared, the ultimate reward and consequence laid out before creation even began.

Next, the Celestial Sanctuary, positioned directly in front of God. In this otherworldly space stood an altar adorned with a jewel, upon which was engraved the very Name of the Messiah. And from this sanctuary emanated a powerful Voice, crying out, "Return, ye children of men." A constant invitation, a call to repentance woven into the very fabric of existence. But it gets even more interesting when we consider the role of the Torah in the creation itself.

When God decided to create the world, He didn’t just snap His fingers. He consulted with the Torah! The Torah, personified as wisdom itself, advised Him, "O Lord, a king without an army and without courtiers and attendants hardly deserves the name of king, for none is nigh to express the homage due to him." for a second. The Torah isn’t just a set of rules; it's a guide, a partner in the act of creation. It’s suggesting that creation needs beings to appreciate and acknowledge the Divine. God wants relationship.

God was so pleased with this advice! This detail, according to the tradition, teaches all earthly kings – and, by extension, all of us – to seek counsel before acting. Before making big decisions. Before creating anything new.

It's a profound lesson about humility, collaboration, and the importance of seeking wisdom. As we find in Midrash Rabbah, the ancient rabbis constantly sought guidance from the Torah and from each other.

So, what does all this mean for us today? Perhaps it’s a reminder that even before the universe as we know it existed, the seeds of relationship, wisdom, and purpose were already planted. And maybe, just maybe, those seeds are still waiting to sprout in our own lives. Are we listening to the wisdom around us? Are we consulting with our own inner Torah before we act? Are we creating a world worthy of praise?

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Chronicles of Jerahmeel IChronicles of Jerahmeel (Gaster, 1899)

God drew up the blueprints for a world. They failed. According to the Chronicles of Jerahmeel, a 12th-century Hebrew chronicle compiled by Jerahmeel ben Solomon and first translated by Moses Gaster in 1899, the cosmos could not stand until God created one thing first: repentance.

Seven things existed before the world itself. The Torah. Repentance. The Throne of Glory. The Garden of Eden. Gehinnom (the place of spiritual purification after death). The site of the Temple. And the name of the Messiah. These were the foundations on which everything else would rest. Without them, creation had no architecture.

The heavens were made from the brilliance of God's own garment. He peeled it off like a covering and spread it out, and the heavens kept stretching until He said "Enough." The earth came from the snow beneath the Throne of Glory. He scattered it upon the waters, and the waters froze into dust.

Four winds emerged from four corners. Light from the east. Blessed dew from the south. Snow and rain from the west. But the north corner God left unfinished on purpose. "Whoever declares himself God," He said, "let him come finish this corner." That incomplete edge became the dwelling place of demons, earthquakes, and evil spirits.

Four bands of angels surround the divine throne. Michael on the right. Gabriel in front. Uriel on the left. Raphael behind. The throne itself is suspended in midair, half fire and half snow, with the Ineffable Name written across God's forehead. Two seraphim stand beside Him, each with six wings. Two wings cover their faces so they cannot gaze upon the Shekinah (שכינה), the Divine Presence. Two wings hide their feet to avoid recalling the sin of the golden calf. And with the remaining two, they fly, crying "Holy, holy, holy."

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Bamidbar Rabbah 13:4Bamidbar Rabbah

From that small verse, the Midrash (rabbinic interpretive commentary) launches into a fascinating exploration of Judah, the tribe of lions, fiery furnaces, and ultimately, God's presence in the world. How? Well, it all starts with another verse: “God is known in Judah…” (Psalms 76:2).

The Midrash asks, how did Judah become so well-known? One answer lies in Judah's own act of confession. Remember the story with Tamar (Genesis 38:26)? Judah publicly admitted, "She is more righteous than I." According to the Midrash, he didn’t withhold the truth from Jacob or from Shem's court. This act of humility and truthfulness, the Midrash suggests, echoes through generations. Because Judah rescued Tamar and her twin sons from being burned alive, Bamidbar Rabbah connects this to the later rescue of Hananya, Mishael, and Azarya from Nebuchadnezzar's fiery furnace! See the connection? One courageous act leading to another, displaying God's presence.

The connections don't stop there. The Midrash continues: “God is known in Judah” – when Daniel descended into the lion’s den and was rescued (Daniel 6). Why Daniel? Because he prayed to God, who is metaphorically called a "lion," as it's written: “They will follow the Lord, He will roar like a lion” (Hosea 11:10). And Daniel himself is from the tribe of Judah, which is also called a "lion," as in “Judah is a lion cub” (Genesis 49:9). It’s like a cosmic echo: let a Lion (God) come and rescue a lion (Daniel) from the mouth of a lion (the literal lions!).

The Midrash offers another reason for Daniel's safety: maybe he resembled the lions! Or, perhaps he wasn't thrown into the furnace because he was seen as Nebuchadnezzar's god. The text points to (Daniel 2:46), where Nebuchadnezzar prostrates himself to Daniel. The Midrash suggests that God intervened to prevent Daniel from being burned, to further reveal His might.

Then, the text shifts gears slightly, addressing a different kind of exile – that of the ten tribes of Israel. The Midrash quotes (Hosea 5:9): “Ephraim will become desolation…among the tribes of Israel I proclaim certainties.” When Judah and Benjamin weren’t exiled initially, the nations questioned God’s fairness. But when Judah was eventually exiled, it served as a stark reminder: no one is exempt from accountability. “God is known in Judah,” even through punishment.

The Midrash then brings in (Psalms 27:3), "If an army besieges me, my heart will not fear." How? By trusting in Moses' blessing: “This for Judah…Hear, Lord, the voice of Judah…and You will be a helper against his adversaries” (Deuteronomy 33:7).

And what about the verse "His name is great in Israel" (Psalms 76:2)? The Midrash interprets this through the lens of (Proverbs 19:29): “Punishments are prepared for cynics.” It's a stark reminder that God anticipates human failings. Before creating humanity, the text says, God prepared the consequences for wrongdoing. It's like a craftsman knowing the flaws in his material beforehand.

The text then touches on the power of prayer, linking "His name is great in Israel" to (Malachi 1:11): “For, from the rising of the sun to its setting, My name is great among the nations…”. But, the Midrash asks, are sacrifices actually offered everywhere? No! Rather, it's about the prayers offered by Jews worldwide. The afternoon prayer (minḥa), the morning prayer connecting to Abraham's actions (Genesis 18:23), and the evening prayer (ketoret) – each a evidence of God's presence.

Ultimately, “God is known in Judah” when He takes revenge on their enemies, as (Joel 4:19) states: “Egypt will become desolation and Edom will become a desolate wilderness, due to the villainy against the children of Judah…”.

Finally, we return to Naḥshon at the Red Sea. As the Israelites hesitated, Naḥshon bravely leapt into the waves. As (Psalms 69:2) says, "Rescue me, God, for the waters have come up to my soul." God tells Moses to stop praying and command the Israelites to move forward (Exodus 14:15). Because of this act of faith, God exalted Naḥshon, granting him the honor of presenting his offering first.

So, what does this all mean? Bamidbar Rabbah 13 shows us how interconnected the Jewish tradition is. It's a web of stories, verses, and interpretations, all pointing to one central idea: that God's presence is revealed through acts of courage, humility, prayer, and even through the consequences of our actions. It reminds us that even seemingly small actions can have ripple effects, shaping not only our own lives but the course of history. And perhaps, most importantly, it shows us that God is always known, always present, in the midst of it all.

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Testament of JudahTestaments of the Twelve Patriarchs

Judah, fourth son of Jacob and Leah, gathered his sons and told them everything. His mother had named him Judah, saying, "I give thanks to the Lord, because He has given me a fourth son also" (Genesis 29:35). He was swift in his youth, obedient to his father, and his father blessed him: "You shall be a king, prospering in all things."

Judah was a warrior of terrifying power.

He raced down a hind and caught it. He mastered roes in the chase and overtook everything in the plains. He caught a wild mare and tamed it. He slew a lion and plucked a kid from its mouth. He seized a bear by the paw and hurled it off a cliff. He outran a wild boar and tore it apart while running. A leopard leaped upon his dog in Hebron, and Judah caught it by the tail and smashed it on the rocks. He found a wild ox in the fields, grabbed it by the horns, whirled it, stunned it, and killed it.

In battle, he was worse. When two Canaanite kings came armored against their flocks, Judah rushed single-handed upon the king of Hazor, struck him on the greaves, dragged him down, and slew him. A giant warrior on horseback hurled javelins in all directions. Judah picked up a stone weighing sixty pounds, hurled it, and killed the man's horse. He fought the giant for two hours, split his shield in two, chopped off his feet, and killed him. When nine of the giant's companions attacked, Judah wrapped his garment around his hand, slung stones, killed four, and the rest fled.

City after city fell. Hazor. Aretan. Tappuah. Jobel. Makir. Gaash. Thamna. Judah scaled walls under a rain of stones, infiltrated cities disguised as an Amorite, opened gates for his brothers in the dead of night. His father Jacob saw in a vision that an angel of might followed Judah everywhere, ensuring he would never be overcome.

But the warrior had weaknesses. Two of them: wine and women.

Judah married Bathshua, a Canaanite, against his father's counsel. Her father was a king who adorned her with gold and pearls and made her pour wine at the feast. "The wine turned aside my eyes," Judah confessed, "and pleasure blinded my heart. I became enamored, and I lay with her, and transgressed the commandment of the Lord and of my fathers." She bore him Er, Onan, and Shelah. Two of them the Lord struck down for wickedness (Genesis 38:7-10).

Then came the incident with Tamar. After Bathshua refused to let Shelah marry Tamar, and after Tamar had waited two years as a widow, she disguised herself and sat at the gate of the city Enaim. Judah, drunk with wine, did not recognize her. He went in to her and gave her his staff, girdle, and royal diadem as a pledge. When he discovered she was pregnant, he wanted to kill her. But she sent back his pledges, and Judah was shamed into silence (Genesis 38:13-26). "It was from the Lord," he admitted. He never went near her again.

"Be not drunk with wine," Judah commanded his sons, "for wine turns the mind away from truth and inspires the passion of lust. The spirit of lust has wine as its minister. If a man drinks to drunkenness, it disturbs his mind with filthy thoughts, heats the body for sin, and he is not ashamed." He pointed to himself: before the eyes of the whole city, he had turned aside to Tamar, uncovered his sons' shame. Drunk, he gave away the three symbols of his kingship: the staff that was the stay of his tribe, the girdle that was his power, the diadem that was his glory.

"There are four evil spirits in wine," Judah warned. "Lust. Hot desire. Profligacy. Greed. If you would live soberly, do not touch wine at all."

He then spoke of a deeper truth. "Two spirits wait upon every person," he said, "the spirit of truth and the spirit of deceit. Between them stands the spirit of understanding, which can turn whichever way it chooses. The works of truth and deceit are written upon the hearts of men, and the Lord knows each one. There is no time at which the works of men can be hidden, for on the heart itself they have been inscribed before the Lord."

Judah commanded his sons to love Levi, for God had given the priesthood a rank above the kingship. "As the heaven is higher than the earth, so is the priesthood of God higher than the earthly kingdom," he said. The angel of the Lord had told him plainly: God chose Levi above Judah, to draw near to Him and eat of His table.

Looking to the future, Judah saw destruction: wars, divisions, captivity among the nations. But afterward, "A star shall arise from Jacob in peace (Numbers 24:17), and a righteous one shall arise, walking with the sons of men in meekness and righteousness, and no sin shall be found in him." The heavens would open. The scepter of Judah's kingdom would shine forth, and from his root a rod of righteousness would grow.

Judah died at a hundred and nineteen years old. He asked for no costly burial garments. They carried him to Hebron and buried him with his fathers.

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