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Jochebed Built the Ark and Miriam Stayed at the River

Jochebed pitched the outside only so her son would not breathe the smell of pitch. Then she set him in the Nile and walked away.

Curated by Arthur · Told by Maggid ·
Table of Contents
  1. The Morning She Built It
  2. Miriam at the River's Edge
  3. The Princess at the River
  4. The Name of Adoption

The Morning She Built It

Jochebed built the ark from bulrushes because bulrushes float. She pitched it on the outside with bitumen and pitch, not the inside, because she did not want her son to breathe the smell of pitch during however long he would be on the water. She spread a small canopy over the child to block the sun. Then she picked him up and carried him to the river and set the basket down among the reeds at the bank. Before she left she said, half to the child and half to God: perhaps I will not live to see him stand under a marriage canopy. She walked away without looking back, because looking back would have ended her.

The day was the twenty-first of Nisan. The tradition records this date with care: it is the same day on which the children of Israel would stand at the far shore of the sea centuries later and sing their praise for the redemption from Egypt. The teachers who noticed this did not think it was a coincidence. The moment the ark went into the Nile was already folded into the moment the people would come out of the sea.

Miriam at the River's Edge

Miriam stayed near the water. She had prophesied before Moses was born, while she was still a child herself, that her mother would bear a son who would redeem Israel. When the pregnancy came, her father Amram had kissed her on the head with a father's gratitude toward his prophesying daughter. When Jochebed was forced to place the baby in the river, Amram struck Miriam on the head and said: what has become of your prophecy now? Miriam stayed at the river's edge to find out. The tradition names this as one of the seven acts of waiting in the Torah that were rewarded: Miriam waited, and Israel waited for her in the wilderness at Hazeroth when she was struck with leprosy, measure for measure.

The Princess at the River

God sent a scorching heat on Egypt that morning. The people suffered with skin ailments, burning and leprosy. Thermutis, the daughter of Pharaoh, came to the Nile for relief from her burning skin. She also came, the tradition says, because she had no children and had heard there was a power in the sacred river that could open a barren womb. She came for healing, not knowing that the healing she would find was a child in a basket floating in the reeds.

She saw the basket. She sent her maidens to fetch it. When she opened it, the child was weeping, and the Shekhinah was with him, and Thermutis was moved by compassion. She said: this is one of the Hebrew children. She knew exactly whose child this was and what the decree about Hebrew sons required. She set the decree aside. She drew the child out of the water and held him. Her skin ailment healed at the moment of contact, and she understood what had happened and why.

The Name of Adoption

Miriam came forward from her watching-place and offered to find a Hebrew nurse for the child. Thermutis agreed. Miriam went and brought Jochebed, and Jochebed nursed her own son in Pharaoh's house, paid wages by the daughter of the king who had ordered Hebrew sons drowned. The tradition savors the irony: the decree produced the opposite of what it intended. The child who was supposed to die returned to his mother's arms with a royal guarantee.

Thermutis named him Moses: because I drew him from the water. The name in Hebrew, Moshe, echoes the verb to draw out. He would one day draw an entire people out of Egypt, but that was later. First he was a drawn-out child in a borrowed name, being nursed by his mother in the palace of his enemy.

MosesBirthMiriamEgyptPharaoh
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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.

Legends of the Jews, IV. Moses In Egypt, Moses Rescued From The WaterLegends of the Jews

Pharaoh has decreed that all Hebrew baby boys must be killed. What's a mother to do? As Legends of the Jews (Ginzberg) tells us, she takes matters into her own hands. She builds an ark – not a massive one like Noah's, but a small, carefully constructed basket made of bulrushes. She waterproofs it with pitch, but only on the outside, because she doesn't want the smell to bother the baby!

She even adds a tiny canopy over him, whispering, "Perhaps I shall not live to see him under the marriage canopy." A poignant wish, filled with both hope and heartbreaking uncertainty. And then, she does the unthinkable: she sets the ark afloat on the shores of the Red Sea.

She doesn't just abandon him completely. Miriam, Moses' sister, stays nearby, watching, waiting. Why? Because she had prophesied even before Moses' birth that her mother would give birth to the redeemer of Israel! According to Ginzberg, when Moses was born, the house filled with brilliant light. But when they were forced to abandon him, Amram, her father, questioned her prophecy. So Miriam is there, on the shore, to see how things unfold. It's a powerful image of faith and familial love mixed with a healthy dose of "I told you so."

The day Moses is set adrift is significant, by the way. It's the twenty-first of Nisan – the same day, years later, that the Israelites will sing a song of praise to God for their redemption from the sea. As we find in Midrash Rabbah, the angels themselves question God: "Will the one destined to sing Your praises for being rescued from the sea find his death in the sea today?" God, of course, knows the whole story.

Meanwhile, God sends a scorching heat upon the Egyptians, afflicting them with leprosy and boils. Thermutis, Pharaoh's daughter, seeks relief in the waters of the Nile. But there's more to it than just physical discomfort. She is also seeking to cleanse herself from the impurity of the idol worship in her father's palace. When she spots the little ark bobbing in the water, she orders her handmaids to retrieve it.

But here's where things get really interesting. The handmaids protest! "Do you desire to transgress your father's edict?" they ask. Immediately, the angel Gabriel appears and, shall we say, persuades them to be quiet. by burying them in the earth! Only one handmaid is spared to assist the princess. Thermutis, now acting on her own, reaches for the ark. Though it's sixty ells away (that's quite a distance!), her arm miraculously lengthens, and she grabs it.

The moment she touches the ark, her leprosy vanishes! It's a sign, a clear indication that something extraordinary is happening. When she opens the ark, she's astonished to find a beautiful baby boy, radiating with the Shekinah – the divine presence. She notices the sign of the Abrahamic covenant and knows he's a Hebrew child.

Initially, she hesitates, remembering her father's decree. But then, Gabriel gives the baby a good pinch, and he cries out with a voice like a young man. Touched by his cries, and perhaps feeling a divine nudge, Thermutis decides to save him.

She orders an Egyptian woman to nurse the child, but Moses refuses. He won't take milk from any of them! Why? Because, as Ginzberg explains, God ordained that none of them should later boast, "I suckled him who speaks with the Shekinah." The mouth destined to speak with God would not draw nourishment from an unclean source.

Enter Miriam, as if by chance. She suggests, "Why not try a Hebrew woman? He might accept her breast, seeing she is of his own nation." Thermutis agrees, and Miriam, quick as a wink, brings back her own mother – Jochebed! The baby latches on immediately. The princess, unknowingly speaking a prophecy, tells Jochebed, "Here is what is thine." She hires her to nurse the boy, unknowingly paying her own mother to care for her own child.

What a moment of divine irony! Jochebed is rewarded for her bravery in defying Pharaoh's command by being reunited with her son and paid to care for him. And by placing Moses in danger, Amram and Jochebed unintentionally caused Pharaoh to rescind his decree against the Hebrew children.

The story doesn't end there. The astrologers tell Pharaoh that the danger threatening the Egyptians from a boy destined to be killed by water has passed. So, Pharaoh calls off the drowning of the Hebrew boys. They think they know what’s going on, but they don't understand the full picture. As Ginzberg points out, the water that will be Moses' doom isn’t the Nile. It's the waters of Meribah – the waters of strife – that will ultimately lead to his death in the desert, before he can lead his people into the Promised Land.

Pharaoh, misled by his astrologers, even ordered the drowning of Egyptian boys born during the same period, trying to be extra sure! But because of Moses' merit, all six hundred thousand Hebrew boys born that night were miraculously saved.

So, what are we left with? A story of faith, courage, divine intervention, and a healthy dose of irony. Moses' rescue from the water is more than just a dramatic tale; it's a evidence of the power of faith, the resilience of the human spirit, and the often-unforeseen ways in which God works in our lives. It makes you wonder, doesn't it? What "arks" are we building, what prophecies are we upholding, and what unexpected deliverances might be waiting just around the corner?

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Legends of the Jews 4:57Legends of the Jews

The familiar story is this: Pharaoh, terrified by the growing number of Israelites, orders all newborn Hebrew boys to be cast into the Nile. A desperate act of cruelty. But what was going on behind the scenes, beyond the immediate horror?

In Legends of the Jews, as retold by Rabbi Louis Ginzberg, this wasn’t just a moment of political panic for Pharaoh. God, seeing the injustice, sent a scorching heat upon the Egyptians. They were plagued with leprosy and agonizing boils. Can you imagine the suffering?

She sought relief from this agonizing heat, not in some luxurious palace chamber, but in the waters of the Nile itself. But Ginzberg suggests there was more to it than just physical relief. Thermutis, was also seeking to cleanse herself of the impurity of the idol worship that permeated her father’s court. A fascinating detail, isn’t it? It paints her as a woman of conscience, struggling against the tide of her own upbringing.

Then comes the moment of discovery. Thermutis spots a little ark, a tiny basket, bobbing among the reeds. She immediately understands that it contains one of the Hebrew children, abandoned to the river. She orders her handmaids to retrieve it.

But they hesitate. And this is where the legend truly takes flight.

"O our mistress," they protest, their words laced with fear, "it happens sometimes that a decree issued by a king is unheeded, yet it is observed at least by his children and the members of his household, and dost thou desire to transgress thy father's edict?" It's a powerful moment, highlighting the moral conflict at the heart of the story. Are they more loyal to Pharaoh's command or to their own sense of right and wrong?

And then, something extraordinary happens. The angel Gabriel appears! According to the legend, Gabriel seizes all the maids except one, one who is permitted to remain in the princess's service. And buries them in the bowels of the earth. Talk about divine intervention!

This detail, found in Legends of the Jews, adds a dramatic, almost supernatural layer to the familiar narrative. It emphasizes the immense power at play, the cosmic battle between good and evil that underlies the simple act of finding a baby in a basket. It underlines the courage it took for Thermutis to defy her father.

We're left to wonder: why were only some punished? What was so special about the one who was spared? Perhaps it's a reminder that even in the face of overwhelming oppression, individual choices matter. Even a small act of kindness or defiance can have profound consequences.

And isn't that what legends are all about? Taking a moment in history and amplifying it, exploring the hidden meanings, and reminding us of the enduring power of faith and compassion?

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Legends of the Jews 4:54Legends of the Jews

The scene. Pharaoh’s decree hangs heavy in the air: all newborn Hebrew boys must be killed. Jochebed, Moses' mother, makes a choice. A heartbreaking, terrifying choice. She builds an ark – a small chest or basket – not of wood, but of bulrushes. Why bulrushes? Because, as the legends tell us, bulrushes float so well The first reading of the water. (Legends of the Jews).

She daubs it with pitch, that sticky, tar-like substance, on the outside. Did you ever wonder why only the outside? According to the legends, it was so the baby wouldn't be bothered by the unpleasant smell! It's these little details that make the story so human, isn't it? The lengths a mother goes to, even in the midst of unimaginable fear.

Then, she lines the inside with clay. And over the tiny babe, she spreads a tiny canopy. A canopy, a huppah, like the kind used for a wedding. It wasn’t just for shade. As she placed it there, she whispered, "Perhaps I shall not live to see him under the marriage canopy." A poignant, heartbreaking premonition. (Legends of the Jews).

Then, the unimaginable. She abandons the ark on the shores of the Red Sea – or, more precisely, the river, as the traditional texts sometimes refer to it. But he wasn't alone.

Her daughter, Miriam, that unsung heroine, she stays nearby. She wasn't just casually strolling along the shore. She was there with a purpose. A prophecy. Before Moses was even born, Miriam had declared that her mother would bring forth a son who would redeem Israel.

Now, isn't that something? A child, a young girl, holding onto such a powerful vision?

The story goes that when Moses was born, their house was filled with brilliant light. Amram, their father, even kissed Miriam on the head in celebration. But when Pharaoh’s decree forced them to expose the child, Amram, in despair, beat her on the head, questioning her prophecy: "My daughter, what hath become of thy prophecy?" Ouch. Talk about pressure.

Therefore, Miriam stayed. She watched. She waited. To see what would become of her little brother, and what would become of her prophecy. What a burden for a young girl to carry!

Miriam embodies faith, resilience, and the unwavering belief in a better future, even when all seems lost. The courage of a mother, the vision of a sister - this is a story not just of survival, but of hope. And it reminds us that even in the darkest of times, the smallest acts of faith and courage can change the course of history.

What prophecies are we holding onto today? And what are we doing to nurture them, even when faced with seemingly insurmountable obstacles?

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