5 min read

The Letter Yod Sued Solomon Before the Throne

When Solomon shrugged at the ban on many wives, the tiny letter yod sued before God, and Pharaoh mocked Moses for arriving without a crown.

Curated by Arthur · Told by Maggid ·
Table of Contents
  1. The Wisest Man Shrugged
  2. The Yod Goes to Court
  3. Pharaoh Counts Crowns
  4. Death and Life in One Mouth
  5. Scarlet Lips at the Sea
The Letter Yod Sued Solomon Before the Throne Click for full size

The Wisest Man Shrugged

Solomon knew the verse the way a man knows a door he has decided not to lock. The king shall not multiply wives, nor horses, nor silver and gold. He read it, weighed it against his own confidence, and shrugged. "I will multiply, and my heart will not turn." Busyness that was never necessary pressed him from every side. Oppression makes a wise man foolish, Kohelet said, and the oppression here was a calendar full of errands heaven never assigned, marriages that sealed treaties, stables that flattered neighbors, treasuries that sang when they should have been silent.

Rabbi Hiyya bar Abba sighed across the generations: better he had raked sewers than earned that fall. Many wives turned his heart in old age the way a slow leak turns a beam soft. The warning had been plain. The shrug had been louder than the warning. Wisdom that will not obey becomes a kind of cleverness that still ends in a ruined house.

The Yod Goes to Court

A letter rose. The tiny yod of the commandment prostrated itself before the Holy One, smaller than a fingernail, larger than a king's excuse. "Have You written one letter of Your Torah in vain?" Deuteronomy itself ascended, the whole scroll crying that Solomon sought to uproot a yod from its place as if a consonant could be bargained out of existence by a crown.

The throne room of letters is not polite. Ink has no court manners. The Holy One answered with a life-oath that made the air hard. By your life, Solomon and a hundred kings like him will pass away, but not one letter shall be nullified. Crowns rust and get melted for the next head. Ink does not negotiate with charm or with IQ.

The wisest mouth on earth had less standing than a consonant the size of a thorn. Solomon's shrug met a lawsuit it could not settle with gold.

Pharaoh Counts Crowns

Another court, earlier and crueler, had already measured men by gifts that shone. When Moses and Aaron came before Pharaoh on the day monarchs brought crowns to the ruler of the world, the two elders stood at the gate empty-handed, staffs for tools, no metal for flattery. "No crowns?" said Pharaoh. "Let them enter last." The queue of kings glittered. The two Hebrews waited like an insult the palace had not yet decoded.

When they spoke God's demand, "Send out My people," Pharaoh sneered with the ease of a man who has never been refused by a river. "Who is the Lord, that He sends no crown, only words?" He could not hear a kingdom that traveled in speech. He only knew metal that bowed and flesh that bled on command.

Words would break his river. Crowns would not save him. The empty hands at the gate were not poverty. They were a different treasury.

Death and Life in One Mouth

"Death and life are in the power of the tongue" (Proverbs 18:21). Aquila pictured a soldier's spoon-knife: one edge feeds, one edge cuts, the same tool deciding which end of the day a man gets. Bar Sira saw a coal on a hearth: blow and it burns a house, spit and it dies into ash. Rabbi Yanai spoke of an untithed loaf still warm from the oven. Name it wrongly, eat it wrongly, and the tongue has already chosen a side before the teeth begin.

Solomon's shrug was a tongue-act with a kingdom's weight behind it. Pharaoh's sneer was a tongue-act with an empire's confidence. Moses' demand was a tongue-act that carried a people through water. The same organ that multiplies vows can nullify a letter or refuse to. Heaven sides with the letter, not with the shrug, not with the sneer.

A basket of figs, a seam of tzitzit, a word of sale: the midrash keeps returning to small mouths making large fates.

Scarlet Lips at the Sea

Later the Song would praise lips like a scarlet thread and speech that is lovely, a temple like a pomegranate slice behind the braid. The midrash heard the song at the sea, "Then sang Moses and the children of Israel" (Exodus 15:1), and the cry, "This is my God and I will glorify Him" (Exodus 15:2), fingers pointing at a Presence no crown could buy. Beautiful speech is not flattery of a king who wants gifts on his reception day. Beautiful speech is a people naming God after water stands like walls and a tyrant's horses learn to drown.

Solomon began in that lineage of song and ended arguing with a yod. Pharaoh began counting gold and ended under a Name that needed no gift at the gate. Between them the tongue kept its double edge, and the smallest letter kept its case open forever, still prostrate, still winning.


← All myths

From the tradition

Sources

3 sources

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.

Midrash Tanchuma Buber, Vaera 2:2Midrash Tanchuma Buber, Vaera

Translation of the source text.Midrash Tanchuma (Buber), Public Domain, on Sefaria · CC-BY-SA

Another interpretation: "For oppression makes a wise man foolish" (Ecclesiastes 7:7). The dealings in which Solomon engaged, with matters that were not necessary, led him astray, as it is said, "And it came to pass, when Solomon was old, [his wives turned away his heart after other gods]" (I Kings 11:4). Rabbi Hiyya bar Abba said: It would have been better for him had he raked out gutters, and this verse had not been written about him.

And what are these matters? "The words of Agur son of Jakeh, the burden; [the utterance of the man to Ithiel, to Ithiel and Ucal]" (Proverbs 30:1). Why was his name called Agur? Because he gathered up the Torah. "Son of" (ben), because he understood it (bin). "Jakeh" (Yakeh), because he disgorged it (heki). What is "to Ithiel" (le-Iti'el)? That the Holy One, blessed be He, wrote in His Torah, "He shall not multiply wives for himself" (Deuteronomy 17:17), so that his heart not turn away. Solomon said: I will multiply, and I do not fear that his heart will turn away.

Rabbi Joshua ben Levi said: The yod went up and prostrated itself before the Holy One, blessed be He. It said before Him: Master of the World, have You written one letter in Your Torah in vain? Rabbi Simeon ben Yohai taught: The book of Deuteronomy went up before the Holy One, blessed be He. It said before Him: Master of the World, here is Solomon seeking to uproot a yod from me, for You wrote in me, "He shall not multiply horses for himself," "He shall not multiply wives for himself," "and silver and gold he shall not greatly multiply for himself" (Deuteronomy 17:16–17).

Whence did he multiply horses? As it is said, "And Solomon had forty thousand stalls of horses" (I Kings 5:6). Whence did he multiply wives? As it is said, "And he had seven hundred wives, princesses" (I Kings 11:3). He multiplied silver and gold, as it is said, "And the king made silver [as plentiful in Jerusalem as stones]" (I Kings 10:27). The Holy One, blessed be He, said to it: By your life, Solomon and a hundred like him shall be nullified, but one letter shall not be nullified. And what caused Solomon to come to this? The dealing with matters in which there was no need. Thus, "For oppression makes a wise man foolish."

And do not say Solomon alone, but even Moses, at the hour when he went to Pharaoh. What is written? "And afterward Moses and Aaron came [and said to Pharaoh]" (Exodus 5:1). Rabbi Hiyya bar Rabbi Abba said: It was Pharaoh's reception day, and all the kings came and crowned him, for he was the mighty ruler of the world. And Moses and Aaron were standing at the palace gate. They came in to Pharaoh and said to him: Two elders are standing at the gate of your palace. He said to them: Are there crowns in their hands? They said to him: No. He said to them: Let them come last. They came in to Pharaoh. He said to them: What do you seek? They said to him: "The Lord, the God of the Hebrews, has sent us to you," and He said to us that we should say to you, "Send out My people that they may serve Me in the wilderness" (Exodus 7:16). He said to them, "Who is the Lord that I should heed His voice?" (Exodus 5:2), and He did not know enough to send me a crown of His own, but comes to me with words. "Who is the Lord that I should heed His voice?"

Full source
Vayikra Rabbah 33:1Vayikra Rabbah

Retold in our words. Read the original at the link below.The Sefaria Midrash Rabbah, 2022 · CC-BY

It’s a powerful thing to consider. The ancient sages certainly thought so.

Our story today comes from Vayikra Rabbah, a collection of rabbinic interpretations on the Book of Leviticus. It all starts with a seemingly simple verse from (Leviticus 25:1): “The Lord spoke to Moses at Mount Sinai, saying…if you sell a sale item to your counterpart, you shall not wrong one another.” But this isn't just about fair business; it’s about something deeper.

The text immediately pivots, quoting (Proverbs 18:21): “Death and life are in the power of the tongue. How are buying and selling, and the power of speech connected? The midrash, the interpretive tradition, teases out that very connection.

Aquila, a translator of the Hebrew Bible into Greek, offered an interesting take on that Proverb. He used the image of a “spoon-knife” – a tool used by soldiers that had a knife on one side and a spoon on the other, according to Rabbi David Luria. Death from one side, life from the other. One side feeds, the other destroys.

Bar Sira continues the theme, saying, “If one has a coal before him, if he blows on it, it burns; if he spits on it, it is extinguished.” With a single breath, you can fuel a fire or put it out. It's all about how you use what you have.

The Rabbis then offer practical examples. Rabbi Yanai speaks of an untithed loaf of bread. In ancient Israel, a portion of the harvest had to be set aside as a tithe. Eating it before giving that offering? Death is in the power of the tongue, he says. But if you tithe it first, then you receive life. Rabbi Ḥiyya bar Abba makes the same point with a basket of figs. What does this mean? Perhaps it is a metaphor for not taking what is not rightfully yours, or perhaps it is a metaphor for how we approach life in general.

Then comes a story about Rabbi Shimon ben Gamliel and his servant, Tavi. Rabbi Shimon asks for a good cut of meat, and Tavi brings him tongue. Then he asks for a bad cut, and Tavi brings him tongue again! Confused, Rabbi Shimon asks for an explanation. Tavi replies, "Good comes from it and bad comes from it. When it is good, there is nothing better than it. When it is bad, there is nothing worse than it.”

Rabbi [Yehuda HaNasi], the compiler of the Mishnah (the earliest code of rabbinic law), takes this lesson to heart. He sets out soft and hard tongues at a feast for his disciples, who naturally choose the soft ones. He then gently admonishes them: “Know what you are doing; just as you are selecting the soft and leaving the hard, so your tongues should be soft toward one another.”

So how does this all circle back to our opening verse about selling and not wronging one another? Vayikra Rabbah connects it beautifully. The verse concludes "you shall not wrong one another" and is repeated again later in Leviticus (25:17). The Sages interpreted one verse as prohibiting financial exploitation, and the other as prohibiting verbal abuse (as discussed in Bava Metzia 58b).

They can create or destroy, heal or wound. We must be mindful of the power we wield with our tongues, choosing to speak with kindness and integrity, especially in our interactions with others. It's not just about fair transactions; it's about building a world where our words bring life, not death.

Full source
Shir HaShirim Rabbah 3:1Shir HaShirim Rabbah

Retold in our words. Read the original at the link below.The Sefaria Midrash Rabbah, 2022 · CC-BY

Take this one, from (Song of Songs 4:3): “Your lips are like a scarlet thread, and your speech is lovely; your temple is like a pomegranate slice behind your braid.”

What does it even mean?

Well, that's where the Rabbis come in. They saw in this verse not just a description of physical beauty, but a reflection of the spiritual beauty of the Jewish people, particularly as revealed in the story of the Exodus from Egypt. Shir HaShirim Rabbah, the rabbinic commentary on Song of Songs, unpacks this verse layer by layer, revealing hidden depths.

"Your lips are like a scarlet thread," the verse begins. Shir HaShirim Rabbah connects this crimson image to the triumphant song the Israelites sang after crossing the Red Sea: "Then sang Moses and the children of Israel" (Exodus 15:1). That moment of liberation, of collective joy and praise, is what gives the lips their vibrant color. It's not just about physical appearance; it's about the power of song, the power of gratitude, and the power of shared experience.

And the verse continues: “Your speech is lovely [naveh].” Here, the Rabbis draw a brilliant connection to the verse that immediately follows the song: “This is my God and I will glorify Him [ve’anvehu]” (Exodus 15:2). The word naveh, "lovely," is linked to ve’anvehu, "and I will glorify Him." But it's more than just a linguistic connection. The Rabbis see in the Israelites' declaration – pointing with their fingers, overcome with emotion – the ultimate expression of beautiful speech. It's speech filled with faith, with love, with a profound connection to the Divine. This wasn't just poetry; it was a moment of pure, unadulterated revelation.

Then comes the image of the pomegranate: “Your temple [rakatekh] is like a pomegranate slice.” Rakatekh, often translated as "temple," is here interpreted as a reference to the entire community. Moses, in this interpretation, praises the people: "Even the empty [hareikan] among you is packed with mitzvot (commandments) like this pomegranate." Think about a pomegranate – bursting with seeds, each one a tiny jewel. The Rabbis are saying that even those who might seem less observant, less outwardly pious, are still filled with good deeds, with potential, with a deep-seated commitment to Jewish life. Every single person counts, every single person contributes to the richness and fullness of the community. What a powerful message of inclusion!

And finally, "Behind your braid [letzamatekh]" speaks to the modest and the fervent [metzumatin] among the people. This suggests that true beauty lies not just in outward appearance, but in inner qualities like humility and dedication. The braid, a symbol of modesty, conceals and reveals at the same time. It hints at a deeper, more profound beauty that comes from living a life of purpose and meaning.

So, what do we take away from all this? The Rabbis, through their ingenious interpretations, transformed a seemingly simple love poem into a powerful statement about the Jewish people, their history, and their relationship with God. It's a reminder that beauty exists not just on the surface, but in the depths of our actions, our words, and our intentions. And that every single one of us, like a seed in a pomegranate, has something valuable to contribute.

Full source