Parshat Vayera5 min read

The Ram God Created at Twilight Before the First Sabbath

The ram caught in the thicket at the Akeidah was not there by chance. Jewish tradition says it was created at twilight on the sixth day of Creation.

Curated by Arthur · Told by Maggid ·
Table of Contents
  1. The Angel Shouts and Abraham Looks Up
  2. Created Before the First Sabbath
  3. The Tradition of the Twilight Creations
  4. The Ram's Long Wait
  5. What This Does to the Story

The Angel Shouts and Abraham Looks Up

The knife is in the air. The angel calls Abraham's name twice, with a urgency the tradition has analyzed for centuries. Abraham stops. He looks around. And there, caught in the thicket by its horns, is a ram. He unbinds Isaac. He takes the ram. He offers it in his son's place.

It reads like the luckiest last-second rescue in all of scripture. The rabbis refused to let it be luck.

Created Before the First Sabbath

The Targum Pseudo-Jonathan on Genesis 22:13, an Aramaic paraphrase of the Torah compiled roughly in the seventh to eighth centuries CE, adds a single clause to the verse where Abraham sees the ram. Where the Hebrew simply reads and behold, a ram caught in a thicket by his horns, the Aramaic adds: this ram had been created between the evenings of the foundation of the world.

Bein ha-shmashot, between the suns. The technical rabbinic term for twilight, for the sliver of time between the end of the sixth day and the beginning of the seventh day of Creation. The last breath of the work-week before God withdrew into Shabbat. A threshold moment that the tradition identified as the birthplace of the miraculous: the items that were necessary for the world's story but that could not be made within the ordinary rules of the natural order were made in that last twilight.

The ram was made in that twilight. Before Abraham existed. Before Isaac existed. Before the commandment to go to Moriah was given. While God was still making the world, God made the substitution that Abraham would need four generations later.

The Tradition of the Twilight Creations

Pirkei Avot 5:6, compiled in the Mishnah around 200 CE, preserves a list of ten things created at twilight on the eve of the first Sabbath. The mouth of the earth that swallowed Korah. The mouth of Balaam's donkey that spoke. The rainbow. The manna. The staff of Moses. The shamir worm that cut the Temple stones. The tablets of the Law. The writing on the tablets. The graves of Moses. And the ram that Abraham would offer at the Akeidah.

The list is not arbitrary. Each item is something that the natural world could not produce on its own, something that required a direct intervention outside the normal rules of cause and effect, something that God needed to have available at the right moment. The list was made before the world was complete, in the last minutes before Shabbat closed the workshop.

The Ram's Long Wait

Between the sixth day of Creation and the day Abraham climbed Moriah, the ram waited. The tradition does not say where it waited or in what condition. It was simply prepared, available, caught in a thicket at exactly the right moment because it had been traveling toward that thicket since before the first Shabbat.

The horns of that ram become their own thread in the tradition. The left horn was sounded at Sinai, the great blast that accompanied the giving of the Torah. The right horn will be sounded at the end of days to announce the resurrection. The ram caught in Abraham's thicket has been echoing across Jewish history ever since, its horns still making noise, its purpose not exhausted by a single morning on a single mountain.

What This Does to the Story

The Akeidah in this reading is not a near-miss. It is not a test that almost went wrong and was rescued at the last second. It was a test whose resolution was guaranteed before the test began, because God does not test without also preparing the answer, and the preparation of the answer preceded the test by the length of all human history.

Abraham did not know this when he climbed. He raised the knife not knowing. That not-knowing is the whole point. He acted as if the outcome were not guaranteed. He gave everything. The ram was already there because God had already given back.


← All myths

From the tradition

Sources

5 sources

The texts this telling draws on, in full. Open a card to read inline, or expand it for a wider, quieter read.

Targum Pseudo-Jonathan on Genesis 22:13Targum Pseudo-Jonathan on Genesis

Abraham lifts his eyes and sees a ram caught by its horns in a thicket. In Targum Pseudo-Jonathan on (Genesis 22:13), the Aramaic adds the detail that places this animal outside ordinary time: it had been created between the evenings of the foundation of the world.

This is a reference to a famous tradition in Mishnah Avot 5:6, which lists ten objects created on the eve of the first Sabbath, at twilight, the borderland between Creation's six days and the seventh day's rest. Among them: the mouth of the earth that swallowed Korach, Balaam's talking donkey, Moses' staff, the manna, the rainbow. And the ram of Isaac.

The Targum of Pseudo-Jonathan is saying that the ransom for Isaac was not improvised. It was prepared before Abraham was born. Before Isaac was born. Before the world fully was.

Abraham does not hesitate. And Abraham went and took him, and offered him an offering instead of his son. The Aramaic word for instead of is chalaf, a substitution, an exchange. The ram dies in Isaac's place.

The Maggidim drew the principle for all generations: on Rosh Hashanah, when Jews blow the shofar made from a ram's horn, the horn remembered is this one. The takeaway: the way out was arranged before the trial began. When heaven asks you to climb the mountain, a ram is already waiting in the thicket.

Full source
Legends of the Jews 2:77Legends of the Jews

" Jewish tradition is rich with stories filling in those blanks, offering glimpses into the hidden corners of creation.

One such tradition speaks of ten things created in the twilight, that liminal space between the sixth day and the arrival of Shabbat (the Sabbath). a time out of time, a hinge connecting the work week to the day of rest. The Legends of the Jews, that incredible collection of rabbinic stories compiled by Rabbi Louis Ginzberg, tells us that these weren't just any ordinary creations. They were extraordinary, almost…pre-emptive.

What were these twilight wonders? First, there’s the rainbow, unseen until Noah’s time, a promise whispered into the very fabric of existence. Then, the manna, that miraculous food that would sustain the Israelites in the desert. There were also the water springs, anticipating Israel's thirst. And then we get to the truly powerful stuff: the writing on the tablets given at Sinai, the pen that inscribed them, and the tablets themselves, all waiting for their moment in history.

There’s more! The mouth of Balaam’s donkey (yes, that talking donkey!), Moses’ grave, the cave where Moses and Elijah found shelter, and finally, Aaron’s rod, already blossoming with almonds. Each item a seed of a future story, planted before its time. Isn't that incredible?

But what about the beings who would witness and celebrate this creation? Before the world existed, who was there to praise God? The answer, according to tradition, is that God created angels, the holy Hayyot (a special class of angels), the heavens, and Adam himself, all to sing His praises.

Now, during the week of creation, there wasn’t really a good time for a proper celebration. Everything was still… in progress. It was only on Shabbat, when all of creation rested, that beings on earth and in heaven could unite in song. As we find in Midrash Rabbah, all creation bursts forth in adoration when God ascends to and sits upon His Throne, specifically, the Throne of Joy.

Ginzberg elaborates on this scene, drawing from various midrashic (rabbinic interpretive commentary) sources: God has all the angels pass before Him – the angel of the water, the angel of the rivers, the angel of the mountains... the list goes on, encompassing every aspect of creation, even the angel of Gehenna (hell)!

Each angel, each division of the heavenly hosts, appeared before God "with great joy, laved in a stream of joy." They rejoiced, danced, and sang, praising the Lord with countless instruments. The ministering angels began, "Let the glory of the Lord endure forever!" And the rest of the angels answered, "Let the Lord rejoice in His works!"

Imagine the scene: 'Arabot, the seventh heaven, filled with joy and glory, splendor and strength, power and might, praise and jubilation. It's a harmony of adoration, a cosmic dance of gratitude.

What does it all mean? Perhaps it’s a reminder that creation isn’t just a one-time event. It’s an ongoing process, a continuous song of praise. And maybe, just maybe, we're all invited to join in that song, every Shabbat, every day.

Full source
Targum Pseudo-Jonathan on Genesis 22:9Targum Pseudo-Jonathan on Genesis

Stand where the Temple will stand and look down. In Targum Pseudo-Jonathan on (Genesis 22:9), the mountain beneath Abraham's feet is not virgin ground. It is the oldest altar in the world.

The Aramaic paraphrase gives the complete archaeology: Abraham builded there the altar which Adam had built, which had been destroyed by the waters of the deluge, which Noah has again builded, and which had been destroyed in the age of divisions.

Four generations of altar-builders. Adam first laid the stones on the spot where he had been formed from the dust, tradition identifies Mount Moriah with the site of Adam's creation. The Flood, taufana in Aramaic, washed it away. Noah rebuilt it after stepping out of the ark (Genesis 8:20). The Tower generation, dara di-palaguta, the age of divisions, scattered it again when humanity split into languages.

Abraham rebuilds it a third time. The Targum of Pseudo-Jonathan is connecting every major covenant to this single stone platform. The altar where Isaac will be bound is the same altar where Adam worshipped and Noah gave thanks.

Then the verse turns unbearable: and bound Isaac his son, and laid him on the altar upon the wood. The binding, akeidah, gives the whole chapter its name.

The Maggidim taught that some places in the world are saturated with worship across time. The takeaway: when you stand on holy ground, you are never the first. Altars remember, even when people forget.

Full source
Book of Jubilees 18:15Book of Jubilees

The ultimate test of faith, a moment of divine intervention, and the substitution of a ram in the nick of time. But where exactly did this all go down?

The Book of Jubilees, an ancient Jewish text that expands on the stories in Genesis, gives us a fascinating clue. It's a text not included in the Hebrew Bible, but it was preserved in Ethiopian manuscripts and offers unique perspectives on biblical narratives. Jubilees 18 retells the Akedah, the Binding of Isaac, with some interesting additions.

The angel, having stopped Abraham's hand, declares, "Lay not thy hand upon the lad, neither do thou anything to him; for now I have shown that thou fearest the Lord, and hast not withheld thy son, thy first-born son, from me." It’s a powerful moment of relief and confirmation.

Then, as the familiar story goes, Abraham looks up and sees a ram caught by its horns in a thicket. This ram, of course, becomes the substitute offering, spared Isaac's life.

But here's where it gets really interesting. Jubilees tells us that Abraham called that place "The Lord hath seen." So far, so good. But then it adds this intriguing detail: "so that it is said '(in the mount) the Lord hath seen': that is Mount Sion."

Wait a minute. Mount Zion?

Mount Zion, or Tziyon in Hebrew, holds immense significance in Judaism. It’s associated with Jerusalem, the Temple, and ultimately, the presence of God. To connect the Akedah directly to Mount Zion… that's a pretty big deal! The Akedah is a story about ultimate sacrifice, unwavering faith, and divine mercy. To locate this event on Mount Zion implies that this very spot, this place of near-sacrifice, is intrinsically linked to the holiest place on earth. The place where God ultimately chose to dwell amongst His people.

The Book of Jubilees, therefore, isn't just telling us a geographical location. It's weaving together themes of sacrifice, divine presence, and the very heart of Jewish identity. It's suggesting that the near-sacrifice of Isaac foreshadows the future holiness of Jerusalem and the Temple.

So, the next time you read the story of the Akedah, remember Mount Zion. Remember the Book of Jubilees, and the way it connects this pivotal moment to the very center of Jewish faith. It's a reminder that even in the most challenging trials, there is always the potential for redemption, for divine intervention, and for finding holiness in the most unexpected places.

Full source
Targum Pseudo-Jonathan on Genesis 22:14Targum Pseudo-Jonathan on Genesis

Before he walks down the mountain, Abraham offers one more prayer. In Targum Pseudo-Jonathan on (Genesis 22:14), the Aramaic paraphrase turns the Hebrew's terse place-naming into a full liturgical petition.

Abraham speaks: I pray through the mercies that are before Thee, O Lord, before whom it is manifest that it was not in the depth of my heart to turn away from doing Thy decree with joy. He wants heaven to notice his intent, not just his action. His obedience was not grudging.

Then the petition becomes intergenerational: when the children of Izhak my son shall offer in the hour of affliction, this may be a memorial for them; and Thou mayest hear them and deliver them.

Every future sacrifice on this mountain, every Passover lamb, every Yom Kippur offering, every priestly service in the First Temple and the Second, is to be heard through the merit of what Abraham did here today. The Targum of Pseudo-Jonathan preserves what will become a foundation of Jewish liturgy: zechut avot, the merit of the patriarchs, invoked to this day in the Amidah and the Rosh Hashanah service.

The verse ends with the Shekina, the Divine Presence, revealed on that mountain.

The Maggidim took this as a template for prayer. The takeaway: when you do something hard for heaven, ask that your children's future prayers be credited to what you did today. You are praying for generations you will never meet.

Full source