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The Serpent Searched All Creation and Could Not Find Moses

Josephus made the case that Moses surpassed every lawgiver of the ancient world. Ben Sira said God raised him to the heights. The serpent of Eden feared him.

Curated by Arthur · Told by Maggid ·
Table of Contents
  1. The Case for Moses Against All Others
  2. Raised Into the Heights
  3. What the Serpent Knew
  4. The Creation That Recognized Him

The Case for Moses Against All Others

Josephus was writing for Romans who had just burned Jerusalem, for an audience that had watched the Temple fall and needed to understand what kind of people the Jews actually were, and what kind of lawgiver stood at the foundation of their nation. He did not approach this defensively. He attacked.

Every great civilization, Josephus argued, had its lawgivers. Solon for Athens. Lycurgus for Sparta. Rome's legal tradition assembled over centuries. And every one of them had failed the fundamental test: they did not live according to their own laws. They theorized. They legislated. They moved on. Moses did something none of them did: he kept every commandment he transmitted. He did not separate his life from his law. He was his own evidence for the system he built.

The goal of every lawgiver worth the name, Josephus continued, was to make the laws feel ancient and timeless, to convince a people that they did not invent these rules but received them. Moses succeeded so completely that four hundred years after his death, the people he had formed were still organizing their entire lives around the system he had built. No Greek or Roman lawgiver could point to anything comparable. Moses had not just written law. He had made it live inside a people.

Raised Into the Heights

Ben Sira knew a different dimension of the same man. Writing in Jerusalem two centuries before Josephus, the sage placed Moses not in the context of comparative governance but in the context of cosmic architecture. God honored him and made him holy. God made him hear His voice and led him into the cloud of darkness. Face to face. Command by command. The lawgiver did not receive the Torah the way a student receives a text. He received it the way a man receives something directly from the mouth of the one who made the world.

Ben Sira saw this not as biography but as status. Moses occupied a position in the structure of creation that no other human being before or after him was given. God elevated him into the heights of heaven. Not metaphorically. Structurally. The man and the law he carried were woven into the fabric of what exists above and below the visible world.

What the Serpent Knew

The ancient traditions that circulated about Moses in the centuries after his death sometimes turned on a detail that the Torah itself does not supply. The serpent of Eden, the tradition said, was still present in the world. It moved through creation looking for the one person who could threaten everything it had set in motion. It searched all of creation for the son of Amram, and it could not find him.

Not because Moses was hidden. Because Moses was protected by something that ran deeper than ordinary divine favor. The entire created order, the tradition said, recognized him. The angels in heaven acknowledged his authority. The creatures of the earth understood what he carried. The serpent, which had brought death into the world through one man's disobedience, understood that this man was the answer to what it had done, and it knew better than to approach him directly.

The Creation That Recognized Him

The tradition that positioned Moses at the summit of prophetic achievement was making a claim that ran in both directions from his historical moment. Not only had Moses surpassed every lawgiver who came after him, he had also been recognized by everything that came before. The stars that had been created on the fourth day acknowledged his approach. The waters that had been divided from the waters on the second day parted again at his command. The animals that had been named by Adam were led by Moses through the wilderness for forty years and none of them turned against him.

The serpent was the one creature that understood exactly what Moses represented and could not stand in his presence. The serpent had introduced death into the world through one human being's choice. Moses was the answer to that introduction, the man who descended from Sinai carrying the system by which a people could organize their lives around the antidote to what the serpent had started. The tradition that said the serpent searched creation for Moses and could not find him was describing a confrontation that had been structured into the world since the moment of the expulsion from Eden.


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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.

Against Apion 15:1Against Apion

It’s a question worth asking, because the answer might surprise you. those who create systems of order, who value living under laws, they're often seen as better, more virtuous people. Their goal? To make sure everyone believes these laws are ancient and timeless, not just some trendy new idea. They want to be seen as the originators, the ones who set the standard.

So, what makes a truly great lawgiver? Well, according to our source, it’s all about creating the best possible life for the people, convincing them to embrace those laws, and ensuring they stick to them, no matter what, through thick and thin.

The writer Flavius Josephus, in his work Against Apion, makes a pretty bold claim. He argues that our lawgiver, referring to Moses, of course, is the most ancient of them all. He says that figures like Lycurgus (Sparta), Solon (Athens), and Zaleucus (Locri), all these Greek legislators admired for their wisdom, are practically newborns compared to Moses. Josephus points out that even the concept of law was foreign to the ancient Greeks. He uses Homer as an example. The writer of the Iliad and the Odyssey never uses the word "law" in his epics. Back then, society was guided by wise sayings and the commands of the king, a system of unwritten customs that were constantly shifting and changing.

Moses? According to Josephus, he presented himself as the ultimate guide and counselor, shaping every aspect of their lives through his legislation. And, crucially, he convinced the people to accept it, to internalize it, to live it. Even those who criticize the Jewish people, Josephus notes, acknowledge the antiquity of Moses.

He didn't just give them rules; he gave them a way of life, a comprehensive system that aimed to create a just and righteous society. That’s a legacy that continues to resonate today, isn't it? It makes you wonder, what is it about these ancient laws that has allowed them to endure for so long? And what can we learn from them about creating a more just and equitable world today?

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Ben Sira 45:6Ben Sira

Ben Sira chapter 45 gives us a glimpse, a whisper of what it meant for Moses and Aaron to be elevated by God.

"And God honored him, and strengthened him in the heights." It begins with Moses. for a second. Honored. Strengthened. Not just on some earthly plane, but "in the heights." It paints a picture of divine empowerment, a soaring elevation beyond the ordinary.

"With his words, the letters He sped up, and He strengthened him before the king; and He commanded the people, and they saw His glory." The text continues, highlighting the power of Moses's words. And not just any words, but the words, the very letters of the divine communication. We see Moses standing before Pharaoh, strengthened by God, his words imbued with a force that commanded attention, a glory that even a hardened king could not ignore. It wasn't just about rhetoric; it was about the divine presence shining through.

"In his faithfulness and his humility, He chose him from all flesh." This is key: faithfulness and humility. It wasn't brute strength or worldly power that earned Moses his place. It was his unwavering devotion, his willingness to submit to a higher purpose, coupled with a profound humility. He was chosen not because of who he was, but because of who he strived to be.

And the intimacy of the divine connection deepens. "And He caused him to hear his voice, and He drew him to the thick cloud." Imagine that moment: standing at the foot of Mount Sinai, the mountain shrouded in a thick cloud, and hearing the very voice of God. As we find in (Exodus 24:18), Moses entered the cloud and was with God for forty days and nights. This isn't just about receiving instructions; it's about a profound, personal encounter with the divine.

"And He placed in his hand the commandment, the Torah of life and understanding; to teach Yaaqov His laws, and His statues and ordinances to Israel." The Torah, the Law, the very essence of Jewish life, placed directly into Moses's hand. This wasn't just a set of rules; it was a "Torah of life and understanding," a guide to living a meaningful, purposeful life, a gift to be shared with Yaaqov (Jacob), a symbolic name for the entire Israelite people.

But Moses wasn't alone in his divinely appointed role.

"And He raised Aharon, he the tribe of Levi, to holiness, and He placed him as an eternal law." Now we turn to Aaron, Moses's brother, elevated to the priesthood, a lineage blessed for generations. The text emphasizes his holiness, his separation for a sacred purpose. As (Numbers 25:13) states, Aaron and his descendants received a "covenant of perpetual priesthood".

So, what does all this mean for us?

These verses from Ben Sira aren't just ancient history. They're a reminder that we all have the potential to be "chosen" in our own way. Not necessarily to lead a nation or receive divine commandments, but to live with faithfulness and humility, to listen for the still, small voice within, and to strive to embody the principles of the Torah in our daily lives. To find our own "heights" where we are strengthened. Perhaps that’s the real message: not that only a select few are capable of greatness, but that greatness lies in the choices we make every day to live with purpose and integrity.

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Legends of the Jews 7:80Legends of the Jews

Legends of the Jews turns to The Serpent Searches Creation for Moses Son of Amram.

So, where does he begin his search? He starts with the tree of knowledge. Remember that tree? The one that bore the fruit of the knowledge of good and evil? He figures, surely, this ancient being must have seen MOSES.

"Hast thou seen the son of Amram?" he asks, dripping with venom, no doubt.

The tree replies, "Since the day on which he came to me to get a writing reed, wherewith to write the Torah, I have not seen him."

Wow. Even the Tree of Knowledge acknowledges MOSES' importance. He needed a reed from it to write the Torah! And the tree, despite its own history with deception, offers no help to the serpent. It's almost… respectful.

Undeterred, or perhaps even more agitated, the serpent turns to the mountains. Surely, they have witnessed the passage of this MOSES. These colossal, ancient formations, witnesses to millennia, must hold the answer.

"Have you seen the son of Amram?" he hisses at the silent peaks.

But the mountains echo the tree's response. "Since he hewed the two tables out of us, we have not seen him."

Again, the response is telling. The mountains acknowledge MOSES' profound impact. He carved the luchot (tablets) of the covenant from their very being! The tablets containing the Aseret haDibrot (Ten Commandments). Yet, they offer no further information, no clue to his whereabouts.

Finally, in desperation, the serpent slithers into the vast, unforgiving deserts. If anyone has seen MOSES, it would be the desert. The place where the Israelites wandered for forty years, led by none other than – you guessed it – MOSES.

"Have ye seen the son of Amram?" he demands of the shifting sands.

And the deserts reply, "Since he has ceased to lead Israel to pasture upon us, we have not seen him."

The desert's response is particularly poignant. It speaks of MOSES as a shepherd, a leader guiding his flock. He provided for them, even in the most desolate of places. And now, that presence is gone.

What are we to make of all this? The serpent's desperate search, the world's consistent, almost reverent, deflection? It highlights MOSES' unparalleled significance. He's not just a man; he's a force of nature, a figure whose actions resonate throughout creation. The tree, the mountains, the desert – they all bear witness to his impact, yet they guard his secret.

Perhaps the real lesson here is that true greatness, true righteousness, can't be found through malice or deceit. The serpent’s quest is doomed from the start, not because MOSES is hidden, but because the serpent’s very nature prevents him from understanding what he seeks.

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