Parshat Naso4 min read

The Women of Asher Who Interceded in Royal Courts

Kings sought out women of Asher as wives. The sages say those women used their position to plead for people already condemned to die.

Curated by Arthur · Told by Maggid ·
Table of Contents
  1. A Blessing That Became a Strategy
  2. Inside the Palace After the Sentence
  3. What Pagiel's Name Carried Forward
  4. The Names That Confirmed It

A Blessing That Became a Strategy

When Jacob lay dying in Egypt and gathered his sons to hear his final words, he promised Asher fat bread and royal dainties. It was the blessing of a man who had seen his son's portion and could name it in a few words. Asher would have abundance. The land would give generously. The table would be well supplied.

The tradition that surrounded this blessing found a sharper meaning inside it. Royal dainties meant access to royal tables. And the way that access was maintained, generation after generation, was through the women of the tribe. The women of Asher were beautiful in a way the sages described as extraordinary. Not merely beautiful when young, which was common enough. The older women of Asher surpassed the young women of other tribes in both fairness and strength.

Kings wanted them near. Courts made room for them. And inside those courts, the women of Asher used the access their beauty had purchased for something that had nothing to do with decoration.

Inside the Palace After the Sentence

The official case was already over. The court had spoken. A man had been condemned, a woman marked for execution, and the formal machinery of royal justice had concluded its work. No ordinary petitioner could reach the ruler now. The doors that had been open during the trial were closed. The advisers who had shaped the verdict had dispersed. What was left was a king alone with his household, and a sentence waiting to be carried out.

That was where the women of Asher stood. They had been placed inside the palace long before the verdict was rendered. They were present in the rooms that advisers did not enter after the public proceedings ended. They could speak when the king was no longer surrounded by the men who had counseled him toward severity. They pleaded for the afflicted. They pressed for mercy. The legend does not make them ornaments in a throne room. It makes them the last appeal available to people the public system had already finished with.

What Pagiel's Name Carried Forward

The same tradition that described the women of Asher as royal intercessors connected their work to the name of the tribe's prince at the Tabernacle dedication. Pagiel son of Ochran: the one who intercedes for the afflicted. The name had been given centuries before the women of Asher established themselves in the courts of foreign kings. But it described the same role. Asher, across its history, was the tribe that entered spaces of power on behalf of people power had condemned.

The Tabernacle offering confirmed what the women of Asher had been practicing. Intercession was not a side function of the tribe's abundance. It was the purpose to which the abundance was directed. The fat bread and royal dainties that Jacob had promised were the means. The pleading at the palace door, after the sentence, when no one else could speak, was the end.

The Names That Confirmed It

The midrashic tradition also located this pattern in the names of Asher's grandsons. Aaron's preaching in Egypt, his call to the tribe of Gad to turn back from the idol practices they had absorbed, produced repentance that was registered in a son who carried two names, a double identity, the mark of a man who had become someone different from who he had been before. The name change was a small version of what the women of Asher achieved in the throne rooms: a life turned around after it seemed fixed in one direction.


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Legends of the Jews 4:12Legends of the Jews

Prepare to meet the tribe of Asher.

The familiar version gives us beauty is in the eye of the beholder. But the legends surrounding the tribe of Asher in Legends of the Jews paint a picture of something truly extraordinary. So remarkable was this beauty, that even the older women of Asher surpassed the youthful girls of other tribes in both fairness and strength. Can you imagine the impression that made?

This wasn't just about looks. This exceptional beauty had real-world consequences, profound ones in fact.

In legends, kings actively sought out women from the tribe of Asher as wives. And these women, placed in positions of power, used their influence to intercede on behalf of those condemned to death. They became lifesavers, beacons of hope in the darkest of times.

This role of intercessor is even reflected in the name of the tribe's prince, Pagiel. That Pagiel means "the interceder." This isn't just a name; it's a evidence of the tribe's defining characteristic. His father's name, Ochran, meaning "the afflicted," further emphasizes this theme. The women of Asher, through their beauty and their position, consistently won grace for the afflicted. It suggests a deep connection between beauty, power, and compassion. It's not simply about being admired; it's about using that admiration to effect positive change in the world. It's about empathy in action.

The story of the tribe of Asher challenges us to consider the many facets of beauty and its potential for good. Perhaps true beauty isn't just skin deep, but a quality that inspires compassion, fosters justice, and ultimately, saves lives. What do you think?

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Legends of the Jews 4:11Legends of the Jews

Not just your parents picking something they liked, but names that carry a story, a destiny, a whole world of meaning within them. Jewish tradition is absolutely bursting with this kind of naming magic. Take the story of Benjamin, for instance.

The familiar version gives us Rachel, one of the matriarchs, and her heartbreaking story. As she was giving birth to her son, knowing that her own life was fading, she named him Ben-Oni, "son of my sorrow" or "son of my pain." It’s a raw, visceral moment. A mother's grief etched into a name.

The story doesn't end there. Jacob, the child's father, steps in. He renames him Benjamin. Now, Benjamin can be interpreted in a few ways, but the most common is "son of the right hand," symbolizing strength, good fortune, and favor. But Ginzberg, in Legends of the Jews, offers another layer, saying Jacob decreed that the name meant "son of might and of many years." Think about the power of that! A father countering a mother's despair with a blessing of strength and longevity. A conscious act of shaping destiny through language. The name Abidan, "my father decreed," son of Gideoni, "mighty hosts," reflects this event.

It really makes you think about the weight we give names, doesn't it?

Then there's the prince of the tribe of Dan, Ahiezer, son of Ammishaddai. Ahiezer means "brother of help," and Ammishaddai translates to "My people's judge." According to Legends of the Jews, his name is tied to the tribe of Judah during the erection of the Tabernacle. The tribe of Dan was allied with the tribe of Judah, and Judah was known for producing mighty leaders and judges. And, of course, Dan also produced a mighty judge in the person of Samson.

So, Ahiezer’s name becomes a kind of prophecy, a reflection of his tribe’s role and its future. It's like the name itself is a miniature history lesson, a reminder of alliances and potentials. What a beautiful and intricate story!

It makes you wonder about your own name, doesn't it? What story does it tell? What destiny does it hint at? Maybe there's more to it than you ever imagined.

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Legends of the Jews 2:6Legends of the Jews

It teaches us that names aren't just labels; they're prophecies, reflections of character, even echoes of history.

Take the tribe of Gad, for example. According to Ginzberg's Legends of the Jews, the names of Gad's sons offer a fascinating glimpse into the tribe's experiences during their time in Egypt. It paints a picture of a people who had, for a time, strayed from the path.

Then, something shifted. Aaron appeared, a prophet, a guide. He urged the Israelites to turn away from the "abominations of their eyes," to abandon the idols they had taken up in Egypt. And the tribe of Gad, well, they listened.

This act of repentance, this turning back to God, is reflected in a rather curious detail: one of Gad's sons actually has a double name, Ozni and Ezbon. Ginzberg interprets this unique situation as representing how this tribe "hearkened" to God's word (Ozni suggesting "ear" or "hearing") and fulfilled His "will" (Ezbon hinting at "understanding" or "purpose"). It's a powerful reminder that even when we stumble, we always have the opportunity to realign ourselves with our values, with our faith.

And what about the tribe of Asher? Their story, too, is woven into the fabric of their descendants' names. The grandsons of Asher are named Heber and Malchiel. Now, Ginzberg suggests these names are connected to the tribe's prosperity and status. Heber signifies that they were "associates" of kings, enjoying close relationships with royalty. Malchiel, on the other hand, suggests that their inheritance yielded "royal dainties" – the finest, most exquisite produce and goods. It speaks of abundance, of blessing, and of the respect they commanded.

So, what's the takeaway? Are these just interesting anecdotes, or is there something deeper here? Perhaps it’s a reminder that our actions, our choices, resonate through generations. That the stories we live today become the legends of tomorrow. Or maybe, just maybe, it encourages us to consider the meaning behind our own names, and the stories they might be waiting to tell.

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Bamidbar Rabbah 14:10Bamidbar Rabbah

In Jewish tradition, even the sequence of seemingly minor details can hold profound meaning. Take, for instance, the offerings of the princes in the Book of Numbers. Why does the prince of Asher offer after the prince of Dan?

Our sages pondered this very question. As we find in Bamidbar Rabbah 14, it's no accident. Dan, is associated with din – judgment. And Asher? His name suggests ishuro – confirmation. The Midrash (rabbinic interpretive commentary) beautifully explains that the Holy One, blessed be He, ordained this order because a judge must always confirm their judgment. It echoes the call in Isaiah (1:17): "Seek justice, confirm it for the oppressed." The confirmation is just as vital as the initial judgment.

There's more to Asher than just confirming judgment. Rabbi Tanhuma points out that Asher's name is linked to both the redemption and the praise of Israel. How so? Well, Malachi (3:12) says, "All the nations will praise [ve’ishru] you, as you will be a desired land." And (Psalm 144:15) declares, "Happy [ashrei] is the nation for whom this is so; happy is the nation whose God is the Lord." Asher, therefore, embodies the happiness and praise that come from choosing God.

Bamidbar Rabbah connects this to God's choice of Israel from all the nations, as Deuteronomy (14:2) states: "The Lord has chosen you to be His treasured people of distinction from all the peoples that are on the face of the earth." The prince of Asher’s offering, then, becomes a symbol of this divine selection.It included a silver dish weighing 130 shekels. What does this weight signify? According to our text, it corresponds to the seventy descendants of Noah and the sixty queens. These sixty queens? They represent the nations of the world. The text painstakingly lists the descendants of Ketura, Ishmael, and Esau to arrive at this number.

But why "dishes" [ke’arot]? Here, the Midrash offers a striking interpretation: the Holy One, blessed be He, disqualified them all. Ke’ara is even associated with leprosy, referencing the recessed spots described in Leviticus (14:37). And the "silver" [kesef]? That's linked to shame, hinting at the disgrace that awaits these nations.

In contrast, the "one silver basin" represents Israel, chosen and separated by God, as (Psalms 135:4) proclaims: "For the Lord has chosen Jacob for Himself…" The seventy shekels of the basin mirror the seventy souls of Jacob who descended into Egypt (Deuteronomy 10:22).

The offering also included "high-quality flour mixed with oil as a meal offering [leminḥa]." The Midrash interprets this as the prophets sent to both the nations and Israel. The Holy One, blessed be He, desired to give His Torah to all, as Deuteronomy (33:2) suggests: "The Lord came from Sinai, and shone from Seir for them, He appeared from Mount Paran."

But from all those nations, God chose only Israel, His "faultless dove," as the Song of Songs (6:9) beautifully puts it. Why? Because while the other nations rejected the Torah, Israel embraced it. This embrace is symbolized by the "one gold ladle of ten shekels, filled with incense." The incense represents their acceptance of Torah study and action, their declaration: "All that God spoke we will perform and we will heed" (Exodus 24:7).

The offerings continue: a young bull, a ram, a lamb, a goat. These correspond to the three crowns given to Israel: the crown of Torah, the crown of priesthood, and the crown of kingship. The goat as a sin offering symbolizes a good name, achieved through action. As our sages taught, study is not the principal matter, but action.

Finally, the peace offering of two bulls, five rams, five goats, and five lambs. The two bulls represent the Written and Oral Torahs, each vital in its own way. The three groups of five symbolize the priests, Levites, and Israelites, or perhaps the three types of greatness bestowed upon them: being a treasure, a kingdom of priests, and a holy nation.

The Torah emphasizes that the Holy One, blessed be He, specifically mentioned and lauded Pagiel's offering because He saw that he presented the offering in this perfect and thoughtful order.

So, what does this all mean for us? It reminds us that even the smallest details can be imbued with meaning. It urges us to seek understanding in the order of things, to appreciate the choices we make, and to strive for both judgment and confirmation in our lives. Just like Asher, we too can find happiness and praise in our connection to the Divine.

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