Why Solomon Had to Trap the King of Demons to Build the Temple
Solomon needs the Shamir worm to cut the Temple stones without iron, so he sends Benaiah to capture Ashmedai king of demons, and later pays a terrible price.
Table of Contents
The Engineering Problem Only Demons Could Solve
Solomon had a building to finish and a law he could not break.
The Torah was explicit: no iron tool could touch the stones of the altar (1 Kings 6:7). Iron was the metal of weapons. The place where God would dwell could not be shaped by the same substance that shaped swords. Every stone for the First Temple had to be cut without a blade, split without a chisel, fitted perfectly without the sound of metal striking rock.
He asked the rabbis. They remembered something. At the dawn of creation, before the world settled into its ordinary rules, a small creature had been made whose power exceeded every substance known to the world. The Shamir. A worm no larger than a grain of barley that could split stone the way a hot blade splits wax. Moses had used it to cut the stones of the high priest's breastplate without metal. Nobody knew where it was now. The last person who had custody of it was the rooster of the hoopoe bird, which meant the last person who had the information was the king of the demons.
How Benaiah Captured Ashmedai
Solomon sent Benaiah, his captain, with specific instructions. Ashmedai came to a certain well on a mountain to drink. Benaiah drained the well and filled it with wine. When the demon king arrived and saw the wine, he knew a trap had been set. He refused to drink. Then thirst overtook reason. He drank. He fell asleep. Benaiah was waiting with a chain engraved with God's name, which was the one restraint Ashmedai could not break, and he bound the demon king while he slept.
The journey back to Jerusalem was a study in the peculiar logic of demon kings. Ashmedai refused to go around anything. He walked in straight lines and knocked over whatever was in his path. A palm tree a widow was weeping over, because a soothsayer had once told her it shaded her house and would outlive her, was torn up by the roots when Ashmedai's straight path intersected it. The logic was his own: a widow weeping for a tree while the king of demons passes is a misallocation of grief.
He saw a wedding procession and wept. He saw a man buying shoes to last him for years and laughed. When asked why, he explained. The groom would be dead within thirty days. The man buying shoes for years had only seven days left. What looked like occasion for joy was grief to the eye that could see ahead. What looked like a foolish purchase was the saddest kind of hope.
Solomon Catches the Shamir and Loses His Throne
When Ashmedai was brought to Solomon, the king kept him restrained and questioned him about the Shamir. The demon told him where to find it: with the Prince of the Sea, who had entrusted it to the wild rooster, who kept it sealed under his wing. A man went and watched the rooster's nest, covered the glass top with a lead sheet, and waited. The rooster returned and, unable to lift the glass to reach the young birds inside, brought the Shamir and placed it on the glass. The watcher shouted. The rooster dropped the Shamir in fright. The man took it. The rooster, according to the Talmud, then killed itself, because the guardian of a sacred trust that has been lost cannot survive the loss.
The Temple was built. The stones were cut with the Shamir, shaped without the sound of iron, fitted with a precision that matched the sanctity of the place.
The Day Ashmedai Threw the King Four Hundred Miles
After the Temple was finished, Ashmedai was still in Solomon's court. The king, who was wiser than any man alive, made the mistake of curiosity. He asked the demon king to show him what his powers actually were. He loosened the chain. Ashmedai grew until he was as tall as both his feet together, one foot planted on earth and one on heaven. He tore the king from his throne and threw him four hundred parasangs, the ancient measure of distance, until Solomon landed in an unknown country without his ring, without his throne, without anyone who knew who he was.
He wandered for years, saying to anyone who would listen that he had been king of Jerusalem, and nobody believed him. He was a beggar with a memory of splendor and no evidence that the memory was real. The ring that bore God's name, which was the source of his authority over the spirits, was gone. Ashmedai wore it on his own finger and sat on the throne, and whoever came to court thought they were speaking with Solomon, because the demon wore the king's face along with the king's ring.
Solomon came back in the end. The ring was recovered. The throne was restored. The Temple stood and would stand for four centuries. But the story the Talmud preserved remembered that the wisest king in Israel's history had touched the edge of demonic power to build the holiest building, and that the edge had touched him back.
← All myths