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Abram Was Fourteen When He Commanded the Ravens and They Obeyed

Before Abram left Haran, before he smashed his father's idols, he was a boy in a field commanding ravens to turn back. He did it seventy times in one day.

Curated by Arthur · Told by Maggid ·
Table of Contents
  1. Sowing Season in Haran
  2. Seventy Times the Ravens Turned Back
  3. His Fathers' Books in Hebrew
  4. The Agriculture He Invented

Sowing Season in Haran

The ravens came the way they always came at sowing season, dropping out of the sky in a dark mass toward the freshly scattered seeds. Every farmer in Haran knew the problem. The birds descended at planting time and ate what the ground had not yet swallowed, and there was no permanent solution, only the annual labor of standing in the field and driving them off, over and over, for as long as the planting lasted. The boy standing in the field that morning was fourteen years old, the son of Terah, working the land with his family during the six days that the Book of Jubilees specifies were given over to agricultural labor in the account it preserves of this period of Abram's early life.

When the dark cloud of birds descended, Abram did not wave his arms. He raised his voice and cried out: "Descend not! Return to the place whence ye came!" The ravens turned back. Every one of them. They flew back to where they had come from without taking a single seed from the ground where Abram stood.

Seventy Times the Ravens Turned Back

He did it seventy times that day. Not once in a moment of unlikely fortune, not twice in a way that might be coincidence. Seventy times: the number that in Jewish tradition signals completeness, the number of nations, the number of the elders who ate and drank and saw God on the mountain. Seventy times the ravens came and seventy times Abram's voice sent them back. Not a single seed was taken from the ground under his protection. Jubilees records this with the calm precision it uses for all the strange facts it preserves: it happened, here are the numbers, the record stands.

The Book of Jubilees notes the practical consequence: from that year forward, the people of Haran no longer feared the ravens. Whatever Abram had done in that field, it had changed something permanent. The problem that had always existed and never been fully solved was solved. The birds had been commanded, and the command had held, and the harvest that followed was the first in the memory of anyone present in which the ravens had not taken their cut.

His Fathers' Books in Hebrew

The same period of Abram's life, the six winter months when the fields were not being worked, was devoted to study. Jubilees preserves a specific detail that the Torah itself does not provide: Abram's fathers had left books, written in Hebrew, and Abram took those books and transcribed them. He did not merely read them. He copied them, which in the ancient world meant understanding them well enough to reproduce them accurately, the first step toward mastery rather than familiarity.

The books were written in Hebrew, Jubilees specifies, the language of creation, the language in which the world had been called into being. The angel who revealed these events to Moses noted: "I made known to him that which he could not understand." This is a quiet line in the text but carries considerable weight: Abram could not have understood these books alone. Divine assistance was required. The study was collaborative, a young man working through texts his ancestors had written, with an angelic presence filling in what the texts could not convey without help.

The Agriculture He Invented

Jubilees 12 places Abram in an even broader context than family inheritance. He taught the people of Haran how to farm in ways that addressed the fundamental problem the ravens represented. Before Abram, the account implies, the relationship between seed and bird was unresolved, a permanent vulnerability in the food supply of anyone who planted. After Abram's intervention, the work of agriculture could be done without that particular fear. The tradition credited him not merely with driving ravens away once but with establishing the knowledge by which it could always be done.

This is the picture of Abram before the call, before the covenant, before the names changed: a fourteen-year-old boy in a Mesopotamian field, reading his ancestors' books in the winter, commanding birds in the spring, establishing practices that would outlast him by generations. The call that comes in Genesis 12, "Go forth from your land," falls on a man who has already demonstrated, without being told to, the qualities that make him worth calling.

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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.

Book of Jubilees 11:31Book of Jubilees

Let me tell you a story from the Book of Jubilees, an ancient Jewish text that expands on stories from the Torah.

It’s sowing season. The time when farmers scatter seeds, entrusting their future harvest to the earth. Everyone’s out in the fields, working together, but also guarding their precious seeds. Why? Because ravens love to swoop down and snatch them up. And Abram, a mere lad of fourteen years, is right there with them.

The scene: A dark cloud descends – a swarm of ravens, hungry and ready to devour the freshly sown seeds. Disaster looms! But young Abram? He doesn't panic. He runs towards the approaching menace.

Here’s where the story takes a turn that’s pure Jewish folklore. Abram doesn't just wave his arms or shout. He speaks to the ravens. He cries out, "Descend not! Return to the place whence ye came!"

And here’s the kicker: They listen. The ravens turn back.

Can you believe it?

The Book of Jubilees tells us that Abram turned back the clouds of ravens seventy times that day. Seventy times! And not a single raven managed to steal a single seed in the land where Abram stood guard.

What does this story tell us? It's not just about a boy shooing away birds, is it?

It's a glimpse into the unique character of Abraham. Even as a young boy, he possesses an innate authority, a power of speech, a connection to the world around him that transcends the ordinary. He understands that words have power, that intention matters. That even the natural world responds to a righteous heart. We often see Abraham as the patriarch, the founder of a nation, the man who made a covenant with God. But stories like this, from texts like the Book of Jubilees, remind us that even the greatest figures start somewhere. They have moments, even as children, that hint at the extraordinary destiny that awaits them.

This small episode in the field becomes a powerful symbol. It speaks to Abraham's inherent ability to protect, to nurture, and to command respect, not through force, but through the sheer force of his will and the purity of his intention. Perhaps, in those fields long ago, he was already sowing the seeds of faith, the seeds of a legacy that would resonate for millennia.

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Book of Jubilees 12:34Book of Jubilees

It led him on a journey, not just geographically, but a journey of the mind and soul.

The Book of Jubilees, a fascinating text that expands on the stories we find in Genesis, gives us a glimpse into Abraham's early life, a period of intense study and revelation. It tells us, "And he took the books of his fathers, and these were written in Hebrew and he transcribed them, and he began from henceforth to study them..."

Young Abraham poring over these ancient texts, written in the very language of creation, Hebrew. But it wasn't just rote memorization. The text continues, "...and I made known to him that which he could not (understand), and he studied them during the six rainy months."

This is key, isn't it? It wasn't just about reading the words; it was about understanding them. It suggests a divine assist, a guiding hand helping Abraham unlock the secrets within those texts. Think of it as a spiritual download! Six months. That's a serious commitment to study! Six months of delving into the wisdom of his ancestors.

And what happened after that period of intense learning? Action.

The Book of Jubilees tells us, "And it came to pass in the seventh year of the sixth week that he spoke to his father, and informed him that he would leave Haran to go into the land of Canaan to see it and return to him."

He felt the urge to see this promised land. Not just read about it, not just dream about it, but to experience it firsthand. He needed to connect with it on a visceral level.

His father, Terah, understanding the depth of Abraham's quest, gives him a beautiful blessing: "Go in peace: May the eternal God make thy path straight, And the Lord [(be) with thee, and] protect thee from all evil."

"Go in peace." Lekh l'shalom. What a send-off. A father acknowledging his son's destiny, entrusting him to the divine. And notice the emphasis on a straight path. It’s a prayer for guidance, for clarity, for protection against the inevitable obstacles that lie ahead.

So, what can we learn from this brief snapshot of Abraham's early life? It reminds us of the power of study, the importance of seeking deeper understanding, and the courage it takes to follow our own inner calling. Are we willing to dedicate ourselves to understanding the wisdom of our ancestors? Are we brave enough to step out of our comfort zones and pursue our own promised lands, whatever they may be?

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Book of Jubilees 12:1Book of Jubilees

It is often remembered as a slow, gradual process. But what if I told you there's a story that credits Abraham with being the original agricultural innovator?

It’s a fascinating idea, isn't it? Our source today is the Book of Jubilees, a text not found in the Hebrew Bible, but considered sacred by some. It's an ancient Jewish writing that retells the stories of Genesis, but with some really interesting expansions and perspectives.

In Jubilees 12, we find Abraham, still known as Abram at this stage, doing more than just wandering the land. He's actively teaching people how to farm! The passage tells us "and they no longer feared the ravens." What does that even mean? Well, before Abram came along, ravens and other birds were a major problem. They’d swoop down and devour the newly planted seeds, making agriculture a very risky business.

Abram, in his wisdom, taught the people how to protect their crops. Specifically, it says, "And after this manner they made (vessels) above the ground on all the frames of the ploughs." It’s a little vague, but the idea is that he devised a way to sow seeds above the ground, perhaps in some kind of raised bed or protective container attached to the plows. This kept the seeds safe from the birds until they could sprout and take root. Pretty ingenious. “And they sowed and tilled all the land, according as Abram commanded them, and they no longer feared the birds." Notice the language here. Abram isn’t just offering suggestions; he's commanding them. This paints him as a leader, an innovator, and a figure of authority. He's not just a religious icon; he's a practical one, too.

The text continues, "And it came to pass in the sixth week, in the seventh year thereof, that Abram said to Terah his father, saying, 'Father!' And he said, 'Behold, here am I, my son.'" This is a small detail, but it’s important. It sets the stage for what's coming next in the Book of Jubilees: Abraham's growing spiritual awareness and his eventual break with his father's idolatrous beliefs. But before he becomes the father of monotheism, he's teaching people how to farm!

It really makes you think about the many-sided nature of our spiritual ancestors. They weren't just theologians or prophets; they were also problem-solvers, inventors, and community leaders. They were deeply involved in the practical aspects of life, using their wisdom and ingenuity to improve the world around them.

So, the next time you see a farmer tending to their crops, remember Abraham, the original agricultural innovator, according to the Book of Jubilees. It's a reminder that faith and action, spirituality and practicality, often go hand in hand. And maybe, just maybe, it’s a call for us to use our own gifts and talents to make the world a little bit better, too.

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Book of Jubilees 11:36Book of Jubilees

Book of Jubilees turns to Abram's Transgression.

It seems he was experiencing a moment of intense emotion, perhaps witnessing suffering or injustice. And here's the kicker: everyone around him saw him cry out, and even more strangely, all the ravens turned back. The text doesn't explicitly say why, but the implication is clear: Abram's cry was so potent, so filled with righteous feeling, that it affected even the natural world. As a result of this event, “his name became great in all the land of the Chaldees.”

What does this tell us? That even in ancient times, a person's reputation, their shem tov, their "good name," was incredibly important. And Abram's name wasn’t built on military conquest or political maneuvering, but on something far more profound: his evident empathy and connection to the world around him.

Then comes a shift. We move from the emotional and almost mystical to the practical. Those who wanted to sow their fields came to Abram for help. He went with them, guiding them until the sowing season was done.

Now, think about that for a moment. Here’s a man whose cry seemingly commands the attention of ravens, and he’s spending his time…helping people plant seeds? It's a beautiful contrast, isn't it? It shows that even those capable of great spiritual feats are also willing to get their hands dirty with the everyday needs of their community.

And the result? "They brought enough grain home and ate and were satisfied." Basic sustenance, yes, but also a evidence of the power of community and shared effort. Abram’s involvement clearly brought success. Whether that’s through divine blessing or simply through his practical wisdom, the text doesn’t say. It’s left to us to ponder.

But the story doesn't stop there. In the "first year of the fifth week" – a calendrical detail typical of Jubilees – Abram starts teaching people how to improve their farming tools. Specifically, he instructs those who make implements for oxen, the "artificers in wood," to create a special vessel to hold the seeds.

This vessel, placed above the ground and connected to the plough, would allow the seeds to fall directly into the earth as the plough tilled the soil. Think of it as an early form of a seed drill! No more scattering seeds by hand, a much more efficient and precise method.

What's so significant about this seemingly small detail? It highlights Abram's ingenuity and his commitment to improving the lives of those around him. He wasn't just a spiritual leader; he was also an innovator, a problem-solver, a man who understood the importance of both the spiritual and the practical.

So, what can we take away from this brief passage in the Book of Jubilees? Perhaps it’s this: that true greatness lies not just in grand pronouncements or miraculous events, but in the quiet, everyday acts of compassion, innovation, and community building. Abram, the man who would become Abraham, shows us that even small improvements, like a better way to sow seeds, can have a profound impact on the world. And sometimes, all it takes is a cry from the heart to set the stage for something truly remarkable.

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