And then, out of nowhere, we get a completely separate war story! Buckle up, because we're diving in.
First, let's set the stage. Levi, one of Jacob's sons, passes away at the ripe old age of 137. The Book of Jasher tells us he was put in a coffin and entrusted to his children. (Jasher 63:1) A peaceful end, right? But his death marks a turning point. With all of Joseph's generation gone, the Egyptians start to forget the good the Israelites had done for them during the famine. (Jasher 63:2, 5)
And you know what happens when gratitude fades? Oppression creeps in.
The Egyptians begin to "afflict the children of Jacob, and to embitter their lives." (Jasher 63:2) They seize the land and homes that Joseph had granted them. The once-favored Israelites become the abused underclass. We're told, "the Egyptians injured the Israelites until the children of Israel were wearied of their lives." (Jasher 63:3) It's a stark and painful picture of how quickly fortunes can change.
Then Pharaoh dies! (Jasher 63:4) A new one, Melol, takes the throne. But it doesn't bring relief. This new Pharaoh, like the new generation of Egyptians, doesn't remember Joseph's contributions. They only see the Israelites as a large, potentially threatening population. So, the oppression continues.
Now, here's a fascinating theological twist. The Book of Jasher tells us "this was also from the Lord, for the children of Israel, to benefit them in their latter days, in order that all the children of Israel might know the Lord their God." (Jasher 63:7) It's a classic example of finding divine purpose in suffering. The idea is that this hardship is meant to ultimately bring the Israelites closer to God, to remind them of their ancestors' faith, and to prepare them for the "signs and mighty wonders" that are to come during the Exodus. (Jasher 63:8) It's a tough pill to swallow, but it speaks to the enduring human need to find meaning, even in the darkest of times.
Okay, deep breath. Because now, we're shifting gears completely.
Suddenly, we're whisked away to a completely unrelated war. We're introduced to Zepho, the son of Eliphaz, who is himself the son of Esau. Zepho hears that the troops of Angeas, the king of Africa, are out pillaging in the land of Chittim – usually identified with Cyprus, though sometimes used more broadly to refer to the Mediterranean isles and coastal regions. (Jasher 63:10) Zepho, ever the warrior, goes out and wipes them out! (Jasher 63:11-12)
Well, Angeas isn't too happy about that, so he gathers an enormous army, enlisting the help of his brother Lucus. (Jasher 63:13-14) Zepho and the people of Chittim are terrified, and Zepho sends a desperate plea for help to the land of Edom, to the children of Esau. "Come help us, or we're all going to die!" he basically says. (Jasher 63:16-18)
But the Edomites refuse, citing a long-standing peace treaty that goes all the way back to the time of Joseph. (Jasher 63:19) So, Zepho is on his own.
Outnumbered and outgunned, Zepho turns to prayer. He cries out to the God of Abraham and Isaac, acknowledging Him as the one true God and asking for deliverance. (Jasher 63:23-25) And here's the key: "The Lord hearkened to the voice of Zepho, and he had regard for him on account of Abraham and Isaac." (Jasher 63:26)
God answers his prayer! Zepho and the children of Chittim defeat Angeas and his massive army, slaying hundreds of thousands of them. (Jasher 63:27-28) Even after Angeas tries to replenish his forces, Zepho prevails again! (Jasher 63:29-34) Angeas and his brother flee back to Africa in terror. (Jasher 63:35)
What are we to make of this sudden shift in narrative? It’s jarring, right? We go from the Israelites suffering in silence to a full-blown war narrative with different characters, different geography, and seemingly different stakes. Perhaps the inclusion of this story serves as a reminder that God's providence extends beyond the Israelites. Or maybe it's simply a popular story that the author of Jasher wanted to include.
Whatever the reason, Chapter 63 of the Book of Jasher leaves us with a lot to think about. The cyclical nature of oppression, the enduring power of faith, and the unexpected ways that deliverance can arrive. And it reminds us that even in the midst of suffering, stories of courage and faith can emerge from the most unexpected places.