Jewish tradition offers some fascinating glimpses, and one particularly dramatic scene involves Satan himself getting a sneak peek at the Messiah.
The story goes that even before the universe existed, the idea of the Messiah already existed in God's mind. Think about that for a moment. Before stars, before planets, before anything, the potential for redemption was already there. After creation, God hid the Messiah, sheltering him under His Kiseh ha-Kavod, Throne of Glory, waiting for the perfect moment for his arrival.
Now, enter Satan. He approaches God and asks, "Master of the Universe, who is this light hidden under your Throne? Who is it intended for?" God replies, in no uncertain terms, "For the one who will turn you back and put you to shame!" Talk about a loaded statement!
Intrigued (and probably a little nervous), Satan pleads, "Master of the Universe, let me see him!" And God, in his infinite wisdom, allows it.
What happens next is truly remarkable. Satan gets a glimpse of the Messiah, and he's immediately shaken to his core. He falls on his face, overwhelmed, and cries out, "Surely, this is the Messiah who will cause me to be swallowed up in Gehenna!" Gehenna, often translated as hell, is a place of purification and judgment.
The Pesikta Rabbati tells us this story, and it really makes you think. It's a powerful image: Satan, the embodiment of opposition to God, utterly undone by the mere sight of the Messiah.
But the story doesn't end there. According to the Alphabetot, on the last day, Satan, ever the rebel, tries one last time. He attempts to renew his rebellion against God, even proclaiming himself to be God's equal, a partner in creation! His argument? God created the earth, but Satan created hell.
But here's the twist. The very fire of hell, the fire that Satan claims to have created, rises up and destroys him, putting an end to his rebellion and his boastful claims.
This idea of Satan being consumed by the fires of Gehenna ties into the verse in Isaiah (25:8), "He will destroy death forever."
It's interesting to compare this encounter between God and Satan to the opening of the Book of Job. In Job, there's a certain… collegiality, shall we say, between them. They have a discussion, a debate. But here, there's clear animosity. God isn't just engaging in a philosophical exercise; He's revealing the ultimate threat to Satan's power.
This structure of revealing a future event is also reminiscent of the story in the Talmud (B. Shabbat 88b-89a and B. Menahot 29b) where Moses asks to see Rabbi Akiba, a great sage who would live a thousand years later. God readily grants both requests, showing his mastery over time and destiny.
So, what does it all mean? Perhaps it's a reminder that even the most formidable forces of negativity are ultimately no match for the power of redemption. That even in the face of ultimate evil, there is always hope. And maybe, just maybe, that even Satan himself knows, deep down, that his end is inevitable.