It all starts with a bit of divine disappointment.
According to tradition, when the generation of the Flood went astray, God, in a moment of regret, wondered about creating humans in the first place. Two angels, Shemhazai and Azazel, piped up. They were the ones who initially opposed humankind's creation, reminding God, "What is man, that You are mindful of him?" (Psalm 8:5).
God countered, "Those who dwell on earth are subject to the Yetzer ha-Ra, the Evil Inclination. Even you would be overpowered by it." But these angels, confident in their righteousness, insisted: "Let us descend to the world of humans, and let us show You how we will sanctify Your name." So, God, perhaps with a touch of divine curiosity, gave them permission. "Go down and dwell among them," He said.
Big mistake. Huge.
As soon as Shemhazai and Azazel laid eyes on the beautiful daughters of men, they forgot their heavenly vows. They took lovers, defiling their pure essence. They taught women how to entice men, revealing dark arts of sorcery, incantations, and even how to divine with roots. Ginzberg, in Legends of the Jews, recounts these scandalous events.
Then came the fateful decision: the angels would choose brides. Azazel desired Na'amah, sister of Tubal-Cain, said to be the most beautiful woman on Earth. But Shemhazai set his sights on Istahar, the last of the virgins, and she refused him. This only intensified his desire. "I am an angel," he revealed, "you cannot refuse me!"
But Istahar was no pushover. "I will not give in to you," she retorted, "unless you teach me God's Ineffable Name"—the Tetragrammaton, YHVH.
Shemhazai hesitated. "That I cannot do," he replied, "for it is a secret of heaven." "Why should I believe you?" Istahar challenged. "Perhaps you don't know it at all. Perhaps you are not really an angel." Cornered, Shemhazai relented. "Of course, I know it," he said, and revealed God's Name.
Now, here's where the story takes a truly magical turn. As soon as Istahar heard the holy Name, she pronounced it and flew up into the heavens, escaping the angel's grasp!
And God, seeing her pure intentions, declared: "Because she removed herself from sin, let Istahar be set among the stars." And just like that, Istahar was transformed into a star, one of the brightest in the sky. As Schwartz points out in Tree of Souls, this fairy tale-like story explains so much: the identity of the Sons of God, the corruption they brought to Earth, and even the origin of giants!
Shemhazai, witnessing this divine rebuke, repented. He hung himself upside down between heaven and earth, a constant reminder of his transgression. But Azazel? He refused to repent. So, God bound him in chains and hung him upside down in a canyon, where, according to tradition, he remains to this day. This is why, on Yom Kippur, the Day of Atonement, a scapegoat is sent to Azazel, bearing the sins of Israel.
Of course, there are other versions of the story. Some say demonesses like Na'amah and Lilith corrupted the angels. Others say the offspring of these unions were the Nefilim, the giants of old. According to Zohar Hadash, when the angels descended, they acquired human form, and their offspring with human women were these "fallen beings."
Some even say that Istahar became one of the stars in the Pleiades, while Shemhazai, forever suspended, became the constellation Orion.
Isn't it fascinating how these ancient stories try to explain the big questions: the origin of evil, the nature of temptation, the power of free will? And how a single act of defiance, a refusal to succumb, can lead to eternal light? The next time you gaze at the night sky, remember Istahar, the star maiden, a beacon of purity and a reminder that even in the darkest of nights, there is always a path to redemption.