The stories we find in Legends of the Jews, that incredible compilation by Rabbi Louis Ginzberg, paint a wild picture of this throne's journey. It wasn't exactly smooth sailing for anyone who dared to sit upon it.
According to the tales, the throne didn't stay in Israel for very long after Solomon's reign. During the time of Rehoboam, Solomon's son, it was carted off to Egypt by Shishak, Solomon's father-in-law. Think of it as… collateral damage. Shishak claimed the throne as payment for debts he felt the Jewish kingdom owed his widowed daughter. (Ginzberg based this on 1 Kings 14:25-26 and 2 Chronicles 12:2-9.)
But Egypt wasn't the throne's final destination. Sennacherib, the Assyrian king, conquered Egypt and snatched the throne for himself. However, his victory was short-lived. As the story goes, on his way back home, his army was famously defeated before the gates of Jerusalem (as described in Isaiah 37), and he had to hand the throne over to Hezekiah, the righteous king of Judah.
So, the throne returned to Palestine, but only for a while. The narrative continues: in the days of Jehoash, Pharaoh Necho of Egypt hauled it back to the land of the Nile.
Here's where the story gets really interesting.
Pharaoh Necho, it seems, wasn't familiar with the throne's...quirks. According to the legends, it wasn't just a pretty chair. It had mechanisms, perhaps even magical defenses. The first time Necho tried to sit on it, one of the lion figures that adorned the throne injured him in the side. Ouch! He was left with a permanent limp, earning him the nickname "Necho the hobbler."
Next up: Nebuchadnezzar of Babylonia. He seized the throne during his conquest of Egypt. But his experience mirrored Necho's. The lion near the throne gave him such a wallop that he never dared to sit on it again!
From Nebuchadnezzar, the throne passed to Darius, who brought it to Elam. But knowing the history of injury and woe, Darius wisely decided to keep his posterior far away from it. Ahasuerus (the king of the Purim story, also known as Xerxes I) followed suit. He even tried to have his own artisans create a replica, but they couldn't match the original's craftsmanship – or, perhaps, its inherent dangers.
The legends don't stop there. According to Ginzberg, the throne then journeyed from the Median rulers to the Greek monarchs, and finally, all the way to Rome! What became of it then? The texts are silent.
What are we to make of this whirlwind tour of a legendary artifact? Is it just a fanciful tale? Perhaps. But it speaks to something deeper: the allure and the peril of power. Each ruler who sought to possess Solomon's Throne faced a test, a challenge to their own authority and wisdom. The throne, in a way, judged them as much as they sought to control it. And the story reminds us that true power isn't about possessing symbols, but about the wisdom and character to wield influence justly.