The story of Asenath, found in Legends of the Jews, gives us a glimpse into just such an experience.

Imagine this: An angel has just visited Asenath. Not just any visit, mind you. As Ginzberg retells it in Legends of the Jews, the angel departs in a blaze of glory – a chariot of fire pulled by four fiery steeds, soaring back into the heavens. Can you picture the awe, the sheer wonder Asenath must have felt? She knew then, without a doubt, that she had been in the presence of something…otherworldly.

But the story doesn't end there. Almost as soon as the celestial messenger vanishes, Joseph arrives. Asenath, eager to greet him, rushes to prepare herself. And here’s where it gets really interesting. As she washes her face, she sees her reflection and is astonished. The angel's visit has changed her, imbued her with a beauty she had never possessed before.

When Joseph arrives, he doesn't even recognize her! “Who are you?” he asks. Imagine the surprise, the confusion, perhaps even a little fear in his voice.

Asenath replies, "I am your maid-servant Asenath!" She explains that she has renounced her idols. She tells him of the heavenly visitor who offered her the "bread of life" and the "blessed cup." (We can’t help but think of parallels to later traditions here, can we?) More importantly, she reveals the angel's pronouncement: "I give thee unto Joseph as his affianced wife, that he may be thy affianced husband forever."

And then, a new name, a new destiny: "Thy name shall not any more be called Asenath, but thy name shall be City of Refuge, whither the nations shall flee for safety." Quite a change, wouldn't you say?

Finally, Asenath adds, "I go to Joseph, to tell him all these things that have reference to thee.' Now, my lord, thou knowest whether the man was with thee and spoke to thee in my behalf." She is essentially asking Joseph, did this angel visit you too? Did he confirm this divine plan?

This moment is so rich with meaning. It speaks to the transformative power of faith, the possibility of divine intervention, and the potential for even the most unexpected individuals to find a place in a sacred narrative. It’s a reminder that sometimes, the most profound changes come when we least expect them, leaving us almost unrecognizable to those who thought they knew us best. And it leaves us wondering, what "city of refuge" might we each be called to become?