55 myths · Page 2 of 2
Crowds walked out past the walls to watch Nebuchadnezzar crop grass in the field. Daniel was the one man in Babylon who would not go and look.
A congregation told God there was nobody righteous left alive to lean on. God answered by naming three men who went into a fire in Babylon.
The small sanctuaries were chopped to kindling. No prophet could say how long. The prayer that was left accused heaven of doing nothing.
Solomon planted golden trees inside the Temple that bore real fruit. One king's idol made the whole forest die in a single afternoon.
Amos said God never moves without warning his prophets first. The sages took that one line and built a roll call of everyone who heard the secret early.
Three men stood unburned in the fire, and when the king cried that the fourth looked like a son of God, an angel came down and struck his mouth.
An old priest strikes the king's officer at Modin and hands his sons a war no army can win, and one son frees Judea only to fall on a deserted field.
A river cut Shushan in two. Daniel's grave sat on the rich bank, and the poor said that was why the money stayed there. They wanted the bier.
Bezalel is called by name before he lifts a tool, and a lady learns why wisdom is lent only to those who already know how to spend it.
For six months the palace showed off gold plunder, cup after cup. The Jews at the tables recognized the Temple vessels and put their food down.
Daniel's knees were still marked by the floor. The angel's voice was tired. Persia had held him at the gate, and Greece was already on the road.
Kings crowded in and spat until the three looked like a clod. The men who had walked out of the fire lifted their faces and claimed shame.
Edom rose as the terrible beast of Habakkuk and Daniel. From Edoms own ranks God raised Obadiah the convert, whose single oracle turned terror into verdict.
After Jerusalem falls, Baruch sees a cloud pour Adam's black waters and Abraham's bright ones. Ramiel names each flood until history itself becomes weather.
The ink on the king's ban was still wet when Daniel went upstairs. He knelt toward Jerusalem as if fire still lived on the ruined altar.
A calf may not climb the altar until Shabbat has passed over it. The king will not see a newcomer before the queen does, and the future is already planted.
Two guests stood in the square until evening. Only one door opened. The city had cisterns and bread and no milk for anyone but itself.
He added twenty-five years, then twenty-three, then five, and smiled. The cups from Jerusalem came out on the second night of Passover.
The king of Babylon planned to live inside a cloud above every nation. God answered by driving him down to grass, dew, and the company of beasts.
On the night God keeps watch, three friends walk into Nebuchadnezzar's fire while the same vigil that once split Egypt still holds the dark.
Solomon leaves his palace half-built for thirteen years while God's House rises in seven, stones lifting themselves onto the courses without a rope.
Two elders ambushed Shoshana in the vineyard, then unveiled her before the crowd and set their hands on her head for death. She looked only at the sky.
Gold, silver, bronze and iron carried into the desert sanctuary rise again as a king's dream idol, until a stone no hand cut grinds it to dust.
At the final reckoning the nations crowd in for Torah's wages, kick apart the one booth God grants them, and the whole account falls to a single line.
A king fells his cedars but keeps the thorns that hedge his vineyard, while Daniel eats only pulse ten days to refuse the king's table.
