Shalom and welcome. It is a true pleasure to sit and learn with you today as we delve into one of the most intriguing and sometimes unsettling corners of our sacred texts. You’ve asked about the origins and history of the giants in the Tanakh and beyond, a question that touches upon ancient myths, profound theological questions, and the very nature of the heroic journey of the Jewish people. These towering figures—the Nephilim, the Anakim, Goliath—are more than just antagonists in our stories; they are potent symbols that challenge our understanding of the world God created. To navigate this complex terrain, we will not only look at the famous biblical accounts but also seek wisdom from the unique ways our tradition approaches difficult questions. Our exploration will be guided by the interpretive tools found across the vast sea of Jewish literature. We will see how a legal distinction in the Talmud, from a passage in [Moed Katan:9], can provide an ethical framework for confronting fear. We will explore how the mystical utterances of the [Sefer HaBahir:17] and [Sefer HaBahir:22] can illuminate the primordial chaos from which these beings emerged. And we will even consider how the nature of scholarly communication, as hinted at in the kabbalistic letters of [VeZot LiYehuda:1] and [VeZot LiYehuda:2], reflects the way these powerful traditions are passed down through generations. This journey, then, is not merely about cataloging monsters. It is an exercise in Jewish thought itself. It is about learning to read our texts with depth, to find meaning in mystery, and to understand how our Sages wrestled with the very same passages that challenge us today. The giant, in Jewish thought, is rarely just a physical obstacle. It is a theological puzzle, a moral test, and a psychological barrier. By exploring their story, we explore the story of our own encounters with the overwhelming, the frightening, and the unknown. Contextual Foundation Before we encounter our first giant, it is essential to understand the landscape they inhabit. The world of the Tanakh is one of defined orders and sacred boundaries. God separates light from darkness, water from water, and land from sea. A clear distinction is made between the holy and the profane, the pure and the impure, and, most critically, between the Divine and the human. The figure of the giant, in its very essence, represents a violation of these fundamental boundaries. They are beings of chaotic mixture, of unnatural growth, and of a power that seems to stand in defiance of the proper order of Creation. Their presence in our narrative serves a crucial function. They often appear at moments of transition and testing for the people of Israel. They are the inhabitants of the land before Israel's arrival, the embodiment of the fearsome "other" that must be overcome. The spies' report in the Book of Numbers, for instance, focuses on the giants as the ultimate reason why the conquest is impossible. They are not just a military threat; they are a crisis of faith. To believe in the giants is to doubt God's promise. To confront them is to affirm that promise. Furthermore, the tradition does not speak with a single, monolithic voice on this topic. The initial, cryptic mentions in Genesis give way to more grounded descriptions of giant clans in Deuteronomy and Joshua, which then evolve into the larger-than-life legends of the Talmud and Midrash. This evolution itself is part of the story. It shows our tradition grappling with these figures, trying to understand their place in a world governed by a just and singular God. Are they historical remnants of ancient peoples? Are they mythological symbols of chaos? Are they the demonic offspring of fallen angels? The beauty of Jewish textual study is that the answer can be, in some sense, all of the above, as each layer of interpretation adds richness and depth. Our Sages teach us that the Torah has seventy faces, seventy modes of interpretation. When we approach a topic as strange as giants, we must be prepared to turn the gem and view it from multiple angles. The sources we will examine, even those that do not mention giants by name, provide us with the very intellectual and spiritual tools needed to turn that gem. They teach us how to think about the primordial past, how to evaluate fear, and how to honor the transmission of our most challenging traditions. Source Analysis The Primordial Disruption: The Nephilim of Genesis Our journey begins where the Torah itself begins its account of these beings, in the enigmatic passage of Genesis, Chapter 6, just before the story of the Flood. The text tells us that the "sons of God" (Bnei HaElohim) saw the "daughters of men" (Bnot Adam), took them as wives, and from these unions, the Nephilim were born. The text describes them as "the mighty ones who were of old, the men of renown." This is a story pregnant with mystery, a tale of boundaries breached between the heavenly and earthly realms. To understand this primordial event, we must first understand the world in which it took place—a world still taking shape, a world before the order of Torah law. A profound insight into this primordial state comes from a seemingly unrelated mystical text. The [Sefer HaBahir:17] asks a simple question and gives a world-altering answer: "Rabbi Amorai sat and expounded: Why is the letter א at the beginning? Because it was before everything, even the Torah." The Aleph, the first letter, represents a state of being that precedes the structured, ordered world of the Covenant given at Sinai. The story of the Nephilim belongs to this "Aleph-world." It is a narrative from a time of raw, untamed forces, before the detailed laws of the Torah came to regulate human and spiritual life. The giants are not an anomaly within the later, structured world of Israel; they are a feature of the chaotic, pre-Torah reality that made the Flood—and the subsequent re-ordering of the world—a necessity. They are what happens in a world that exists "before everything," when divine power is not yet mediated through covenant and commandment. This breach of boundaries is not merely a social or biological transgression; it is a cosmic one. It disrupts the very architecture of creation. Another passage from the same mystical work, [Sefer HaBahir:22], helps us appreciate the order that was violated. The text states: "All agree that none were created on the first day. It should therefore not be said that Michael drew out the heaven at the south, and Gabriel drew it out at the north, while God arranged things in the middle...." This passage, while debating the specifics of creation, underscores a core principle: creation is an act of arrangement, of putting things in their proper place. There is a celestial geography, with angels like Michael and Gabriel fulfilling their designated roles, and God "arranging things in the middle." The story of the Bnei HaElohim descending to earth is a catastrophic rejection of this divine arrangement. It is a scrambling of the cosmic map, a mixing of heaven and earth that was never intended. The Nephilim are the monstrous fruit of this disruption, a living embodiment of what happens when the beings of "the south" and "the north" abandon their posts and collapse the sacred order God "arranged in the middle." The Giants of Canaan: A Test of National Faith Centuries later, the giants reappear, but this time in a different context. They are no longer figures of a mythological past but a very present and terrifying obstacle for the generation poised to enter the Promised Land. In Numbers 13, the spies sent by Moses return with a report of a bountiful land, but their message is soured by fear. They claim to have seen the Nephilim there, the descendants of Anak, and in their own eyes, they "seemed like grasshoppers, and so we were in their eyes." Here, the giant is the ultimate test of faith. The question is not just whether Israel can defeat them militarily, but whether they can overcome the psychological paralysis of their own fear. How do we, as students of the tradition, evaluate the spies' report? Was it a legitimate warning, or a catastrophic failure of spirit? A principle from the Talmud offers a powerful lens for this question. In a discussion about what kind of work is permitted during the intermediate days of a festival, [Moed Katan:9] presents a crucial distinction: "The Gemara begins to clarify the underlying principle of the mishna, asking: Who is the anonymous tanna of the mishna who maintains that labor performed to prevent a considerable loss... yes, it is permitted on the intermediate days of a Festival; but labor performed to increase one’s profit... [is not]." We can apply this ethical logic to the spies. Was their report a form of labor intended "to prevent a considerable loss"—that is, to save the people from a suicidal military campaign? Or was it labor performed "to increase one’s profit"—in this case, the "profit" of avoiding a difficult struggle and returning to the familiar comfort of slavery in Egypt? The Torah’s condemnation of the spies, and God's subsequent decree that the generation would perish in the wilderness, makes the answer clear. Their report was not a prudent act to "prevent loss." It was a faithless act driven by a desire for personal comfort and security, a rejection of the divine promise. They chose the "profit" of inaction over the sacred duty of the covenant. The giants, the Anakim, thus become the catalyst for revealing the people's true spiritual state. The lesson, framed by the logic of [Moed Katan:9], is that confronting our "giants" is not an optional activity for "increasing profit"; it is a necessary labor to "prevent a considerable loss"—the loss of our destiny, our promise, and our very relationship with God. The Post-Biblical Giant: Og and the Power of Aggadah Beyond the Tanakh, the figure of the giant grows even larger, particularly in the case of Og, the king of Bashan. The Torah mentions him as a remnant of the Rephaim, a giant so large his iron bedstead was nine cubits long. But in the Talmud and Midrash, he becomes a figure of truly epic proportions. The Sages tell stories of him surviving the Flood by clinging to the side of Noah's ark, of him uprooting a mountain to hurl at the Israelite camp, and of his final, dramatic defeat at the hands of Moses. These stories, known as aggadah (narrative lore), are not meant to be taken as literal history. They are imaginative explorations of the text, designed to convey profound theological and moral lessons. How are such fantastical traditions, which seem so different from the legal and historical parts of our heritage, preserved and transmitted? The process is one of intimate scholarly exchange, a chain of tradition passed from teacher to student, from one generation to the next. This very process is hinted at in two brief but evocative lines from a kabbalistic work. The first, [VeZot LiYehuda:1], is simply titled, "A letter and this to Yehuda,". The second, [VeZot LiYehuda:2], clarifies its context: "A letter that Rabbi Avraham Abulafia sent to Rabbi Yehuda known as Shalmon:". These fragments open a window into the world of Jewish scholarship, where knowledge—especially esoteric and complex knowledge—is transmitted through personal communication, through letters exchanged between trusted colleagues. The wild and wonderful stories of Og, king of Bashan, are part of this living, breathing tradition. They are a form of "letter" sent across the centuries from the Sages of the Talmud to us. Just as Rabbi Avraham Abulafia shared his mystical insights with Rabbi Yehuda Shalmon, the rabbis of the Midrash shared their imaginative insights into the character of Og. They were not writing history; they were writing theology in the language of story. The transmission of these tales is an act of trust, a sharing of a part of our collective soul that is not reducible to law or fact.

References:

1. VeZot LiYehuda:1 - https://www.sefaria.org/VeZot.LiYehuda.1
2. VeZot LiYehuda:1 - https://www.sefaria.org/VeZot.LiYehuda.1
3. VeZot LiYehuda:2 - https://www.sefaria.org/VeZot.LiYehuda.2
4. VeZot LiYehuda:2 - https://www.sefaria.org/VeZot.LiYehuda.2
5. Moed Katan:9 - https://www.sefaria.org/Moed.Katan.9
6. Moed Katan:9 - https://www.sefaria.org/Moed.Katan.9
7. Sefer HaBahir:17 - https://www.sefaria.org/Sefer.HaBahir.17
8. Sefer HaBahir:17 - https://www.sefaria.org/Sefer.HaBahir.17
9. Sefer HaBahir:22 - https://www.sefaria.org/Sefer.HaBahir.22
10. Sefer HaBahir:22 - https://www.sefaria.org/Sefer.HaBahir.22