Elijah in the Legends

Note: This article has been excerpted from a larger work in the public domain and shared here due to its historical value. It may contain outdated ideas and language that do not reflect TOTA’s opinions and beliefs.

From Stories From the Rabbis by Abram S. Isaacs, 1893.

The form of Elijah the prophet rises out of the Jewish past with all the ruggedness and grandeur of Mount Carmel, with which his name and character are indissolubly associated. Few heroes of the Bible appeal so irresistibly to the Jewish popular imagination, and are stamped with such peculiar genius.

The mystery which surrounds his birth, education, and family, the suddenness with which Scripture introduces him, the intense enthusiasm that marked the beginning of his missionary work, the dangers to which he was exposed, the miraculous events in which he figures, his undaunted courage and fiery zeal, would be sufficient to crown him with a certain halo of romance. But when, as a fit complement to his earthly career, one considers the circumstances connected with his disappearance from earth, it is natural that he should be regarded as one of Scripture's most picturesque personages—just the character to be seized upon in later centuries by legend and parable, and to survive for ages in national folk-lore.

One caution is to be exercised, however, in our judgment of the post-Biblical legends in which Elijah assumes so prominent a role. As is true of rabbinical legends respecting other Biblical worthies and the rabbis of the Talmud themselves, so in the case of Elijah, it is not to be asserted that the people and their teachers believed in every hyperbolic allusion to the prophet. We distort rather than interpret the Talmud, if we fail to make due allowance for the fountain-play of Oriental metaphor. In its stories and parables, its ever -winding stream of hagadah, we see reproduced the arabesque in art—"a magic complexity of ornament," where "the restlessly roving fancy and the speculative understanding find their pride and satisfaction," as Lübke states it.

That genius for rationalism and keen critical inquiry which, despite rabbinical reverence for tradition, is at the basis of the Talmud, makes me reluctant to maintain that the historical character of the rabbinical legends about Elijah was ever an article of faith. They are so varied, and present the prophet in such quick and sudden transformation scenes, that one is forced to the conclusion that here we have to deal with texts, not flesh and blood. It is the Elijah of homilies and exegesis, weird and shadowy, embodying the mystic, philosophic ideas of the schools—a theological finger-post, so to speak—which meets one. in the luxuriant gardens of rabbinical fancy.

So deeply did these legends impress the susceptible popular mind, being largely associated with themes of theosophic and supernatural grandeur, personal and national resurrection, and the realms of the world to come, that they acquired a certain sanctity and permanence of their own which defied analysis and criticism. They are undoubtedly on a higher grade than the Solomonic legends.

It is more than burlesque and pantomime. Here is no stage-fire; here no gaudy transformation scenes, with the resources of the juggler's art and witchery. We are brought face to face with solemn mysteries of life and death and immortality—the problems that ever exercise so profound an influence and fascination. The rabbis trace a resemblance between Moses and Elijah. The one ascended Mount Sinai, the other Mount Carmel. Both were prophets. Both condemned idolatry. There was the same mystery about their passing away; both disappeared, rather than died. Still another similarity was noticed: no one knows their sepulchre.

The act of Elijah in offering sacrifices on Mount Carmel against Moses' express command to offer only in Jerusalem, is explained as justifiable on the ground of its being a work of necessity. The rabbis discern in Phinehas who slew Zimri a type of Elijah; in both cases the same zeal and courage can be observed. Elijah's twofold invocation (1 Kings xviii. 37), "Hear me! Hear me!" was to show that he employed no sorcery.

Rabbinical skepticism, which denied the historical character of Job and saw in the book that bears his name only "a parable," doubted, as well, the ascension of Moses and Elijah. All opinions are recorded in the Talmud: Jewish thought was never stagnant nor one-sided.

In the rabbinical legends, Elijah is a man of peace—a gentle messenger, who preaches a religion of love and humanity. With all the tenderness of a modern saint, he comforts in affliction, he warns of danger, he exhorts to repentance. But none the less emphatically does he condemn sin and show how sin may be atoned. He is quick to give counsel; he promotes peace between man and wife; he acts as referee in legal cases; he pronounces judgment; doubtful matters await his decision, and he reveals secrets. As a further prerogative, he leads into Paradise. To protect the afflicted, too, is his special duty. Nor does he shirk any disguise or labor to achieve his object, but will appear now as a simple man, and now in the attire of a Roman officer; here as a wandering Arab, and here mounted on a horse.

At some of the academies he would attend as an ordinary student and modestly join in the discussions. He takes Rabbi Joshua ben Levi in hand—a famous character of his day—and shows him his future abode in Paradise. Not satisfied with such a mark of favor, after that rabbi's death he introduces him to his colleagues in the better world.

There is little doubt that Elijah's prominence is largely due to the character assigned him by tradition as forerunner of the Messiah. His reappearance on earth, foretold by Malachi, is associated with the Messianic era. The Targum Jonathan mentions. this privilege of Elijah's, "the great priest who is to be sent at the end of the captivity " (Targ. Jon. to Ex. xl. 10). The Mishna asserts the same (in Eduyoth viii); and so popular became the belief, that in the Gospel narrative (Mark vii., viii., and elsewhere), we find Jesus mistaken for Elijah as the forerunner of the Messiah.

A good deal of activity is marked out for Elijah. On his reappearance upon earth, his first work will be to summon Israel, and collect the scattered tribes, with Messiah, son of Joseph, at their head, leading them to Palestine, to fight against Æmilus, the pseudo-Messiah. Then he will arouse the dead, bring Messiah, the son of David, and restore to the Temple of Jerusalem the Shekinah and the Ark, which had been committed to his (Elijah's) care by Jeremiah at its destruction.

It can readily be seen to what extravagant views these legends may give rise in the literature of eschatology. Among the Jews Elijah is not canonized: there are no saints in the Jewish calendar. In the Latin and Greek churches he received such honors and became the founder of the Carmelites. In Russian popular proverbs he directs the storms, the sound of the thunder being caused by the rumble of his fiery chariot and the lightning by its blaze. Among the Kabbalists Elijah's name is repeated with special emphasis on the exit of the Sabbath; at that time he is supposed to be seated under the tree of life and unerringly records in writing the merits of those who keep the Sabbath holy.

Curious is the survival of the custom, at the Passover repast, of having an extra goblet of wine for Elijah. I am tempted to explain this as a proof and illustration of Hebrew hospitality. All Israelites, masters and servants, men, women and children, are alike commanded to be present at the Paschal meal: on that evening all are freemen; the barriers of rank, class and circumstance are thrown aside. What more natural than that an extra cup of wine should be provided for the traveler or stranger guest who may by chance arrive on the festival eve?

Such a custom is quite common among rabbis to-day, who are glad to invite a poor brother to their Sabbath meal in obedience to the Mosaic law, "Thou shalt love thy neighbor as thyself."

Once the prophet met a man who mocked at holy things. "My son," said the sage quietly, "how wilt thou justify thyself before thy Father in heaven, when He summons thee to swift and impartial judgment?"

"Oh, I know how to answer," the skeptic rejoined, unabashed. "Why, I shall tell God that He ought to have given me knowledge and understanding; but as He did not, He is to blame, not I."

"What is thy business?" Elijah then asked, deeply moved.

"I am a fisherman," was the curt reply.

"Thou art a fisherman," said Elijah, "and hast understanding enough to arrange nets, to hurl them into the water, to watch for fish at the proper time! Who gave thee understanding for this?"

"Understanding for all that sort of thing!" exclaimed the man coolly, "why, that is nothing. Every common fisherman has it."

"Nothing!" Elijah answered with emphasis. "It is indeed something. Dost thou think much understanding is necessary to carry out the law? 'The law,' says Moses, 'is near to thee; it is in thy mouth, and in thy heart, and thou canst do it.' "

Touched to the quick by Elijah's reproof, and convinced, as well, that the prophet had both logic and reason on his side, the fisherman wept tears of repentance and abandoned his skepticism.

Once in the busy market-place Elijah appeared to Rabbi Beroka. Curious to pry into the secrets of life eternal, the rabbi asked the prophet: "Who among all this crowd will enjoy future salvation?'

"That man yonder in black sandals, like a heathen, and without fringes on his garments." The rabbi was not a little astounded that one who violated the statutes of the law should have a portion in the world to come, and, approaching the man without delay, asked him what was his business.

"I am a jailer," said he, "and take special care to maintain morality in the prison."

"But why do you neglect the fringes?”

"That is very easily explained," he answered. "On account of this very neglect I am regarded as a heathen, and become thus acquainted with the mischievous purposes of enemies of the Jews, and inform the Jewish leaders of any threatening evil."

But the rabbi's surprise for the day had not ended.

"See those two jesters there," said Elijah, pointing unobserved to two figures in the crowd. "They, too, shall be saved."

Rabbi Beroka advanced quickly in their direction, and conversed with them for a few moments. He found that they were men of a cheerful, hearty spirit, who strove to comfort the mourner and the sufferer, and to banish their pain, while they had often restored harmony among people, and instilled gentle peace.

"Blessed are the peacemakers," so reads the golden sentence in the Sermon on the Mount, "for they shall be called the sons of God."

"Love peace, and pursue peace," said Hillel; 'love mankind, and bring them near to the Law.

Isaacs, Abram S. Stories From the Rabbis. Charles L. Webster & Co., 1893.

Abram S. Isaacs

World Mythology

A collection of myths, legends, and other stories that teach us something about the world. Note that myths are often tied into the history and religion of the people who tell them, and they should always be treated and read with respect!

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