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Elazar Ben Dordaya Crossed Seven Rivers and Came Home Weeping

He had crossed seven rivers to reach the most notorious woman alive, and it was something she said that finally broke him open.

Curated by Arthur · Told by Maggid ·
Table of Contents
  1. Seven Rivers to the Wrong Place
  2. The Mountains That Could Not Help Him
  3. The Weeping That Opened a Door
  4. What He Had to Learn Without a Teacher

Seven Rivers to the Wrong Place

The Talmud does not soften the portrait. Elazar ben Dordaya was a man consumed by desire. There was not a single prostitute anywhere in the world, the text says, that he had not visited. When he heard that one woman lived across the sea and charged a full purse of gold dinars for her company, he crossed seven rivers to reach her. He paid. He was alone with her. Then she said something that he would carry with him for the rest of his life, which turned out to be very short.

The exact words vary across manuscript traditions. In one version she told him that just as her breath, once released, could never return, Elazar ben Dordaya would never be received in repentance. She meant it as a casual cruelty, a word thrown at a man she had already taken money from. He received it as a verdict.

The Mountains That Could Not Help Him

Something inside him cracked open. He left her and went outside and sat between two mountains. He called out to the mountains: "Pray for mercy on my behalf." The mountains answered: "Before we can pray for you, we must pray for ourselves. As it is written, 'the mountains shall depart' (Isaiah 54:10)." He turned to the hills. The hills said the same thing. He called to the heavens. The heavens were occupied with their own judgment. He called to the sun and moon. They too were moving toward their own accounting. He called to the stars. The stars had nothing to offer him.

Everything he tried to recruit as an intercessor declined. The logic was not cruelty but theology: in this tradition, no creature can stand as proxy for the repentance that must come from within the person who needs to repent. Mountains cannot carry a man's return. The sun cannot transfer its standing to a stranger. Whatever Elazar ben Dordaya needed, he would have to produce it himself.

The Weeping That Opened a Door

He put his head between his knees and wept. He wept until his soul departed. A heavenly voice spoke: "Rabbi Elazar ben Dordaya is destined for the World to Come."

The title stunned Rabbi Yehudah HaNasi, who heard the account. He wept. This too is sufficient, he said through tears. A man can acquire his world in a single hour. But he was weeping because the acquisition cost Elazar everything. There was no more life after the moment his soul went out. He had used his last hour of existence to weep his way back from a place the woman had told him was permanently closed.

The woman had said his breath could never return to its source. The image was about the impossibility of undoing what a person has done with their body over a lifetime. But the breath did return. The heavenly voice that called him Rabbi was the return of the breath, the thing she said could never happen.

What He Had to Learn Without a Teacher

The story's structure is almost geometrically precise. Every external mediator fails. The mountains decline. The sky declines. The sun and moon decline. After every failure, Elazar turns to something further away. When he has tried everything in the created world and found nothing to help, he turns inward. His head goes between his knees. His weeping is the only prayer he has left, and it is the only prayer that works.

There is a late Kabbalistic text, the Tanya by Rabbi Schneur Zalman of Liadi, composed at the end of the eighteenth century, that distinguishes two kinds of awe. The lower kind comes from contemplating the scale of the created world: the distance from earth to the first heaven is five hundred years of travel, from that heaven to the next another five hundred years. This kind of awe can begin the return. But it is incomplete on its own. Elazar ben Dordaya had already traveled seven rivers toward the wrong thing. His sense of scale was fully functional. What he needed was something different, the awe that comes not from looking outward at creation but inward at the soul that has been wasted.

Elazar Ben DordayaRepentanceWorld To ComeBat KolTearsSoulTalmud
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From the tradition

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The texts this telling draws on, in full. Open a card to read inline, or expand it for a wider, quieter read.

Avodah Zarah 17aTalmud Bavli, Avodah Zarah

and you derived pleasure from it, and because of this you were held responsible by Heaven. Rabbi Eliezer said to him: Akiva, you are right, as you have reminded me that once I was walking in the upper marketplace of Tzippori, and I found a man who was one of the students of Yeshu the Nazarene, and his name was Ya’akov of Kefar Sekhanya. He said to me: It is written in your Torah: “You shall not bring the payment to a prostitute, or the price of a dog, into the house of the Lord your God” (Deuteronomy 23:19).

What is the halakha: Is it permitted to make from the payment to a prostitute for services rendered a bathroom for a High Priest in the Temple? And I said nothing to him in response. He said to me: Yeshu the Nazarene taught me the following: It is permitted, as derived from the verse: “For of the payment to a prostitute she has gathered them, and to the payment to a prostitute they shall return” (Micah 1:7).

Since the coins came from a place of filth, let them go to a place of filth and be used to build a bathroom. And I derived pleasure from the statement, and due to this, I was arrested for heresy by the authorities, because I transgressed that which is written in the Torah: “Remove your way far from her, and do not come near the entrance of her house” (Proverbs 5:8). “Remove your way far from her,” this is a reference to heresy; “and do not come near the entrance of her house,” this is a reference to the ruling authority.

The Gemara notes: And there are those who say a different interpretation: “Remove your way far from her,” this is a reference to heresy and the ruling authority; “and do not come near the entrance of her house,” this is a reference to a prostitute. And how much distance must one maintain from a prostitute? Rav Ḥisda said: Four cubits. With regard to the derivation of the verse by Yeshu the Nazarene, the Gemara asks: And what do the Sages derive from this phrase: “Payment to a prostitute”?

The Gemara answers: They explain it in accordance with the opinion of Rav Ḥisda, as Rav Ḥisda says: Any prostitute who hires herself out to others for money will become so attached to this practice that ultimately, when others no longer wish to hire her, she will hire others to engage in intercourse with her. As it is stated: “And in that you gave payment, and no payment is given to you, therefore you are contrary” (Ezekiel 16:34).

The Gemara comments: And Rav Ḥisda, who stated above that the Torah requires one to maintain a distance of four cubits from a prostitute, disagrees with the opinion of Rabbi Pedat. As Rabbi Pedat says: The Torah prohibited only intimacy that involves engaging in prohibited sexual relations, as it is stated: “None of you shall approach to any that is near of kin to him, to uncover their nakedness” (Leviticus 18:6).

The prohibition against intimacy in the Torah applies exclusively to sexual intercourse, and all other kinds of intimacy that do not include actual intercourse are not included in the prohibition. The Gemara relates: When Ulla would come from the study hall, he would kiss his sisters on their hands. And some say: On their chests. And the Gemara points out that this action of his disagrees with another ruling that Ulla himself issued, as Ulla says: Mere intimacy with a woman with whom one is prohibited from engaging in sexual intercourse is prohibited, due to the maxim: Go, go, we say to a nazirite, go around, go around but do not come near to the vineyard.

Just as a nazirite is warned not even to come into close proximity of a vineyard lest he consume a product of the vine, so too one is obligated to distance himself from anyone with whom intercourse is forbidden. § In connection to the earlier mention of heresy and the ruling authorities, the Gemara cites a verse: “The horseleech has two daughters: Give, give” (Proverbs 30:15). What is meant by “give, give”?

Mar Ukva says: This is the voice of the two daughters who cry out from Gehenna due to their suffering; and they are the ones who say in this world: Give, give, demanding dues and complete allegiance. And who are they? They are heresy and the ruling authority. There are those who say that Rav Ḥisda says that Mar Ukva says: The voice of Gehenna cries out and says: Bring me two daughters who cry and say in this world: Give, give.

The following verse in Proverbs makes reference to a foreign woman, which according to the Sages is a euphemism for heresy: “None that go to her return, neither do they attain the paths of life” (Proverbs 2:19). The Gemara asks: Since those that are drawn to heresy do not return, from where would they attain the path of life? Why is it necessary for the verse to add that they do not attain the paths of life?

The Gemara explains that this is what the verse is saying: In general, those who go to her do not return, and even if they return, they do not attain the paths of life, i.e., the pain of their regret will shorten their lives. The Gemara asks: Is this to say that anyone who separates himself from heresy and returns from his mistaken ways must die? But what about that woman who came before Rav Ḥisda to confess to him, and she said to him: The lightest of the light, i.e., the least of the sins that she committed, is that she conceived her younger son from engaging in intercourse with her older son.

And Rav Ḥisda said to her: Prepare funeral shrouds for her, i.e., yourself, as you will certainly die soon, but she did not die. The above incident refutes the claim that anyone who repents for the sin of heresy must die, as from the fact that she said that the lightest of the light of her sins was that she conceived one son from engaging in intercourse with another son, by inference one can learn that she was also involved in heresy, and yet she did not die.

The Gemara answers: That is a case where the woman did not repent properly, and due to that reason she did not die. There are those who say there is a different version of the objection to the Gemara’s statement that those who repent for the sin of heresy must die: Is that to say that if one repents for the sin of heresy, yes, the result is death, whereas if one repents for the sin of forbidden sexual intercourse he does not die?

But what about that woman who came before Rav Ḥisda to confess to him and Rav Ḥisda said to those present: Prepare funeral shrouds for her, and she died? The Gemara answers: From the fact that she said: The lightest of the light, by inference one can learn that she was also involved in heresy. The Gemara asks: And is it correct that one who repents of the sin of forbidden sexual intercourse does not die?

But isn’t it taught in a baraita: They said about Rabbi Elazar ben Durdayya that he was so promiscuous that he did not leave one prostitute in the world with whom he did not engage in sexual intercourse. Once, he heard that there was one prostitute in one of the cities overseas who would take a purse full of dinars as her payment. He took a purse full of dinars and went and crossed seven rivers to reach her.

When they were engaged in the matters to which they were accustomed, a euphemism for intercourse, she passed wind and said: Just as this passed wind will not return to its place, so too Elazar ben Durdayya will not be accepted in repentance, even if he were to try to repent. This statement deeply shocked Elazar ben Durdayya, and he went and sat between two mountains and hills and said: Mountains and hills, pray for mercy on my behalf, so that my repentance will be accepted.

They said to him: Before we pray for mercy on your behalf, we must pray for mercy on our own behalf, as it is stated: “For the mountains may depart, and the hills be removed” (Isaiah 54:10). He said: Heaven and earth, pray for mercy on my behalf. They said to him: Before we pray for mercy on your behalf, we must pray for mercy on our own behalf, as it is stated: “For the heavens shall vanish away like smoke, and the earth shall wax old like a garment” (Isaiah 51:6).

He said: Sun and moon, pray for mercy on my behalf. They said to him: Before we pray for mercy on your behalf, we must pray for mercy on our own behalf, as it is stated: “Then the moon shall be confounded, and the sun ashamed” (Isaiah 24:23). He said: Stars and constellations, pray for mercy on my behalf. They said to him: Before we pray for mercy on your behalf, we must pray for mercy on our own behalf, as it is stated: “And all the hosts of heaven shall molder away” (Isaiah 34:4).

Elazar ben Durdayya said: Clearly the matter depends on nothing other than myself. He placed his head between his knees and cried loudly until his soul left his body. A Divine Voice emerged and said: Rabbi Elazar ben Durdayya is destined for life in the World-to-Come. The Gemara explains the difficulty presented by this story: And here Elazar ben Durdayya was guilty of the sin of forbidden sexual intercourse, and yet he died once he repented.

The Gemara answers: There too, since he was attached so strongly to the sin, to an extent that transcended the physical temptation he felt, it is similar to heresy, as it had become like a form of idol worship for him. When Rabbi Yehuda HaNasi heard this story of Elazar ben Durdayya, he wept and said: There is one who acquires his share in the World-to-Come only after many years of toil, and there is one who acquires his share in the World-to-Come in one moment.

And Rabbi Yehuda HaNasi further says: Not only are penitents accepted, but they are even called: Rabbi, as the Divine Voice referred to Elazar ben Durdayya as Rabbi Elazar ben Durdayya. § In relation to the issue of distancing oneself from idol worship and prostitution, the Gemara relates: Rabbi Ḥanina and Rabbi Yonatan were once walking along the road when they came to a certain two paths, one of which branched off toward the entrance of a place of idol worship, and the other one branched off toward the entrance of a brothel. One said to the other: Let us go by the path that leads to the entrance of the place of idol worship,

Full source
Exempla of the Rabbis, No. 253Exempla of the Rabbis (Gaster, 1924)

Elazar ben Dordaya was a man consumed by desire. The Talmud (Avodah Zarah 17a) records that he was so enslaved to his passions that he traveled across seven rivers to visit a particular woman, going to extraordinary lengths to satisfy appetites that had become the entire purpose of his existence.

During one such encounter, the woman said something that pierced him to the core: "Just as this breath that I blow will never return to its place, so Elazar ben Dordaya will never be received in repentance." She meant it as a casual insult. He received it as a death sentence.

Elazar was shattered. He left and went to sit between two mountains. He cried out to the mountains: "Mountains, pray for mercy on my behalf!" They replied: "Before we pray for you, we must pray for ourselves." He turned to the heavens and the earth, to the sun and the moon, to the stars, each one refused. Each had its own account to settle with God.

Finally, Elazar understood. "The matter depends on me alone." No mountain, no star, no cosmic force could repent on his behalf. He placed his head between his knees and wept, wept with such intensity, such utter destruction of his former self, that his soul departed. He died in the act of repentance.

A heavenly voice declared: "Rabbi Elazar ben Dordaya is destined for the World to Come." When Rabbi Judah HaNasi heard this, he wept and said: "Some acquire their portion in the World to Come over many years, and some acquire it in a single hour." The deepest repentance, the kind that kills the old self completely, can accomplish in one hour what a lifetime of gradual improvement cannot.

Full source
Gaster, Exempla No. 253 (Avodah Zarah 17a)The Exempla of the Rabbis (1924)

Elazar ben Dordaya was, by his own admission, a man who had lived as low a life as a Jewish soul could live. He had chased every pleasure, broken every fence of decency, and finally arrived at the door of a notorious woman in a distant city, having spent the full purse of gold she had demanded just to travel the distance.

In the middle of their arrangement, she did something that reached past his sin and struck his soul. The Talmud in Avodah Zarah 17a preserves the detail: she said, "Elazar ben Dordaya will never be received in repentance."

The door he had thought was still open had, in her mouth, closed.

The Mountains, the Sun, and the Stars

He left. He went and sat between two mountains and cried out to them: "Mountains, plead mercy for me." The mountains answered: "Before we plead for you, we must plead for ourselves", citing (Isaiah 54:10), "The mountains shall depart."

He turned to heaven and earth. They refused.

He turned to the sun and the moon. They refused.

He turned to the stars and constellations. They refused.

At last he understood. He put his head between his knees, wept until his soul shook, and cried out: "The matter depends on nothing but me."

The Voice from Heaven

His weeping continued until his soul left his body. A Bat Kol, a heavenly voice, proclaimed: "Rabbi Elazar ben Dordaya is invited to the life of the world to come."

When Rabbi Judah HaNasi heard what had happened, he wept himself, saying: "One man acquires his world in a single hour, and another acquires his world across many years."

This exempla, one of the Talmud's most-quoted stories on repentance, makes a claim that reshaped Jewish thought: no sinner is beyond return, and the entire cosmos may refuse to help you. But if you weep the right kind of tears in the last hour, the gates open anyway.

Full source
Tanya, Likkutei Amarim, Chapter 43Tanya (Likkutei Amarim)

There are two kinds of awe, and they lead to entirely different places. Rabbi Schneur Zalman of Liadi maps them with surgical precision in the Tanya, drawing on the Mishnah (the earliest code of rabbinic law)'s paradox: "Where there is no fear, there is no wisdom. Where there is no wisdom, there is no fear" (Avot 3:17).

The first is yirah tata'ah (יראה תתאה), lower fear. This is the awe you feel when contemplating the sheer scale of creation. The Talmud says the distance from earth to the first heaven is a journey of 500 years. From that heaven to the next, another 500 years. And the feet of the Chayot, the living angelic creatures, measure up to all of them combined (Chagigah 13a). Layer upon layer upon layer, and all of it is merely God's "garments," the external coverings in which the King conceals Himself.

This fear is real. It drives a person to fulfill the Torah and commandments. But it is called "external" and "inferior" because it comes from looking at the garments, not at the King Himself.

The second is yirah ila'ah (יראה עילאה), higher fear. This is not fear of punishment or even fear of God's vastness. It is a fear born of shame, an inner trembling that comes from seeing reality as it truly is. The word Chochmah (חכמה), wisdom, can be read as koach mah (כ"ח מ"ה), the power of "what" or "nothing." True wisdom is seeing that everything, the heavens, the earth, your own body and soul, is absolutely nothing compared to the word of God that sustains it all. Like the light of the sun dissolving inside the body of the sun itself, all of reality is nullified within its Source.

The lower fear opens the gate. The higher fear is what you find on the other side. You cannot reach wisdom without first practicing awe, and you cannot reach the deepest awe without first acquiring wisdom.

Full source