4 min read

Elijah Was Hidden and Elisha Doubled Every Miracle He Left Behind

Elisha asked for a double portion of Elijah's spirit. Elijah called it a hard thing. Elisha watched and received it, and the count came out exactly right.

Curated by Arthur · Told by Maggid ·
Table of Contents
  1. A Hard Thing
  2. The Arithmetic of the Double Portion
  3. Elijah in the Treasuries
  4. What Phinehas Has to Do With It

A Hard Thing

He asked for one thing. Standing at the edge of the Jordan with his master, watching Elijah prepare for something no prophet before him had done, Elisha ben Shaphat made his request: let a double portion of your spirit fall upon me.

Elijah was the man who had called down fire on the altar of Carmel and burned up the offering, the wood, the stones, and the water in the trench. He had stood alone against four hundred fifty prophets of Baal and outlasted every one. He had run faster than a royal chariot. He had also collapsed beneath a juniper tree and asked to die, which is the detail that makes every earlier one believable. He was not invincible. He was sustained by something outside himself. And Elisha was asking for double what sustained him.

Elijah said: you have asked a hard thing. But if you see me as I am taken, it will be granted.

The Arithmetic of the Double Portion

Elisha watched. The whirlwind came. The chariot of fire and the horses of fire appeared and divided them, and Elijah went up in the whirlwind into heaven. Elisha tore his clothes in two pieces, a mourning gesture and perhaps also a visual echo of the divided mantle, and he picked up Elijah's cloak from the ground where it had fallen. He went to the Jordan and struck the water with it. The water divided. He crossed.

Ben Sira, composing his catalogue of Israel's great figures around 180 BCE, states the arithmetic plainly: many twofold signs and wonders came from all that came from Elisha's mouth. The Hebrew word for twofold is mishneh, the same root as the word in Elisha's original request. The text is not using the number coincidentally. It is saying that the double portion was counted and verified. Elijah performed eight miracles. Elisha performed sixteen. Covenant kept.

Elijah in the Treasuries

But Ben Sira adds something strange. Elijah is in the treasuries. Hidden. His spirit filled Elisha, and yet Elijah himself did not disappear from the tradition's map of the living world. He was stored. The word suggests a storeroom in heaven, a place where things are kept because they will be needed again.

The rabbinic traditions developed this image considerably. Elijah did not die. He was translated, like Enoch before him, lifted from the ordinary death that comes to everyone else. He is present at every brit milah. He comes to every seder. He appears to scholars in moments of need. He sits with the poor and the suffering. He waits for the moment when he will be sent to announce that the end of the long exile is approaching. The whirlwind took him up and set him aside, not out of the story but into a holding position, waiting.

What Phinehas Has to Do With It

Some traditions identified Phinehas with Elijah. Phinehas, the priest who never died, who earned a covenant of everlasting priesthood for his zeal at Baal Peor. The logic was that both were translated, both were zealous for God, both carried a kind of covenantal permanence that set them apart from the mortality of other figures. The identification was not universal, but it pointed toward something the tradition was reaching for: the idea of a figure who belongs to every generation because he belongs to no specific death.

Elisha carried the spirit forward. He raised the dead, healed the waters at Jericho, purified the poisoned stew, fed a hundred men with twenty loaves, and healed Naaman the Aramean general. He did twice what Elijah had done, and he did it in the ordinary world while Elijah was stored in the treasuries. The doubled spirit walked the earth. The original source was kept safe for a use that had not yet come.


← All myths

From the tradition

Sources

5 sources

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

Legends of the Jews 6:69Legends of the Jews

Phinehas, you might recall, was the grandson of Aaron, the High Priest. He's known for his decisive action against those who brazenly defied God’s laws (Numbers 25). But the story doesn’t end there. According to the Legends of the Jews, as retold by Ginzberg, Phinehas received an extraordinary reward for his piety.

The greatest of these rewards? God granted him an everlasting priesthood. But it gets even more interesting. Because Phinehas, it turns out, is none other than the prophet Elijah! The fiery zealot who took a stand against injustice is also the prophet destined to herald the coming of the Messiah.

What does this everlasting priesthood actually mean? It's not just an honorary title. Phinehas/Elijah, without ever tasting death, constantly fulfills the duties of his priesthood until the resurrection of the dead. According to the legends, he offers up two daily sacrifices for the children of Israel. And here's a fascinating detail: he records the events of each day upon the skins of these sacrificed animals. Imagine the weight of history literally etched onto those hides.

The role of Phinehas/Elijah extends beyond ritual sacrifice. God tells him, "Thou hast in this world established peace between Me and Israel; in the future world also shalt thou establish peace between Me and them.” It's a powerful promise. His actions in this world reverberate through eternity, a constant bridge between humanity and the Divine.

This promise makes him the forerunner of the Messiah. His task is to establish peace on Earth before the Messiah's arrival. It's a crucial role, preparing the world for redemption.: The same zeal that drove him to act decisively in his youth becomes the engine for universal peace in the future.

So, what does this tell us? The story of Phinehas/Elijah is more than just a tale of reward and punishment. It's a evidence of the enduring power of righteousness, and the ripple effect of our actions. It's about how one person’s commitment to justice can pave the way for a more peaceful future, a future where the Divine and humanity are reconciled. It begs the question, what kind of mark will we leave on the world?

Full source
Legends of the Jews 8:5Legends of the Jews

Legends of the Jews turns to Elisha Receives a Double Portion of Elijah's Spirit.

Elijah had promised Elisha a "double portion" of his spirit. And according to Legends of the Jews, that promise was fulfilled instantly. In fact, Elisha performed sixteen miracles during his lifetime, doubling the eight attributed to his master.

The first miracle, crossing the Jordan River, is particularly striking. Elijah had crossed it with Elisha at his side. But Elisha? He traversed the river alone. As the saying goes, two righteous ones always have more power than one.

With great power, as they say, comes great responsibility. And Elisha's next miracle, the "healing" of the waters of Jericho, proves that being a prophet isn't always easy. The story goes that the water was undrinkable, so Elisha purified it, making it safe. Sounds good. Well, not for everyone.

Imagine you're a water merchant, selling clean water for a living. Suddenly, the prophet makes the local water source drinkable, and your business dries up. According to Legends of the Jews, these tradesmen were, let’s just say, not the most virtuous bunch. Elisha, with his prophetic insight, knew that they, their ancestors, and their descendants had "not even the aroma of good about them."

So, he cursed them.

Suddenly, a forest sprang up, and bears emerged, devouring the complaining merchants. Yikes!

Now, we might think they deserved it, but even with their wickedness, Elisha’s actions had consequences. That Elisha was struck with a serious sickness as a "correction" for giving in to passion. It seems even prophets aren't immune to the pitfalls of wrath.

This reminds us of Elijah, who also struggled with letting anger and zeal take over. God, it seems, wanted both of these great prophets to be cleansed of this fault. We find this echoed later in the narrative, when Elisha rebukes King Jehoram of Israel. In that moment, the spirit of prophecy actually left him, and he had to find ways to reawaken it within himself. He had to actively work to regain that connection.

What does this tell us? Perhaps it's that even those chosen for greatness are still fundamentally human, wrestling with the same emotions and challenges as the rest of us. That even with divine power, self-control and compassion are virtues to be constantly cultivated. It's a reminder that being a force for good requires not only power, but also wisdom and a constant striving for inner balance. And that, perhaps, is the most miraculous lesson of all.

Full source
Ben Sira 48:13Ben Sira

Ben Sira, in his wisdom, paints a vivid picture of this powerful figure. He writes, "Who was written truly for the time, to stop anger before the rage of God; to return the hearts of fathers to their sons, and to establish the tribes of Israel." To stop God's anger. To heal fractured families. To unite a divided nation. No small task. Now, Ben Sira drops this intriguing line: "Happy is one who sees you and dies, and happy are you for you still live." It's a bit cryptic, isn't it? What does it mean to be happy to die after seeing Eliyahu? Perhaps it speaks to the overwhelming sense of completion and peace that Elijah's presence inspires. Or maybe it hints at the mysteries surrounding his departure from this world – a departure unlike any other.

Then comes the really fascinating part: "Eliyahu, who in the treasuries is hidden, and whose spirit filled Elisha; for many twofold signs and wonders came from all that came from his mouth."

The "treasuries" – what could those be? The Talmud (Chagigah 12b) speaks of Eliyahu dwelling in Paradise. Is that what Ben Sira hints at? Regardless, the text emphasizes that Eliyahu’s influence didn’t end with his earthly life. His spirit lived on through his disciple, Elisha, who performed even more miracles than his mentor. According to tradition, Elisha asked for a "double portion" of Eliyahu's spirit (II Kings 2:9), and it seems he received it.

Ben Sira continues, "In his days he never cowered before anything, and no mortal power ruled his spirit." Eliyahu was a force of nature, unyielding in his commitment to truth and justice. He challenged kings (remember Ahab and Jezebel?), confronted false prophets, and stood up for the marginalized. He was beholden to no one but God.

And then this enigmatic line: "Not a thing was too wondrous for him, and from below him his flesh was created."

What does it mean that "from below him his flesh was created?" It's a strange phrase, isn't it? Some interpret this as a reference to Eliyahu's miraculous ascent to heaven in a fiery chariot (II (Kings 2:1)1). Perhaps Ben Sira is suggesting that Eliyahu's physical form was somehow transformed or elevated, prepared for its heavenly journey.

Ben Sira's words leave us with a sense of awe and wonder. Eliyahu HaNavi represents the potential for unwavering faith, righteous action, and the possibility of transcending the limitations of our mortal existence. He is a reminder that even in the darkest of times, hope remains, and that the spirit of truth and justice can never be extinguished.

So, what does Eliyahu mean for us today? Perhaps it’s a call to cultivate that same spirit of courage and unwavering faith. To stand up for what’s right, even when it's difficult. To strive to heal the divisions in our own lives and in the world around us. After all, the work of Elijah continues, and we are all called to play a part.

Full source
Devarim Rabbah 10:3Devarim Rabbah

It all starts with a verse from II Samuel (23:3): “The God of Israel said, the Rock of Israel spoke to me: The ruler over people [is a righteous one, ruling through the fear of God].” But what does "ruling through the fear of God" really mean? Devarim Rabbah asks, what's so special about a righteous person?

The answer? Incredibly, the righteous, "as it were, rule over what the Holy One blessed be He rules." It’s a bold statement. How can a human being, even the most righteous, possibly share in God's dominion?

The text explains it through a series of striking parallels: "Everything that the Holy One blessed be He does, the righteous do." It's not about usurping God's power, but about emulating God's actions in the world, becoming partners in acts of kindness and healing. The Holy One remembers the barren and grants them children. And who else do we know who brought hope to the childless? The prophet Elisha. As the story goes, he remembered the Shunamite woman, and, as we read in II Kings (4:16), declared, "At this time next year, at this very time, you will embrace a son."

The Holy One revives the dead. And Elisha? He revived the Shunamite woman's son! (II (Kings 4:32)–36).

These parallels continue. The Holy One splits seas, enabling passage from the impossible. And both Elijah and Elisha also split bodies of water. We see this in II Kings (2:14): "Even he, as he struck the water, it split here and there."

The Holy One heals without needing bandages. And Elisha healed Naaman of his leprosy without any medicine (II (Kings 5:14)–15).

The Holy One sweetens bitter water. Elisha did the same, as we find in II Kings (2:20–22): "He said: Bring me a new bottle, [and put salt there…. He went to the water source, and he cast salt there, and said: So said the Lord: I have cured this water]…The water was cured."

Then there's the control over the elements. The Holy One halts rain, and Elijah, too, could stop the heavens from opening, declaring, "As the Lord [of hosts]…lives, there shall be neither dew nor rain" (I Kings 17:1). And just as the Holy One brings rain, the prophet Samuel called upon the Lord and caused rain to fall (I (Samuel 12:1)7).

Finally, the dramatic image of fire from the heavens. The Holy One causes fire to descend, and Elijah mirrored this power, calling down fire to consume the burnt offering (I (Kings 18:3)8).

What are we to make of all this? It's not about diminishing God's role, but about elevating humanity's potential. The tzaddikim (a righteous person), the righteous ones, become conduits for divine action in the world. They demonstrate that we, too, can participate in acts of healing, compassion, and even miraculous intervention.

Devarim Rabbah isn't just telling us about historical figures. It’s challenging us. It’s asking us: what can we do to emulate these acts? How can we become partners with the Divine in bringing more good into the world? It's a powerful reminder that even in our own ordinary lives, we have the potential to make a real difference, to bring a little bit of the divine into the everyday. And maybe, just maybe, that's the most miraculous thing of all.

Full source
Legends of the Jews 8:3Legends of the Jews

The final act of the prophet Elijah, that fiery figure of the Hebrew Bible, will be the ultimate showdown. He will carry out God's command to slay Samael (the angel of death), who, depending on which tradition you follow, is an archangel, or the embodiment of evil itself. The Zohar, that foundational text of Jewish mysticism, certainly leans towards the latter. Imagine it: the banishment of evil, forever. What a mic drop moment that would be!

Let’s rewind a bit, to the moment Elijah ascended to heaven. It's a pivotal moment not just for him, but, in a way, for all the prophets who came after. Ginzberg, in his Legends of the Jews, puts it powerfully: "The voices of the thousands of prophets of his time were stilled when Elijah was translated from earth to heaven." A whole chorus of prophetic voices, silenced with his departure. It’s like the end of an era.

Here’s the thing: these weren’t just any prophets. These were individuals who, in earlier times, were considered Elijah's peers! But with his ascent, something shifted. The prophetic spirit itself seemed to diminish, except in one remarkable case: Elisha.

Elisha, Elijah’s loyal companion and successor. He stands out as the exception to the rule. His prophetic abilities weren’t weakened; they were strengthened! Why? As Legends of the Jews notes, it was a direct reward for his unwavering devotion. Remember the story? Elijah calls him, and Elisha immediately leaves his work, his possessions, everything, to follow. That act of complete commitment, of saying "hineni" – "here I am" – earned him a unique blessing.

There's a beautiful story in the Talmud about Elijah and Elisha and the angel who was sent to retrieve Elijah. Apparently, the angel found the two prophets so engrossed in a deep, learned discussion – probably a pilpul, a classic Talmudic debate – that he couldn't even get their attention! He had to go back empty-handed, his mission unfulfilled. It paints a picture of two minds, so engaged in the pursuit of wisdom that they were temporarily beyond the reach of even heavenly messengers. (Ginzberg references this in Legends of the Jews, drawing from various Talmudic and Midrashic (rabbinic interpretive commentary) sources.)

It makes you wonder, doesn't it? What were they discussing? What profound insights were they sharing that held such sway? And what does it say about the power of learning, of intellectual and spiritual engagement, that it could, even for a moment, delay the inevitable? Perhaps it's a reminder that even in the face of destiny, the pursuit of knowledge and connection holds its own kind of power. Maybe even enough to postpone the end of days, at least until Elijah is ready to face Samael.

Full source