5 min read

Before the World Began, God Told Death to Let Elijah Through

The Angel of Death met Elijah at the edge of heaven and refused to move. He had jurisdiction over every human being alive, and he said so.

Curated by Arthur · Told by Maggid ·
Table of Contents
  1. The Sun Stopped Over Carmel
  2. The Cave Was Made Before He Was
  3. Four Answers at Horeb
  4. The Angel of Death Would Not Step Aside
  5. The Whirlwind
Before the World Began, God Told Death to Let Elijah Through Click for full size

The Sun Stopped Over Carmel

There was not enough daylight left to build an altar, dig a trench around it, stack the wood and lay out the carcass, so Elijah spoke to the sun.

"For Joshua you stood still, so that Israel could beat his enemies. Now stand still. Not for my sake, and not for Israel's. So that the Name of God is exalted."

The sun stopped where it was and waited.

He built. Toward evening he called his student Elisha over and told him to pour water on his hands, and the water kept coming out of Elijah's fingers until the whole trench around the altar was full of it. Then he prayed for fire, and he was careful about how he asked. He wanted fire that nobody in the crowd could write off as a trick. "You are going to send me as a messenger at the end of time," he said. "If my words are not made good now, why would the Jews believe me then?"

The fire came down and ate the offering and then drank the trench dry.

He had one more thing to ask for, and no merit left to ask it on. "Even if we have nothing else," he said, "remember the sign of the covenant that the Israelites carry on their bodies." The words were barely out when the rain hit the ground.

The Cave Was Made Before He Was

Between the end of the sixth day and the first Sabbath there is a gap, and God had used it. Ten things were made in that gap, all of them for emergencies that had not happened yet: the rainbow, kept out of sight until Noah needed it; the manna; the springs Israel would drink from in the desert; the writing on the two tablets, and the pen that wrote it, and the tablets themselves; the mouth of Balaam's donkey; the grave of Moses; the rod of Aaron with its blossoms and its ripe almonds.

And the cave. One cave, dug into the last minutes of creation, for two men who would not exist for centuries. Moses would live in it. So would Elijah.

By then his reputation ran ahead of him like weather. He had broken the staff of bread and left a whole kingdom hungry. At a word from God the sky had shut and then rained three fires. He had pulled a dead body back out of Sheol (the underworld of the dead). He had put kings into the pit and lifted noblemen off their sickbeds. He had anointed the man who carried out the punishment and the prophet who would take his own place.

Four Answers at Horeb

At the mountain, four things went past him in order. A wind that tore at the rock. An earthquake. A fire. Then a small still voice.

God told him what he had just been shown. The wind is this world, which goes by that fast. The earthquake is the day of death, when the body shakes. The fire is the tribunal in Gehenna (the realm of judgment after death). And the voice with nothing behind it is the Last Judgment, when there is no one left but God.

Four worlds a man walks through, laid out in order for a man who was about to be excused from the second one.

The Angel of Death Would Not Step Aside

About three years later the chariot came for him, and the Angel of Death was standing in the way.

His argument was jurisdictional and he made it plainly. Every human being alive belongs to him. There are no exceptions written anywhere he can see, and Elijah is a human being.

God said the exception had been written a long time ago. When heaven and earth were created he had given this angel a standing order about this one man, and the order was to let him through alive.

The Angel of Death pushed back. Grant that, and every other person who ever died has a legitimate complaint against heaven. Why him. Why not them.

"Elijah is not like other men," God said. "He can throw you out of the world. You simply have not noticed how strong he is."

So it was allowed, and the two of them fought.

The prophet won. He would have gone further, would have finished the Angel of Death off entirely and left the world without one, and God had to hold him back from doing it. He put his foot on the neck of the thing that had come to stop him, and stood on it, and went up.

The Whirlwind

What the people below saw was a whirlwind and a regiment of fire, going up and taking a living man with it, and no body left behind to bury.

The cave that had been cut for him at the end of the sixth day was still there. He had already used it once.


← All myths

From the tradition

Sources

4 sources

The texts behind this telling. Some cards carry a translation of the source; others are our own retelling of it, and each card says which. Every card links out to the original.

Legends of the Jews 2:77Legends of the Jews

Retold in our words. Read the original at the link below.The Legends of the Jews by Louis Ginzberg (1909) · Public Domain

" Jewish tradition is rich with stories filling in those blanks, offering glimpses into the hidden corners of creation.

One such tradition speaks of ten things created in the twilight, that liminal space between the sixth day and the arrival of Shabbat (the Sabbath). a time out of time, a hinge connecting the work week to the day of rest. The Legends of the Jews, that incredible collection of rabbinic stories compiled by Rabbi Louis Ginzberg, tells us that these weren't just any ordinary creations. They were extraordinary, almost…pre-emptive.

What were these twilight wonders? First, there’s the rainbow, unseen until Noah’s time, a promise whispered into the very fabric of existence. Then, the manna, that miraculous food that would sustain the Israelites in the desert. There were also the water springs, anticipating Israel's thirst. And then we get to the truly powerful stuff: the writing on the tablets given at Sinai, the pen that inscribed them, and the tablets themselves, all waiting for their moment in history.

There’s more! The mouth of Balaam’s donkey (yes, that talking donkey!), Moses’ grave, the cave where Moses and Elijah found shelter, and finally, Aaron’s rod, already blossoming with almonds. Each item a seed of a future story, planted before its time. Isn't that incredible?

But what about the beings who would witness and celebrate this creation? Before the world existed, who was there to praise God? The answer, according to tradition, is that God created angels, the holy Hayyot (a special class of angels), the heavens, and Adam himself, all to sing His praises.

Now, during the week of creation, there wasn’t really a good time for a proper celebration. Everything was still… in progress. It was only on Shabbat, when all of creation rested, that beings on earth and in heaven could unite in song. As we find in Midrash Rabbah, all creation bursts forth in adoration when God ascends to and sits upon His Throne, specifically, the Throne of Joy.

Ginzberg elaborates on this scene, drawing from various midrashic (rabbinic interpretive commentary) sources: God has all the angels pass before Him – the angel of the water, the angel of the rivers, the angel of the mountains... the list goes on, encompassing every aspect of creation, even the angel of Gehenna (hell)!

Each angel, each division of the heavenly hosts, appeared before God "with great joy, laved in a stream of joy." They rejoiced, danced, and sang, praising the Lord with countless instruments. The ministering angels began, "Let the glory of the Lord endure forever!" And the rest of the angels answered, "Let the Lord rejoice in His works!"

Imagine the scene: 'Arabot, the seventh heaven, filled with joy and glory, splendor and strength, power and might, praise and jubilation. It's a harmony of adoration, a cosmic dance of gratitude.

What does it all mean? Perhaps it’s a reminder that creation isn’t just a one-time event. It’s an ongoing process, a continuous song of praise. And maybe, just maybe, we're all invited to join in that song, every Shabbat, every day.

Full source
Ben Sira 48:9Ben Sira

Retold in our words. Read the original at the link below.The Wisdom of Ben Sira, Cambridge University Press (1899) · CC-BY

Or Eliyahu, as he's known in Hebrew.

He wasn't exactly known for his gentle touch. Ben Sira, in chapter 48, paints a picture of a man of intense zeal. “And he shattered their staff of bread, and in his zealousness reduced them greatly.” He didn't just show up; he shook things to their core.

What exactly did that mean, “shattered their staff of bread?" Well, it's believed to refer to the famine that struck Israel during Elijah's time, a direct consequence of the people's straying from God's path and worshipping idols. Elijah, a fiery messenger, brought not comfort but a harsh lesson.

The hits kept coming. "With a word of God, the heavens stopped; and rained three fires.” Can you imagine? Elijah, empowered by the divine, held back the rain. Drought and famine became his weapons against those who had abandoned their faith. Three fires.. maybe drought, famine and societal chaos?

"How awesome are you, Eliyahu, and who is like you in wonder?" Ben Sira practically shouts his admiration. And it’s easy to see why. We’re talking about someone who seems to operate outside the bounds of the natural world.

"Who raised a corpse from death, and from Sheol, as ADONAI willed." Sheol, the Jewish concept of the underworld, the place of the dead. Elijah, through the power of God, defied even death itself. This miraculous act demonstrates the extent of his divine connection and the power vested in him. It's a theme we see echoed throughout Jewish tradition – the power of faith to overcome even the most insurmountable obstacles.

Then there's the line, “Who brought kings down to the pit, and nobles up from their sickbeds.” It's a striking image of Elijah's power to upturn the established order. He humbled the mighty and elevated the afflicted. It's not just about miracles; it's about justice, about righting wrongs.

"Who anointed the one who fulfilled retribution, and the prophet who replaced you." This alludes to Elisha, Elijah's successor, who continued his mission. It speaks to the passing of the prophetic torch, the continuation of the divine message through different messengers.

“Who heard reproofs at Sinai, and at Ḥorev judgements of vengeance.” It’s a powerful connection to the very foundation of Jewish law and tradition. Sinai, where the Torah was given. Ḥorev, another name for Sinai. Elijah, in his own way, embodies the spirit of those divine pronouncements, the call to justice and righteousness.

And finally, the most iconic image of all: “Who was taken up in a whirlwind, in a regiment of heaven's fire.” Elijah didn't die a normal death. He ascended to heaven in a chariot of fire. It's a dramatic, unforgettable image that solidifies his status as a figure of immense power and mystery.

So, what does it all mean? Why does Elijah resonate so strongly, even today? Perhaps it's because he represents a fierce commitment to truth and justice. He's a reminder that even in the darkest of times, one person, empowered by faith, can make a world of difference. He stands as a symbol of hope, a promise that even when things seem hopeless, redemption is possible. And maybe, just maybe, that's a message we all need to hear from time to time.

Full source
Legends of the Jews 7:16Legends of the Jews

Retold in our words. Read the original at the link below.The Legends of the Jews by Louis Ginzberg (1909) · Public Domain

The prophet Elijah knew. And according to tradition, the events leading up to that moment, and even his ascent to heaven, hold profound meaning for us all.

The story goes that before God revealed Himself to Elijah, He sent four distinct phenomena: a mighty wind, a powerful earthquake, a raging fire, and finally, a “still small voice” (1 (Kings 19:11-1)3). But these weren't just random acts of nature. They were a lesson, a glimpse into the very destiny of humanity. The wind, so strong yet so fleeting, represents this world – our present existence, constantly changing and ultimately transient. Then comes the earthquake, symbolizing the day of death, a moment that shakes us to our very core, when the body trembles and quakes. The fire? That's the tribunal in Gehenna (hell), a fiery judgment. And finally, the still, small voice – the quiet, absolute judgment of the Last Days, when only God remains. As Legends of the Jews tells us, God was showing Elijah, and therefore us, the path we all must tread.

The story doesn't end there. What about Elijah’s dramatic ascent to heaven?

About three years later, Elijah was taken up into heaven. But it wasn’t a simple, peaceful journey. He had to contend with the Angel of Death himself! Imagine that confrontation. The Angel of Death, who believes he has dominion over all mortals, including Elijah, stands in his way. "You can't pass," he essentially says. "I have jurisdiction over everyone."

God, however, had other plans. He reminded the Angel of Death that at the very creation of heaven and earth, He had explicitly commanded that Elijah be granted passage! Even so, the Angel of Death argued back, as Legends of the Jews recounts, that allowing Elijah to bypass death would be unfair to everyone else. Why should he get a free pass when no one else does?

God’s response is fascinating: “Elijah is not like other men. He is able to banish thee from the world, only thou dost not recognize his strength." In other words, Elijah possessed a unique power, a strength the Angel of Death underestimated.

And so, a battle ensued. Elijah and the Angel of Death clashed, a cosmic struggle between life and, well, the end of it. And Elijah, through the grace of God, emerged victorious! Had God not intervened, Elijah would have annihilated the Angel of Death altogether. Instead, he held his defeated foe under his feet and ascended heavenward.

What are we to make of this incredible story? It’s a reminder that even in the face of death, there is hope, that extraordinary faith and devotion can lead to extraordinary outcomes. Elijah’s journey, filled with divine encounters and battles against seemingly insurmountable forces, serves as a powerful evidence of the strength within us all. Maybe, just maybe, we too have a strength that even the Angel of Death underestimates.

Full source
Legends of the Jews 7:12Legends of the Jews

Retold in our words. Read the original at the link below.The Legends of the Jews by Louis Ginzberg (1909) · Public Domain

Legends of the Jews turns to Elijah's Transgression and the Altar.

In Ginzberg's retelling in, Legends of the Jews, Elijah needed to rebuild an altar, dig a trench, and get everything ready in a single day. An impossible task. So, what did he do? He spoke to the sun itself! Not for personal glory,. As the story goes, Elijah commanded the sun to stand still, reminding it that it had obeyed Joshua long ago so the Israelites could triumph. This time, it wasn’t for him, or even for Israel, but “that the Name of God may be exalted.” And, unbelievably, the sun obeyed.

Evening approaches, and Elijah calls upon his disciple Elisha to pour water over his hands. And then, a miracle! Water springs forth from Elijah’s fingers, filling the entire trench. It’s a moment brimming with divine power.

Elijah wasn't done. He prayed to God, asking for fire to descend, but with a very specific request. He wanted the people to know, beyond any doubt, that this was a wonder from heaven, not some illusion or magician's trick. His prayer, as related in Legends of the Jews, is so poignant. He reminds God that he will be sent as a messenger "at the end of time" and that if his words don't come to fruition in this moment, how can the people be expected to believe him in the future?

And then, it happened. Fire, a roaring, consuming fire, fell from heaven. It didn't just burn the offering on the altar; it licked up every drop of water in the trench.

But the miracles didn't stop there. Elijah then prayed for rain. The text recounts him saying, "Though we have no other merits, yet remember the sign of the covenant which the Israelites bear upon their bodies." This is a clear reference to brit milah, ritual circumcision, a physical reminder of the covenant between God and the Jewish people. And just as the words left his lips, the rain came, a torrential downpour that cleansed the land and renewed the people's faith.

What does this story teach us? It’s more than just a tale of miracles and divine intervention. It's a story about faith, about standing up for what you believe in, and about the power of prayer, even when the odds seem insurmountable.

Full source