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The Staff That Did Nothing Because the Servant Doubted

Elisha sent his servant ahead with his staff to revive a dead child. The boy did not move. The rabbis knew exactly why the wood failed.

Curated by Arthur · Told by Maggid ·
Table of Contents
  1. The Staff on the Boy's Face
  2. What the Staff Was and What It Required
  3. What Elisha Did When He Arrived
  4. What the Tradition Says About Gehazi

The Staff on the Boy's Face

Gehazi arrived at the house before Elisha did. He had the prophet's staff in his hands and his instructions: go, lay it on the boy's face. The Shunamite woman had built Elisha a room on her roof and fed him whenever he came through. Her son had been born from a blessing the prophet had spoken over her, a son she had not asked for and had not expected. Now the son was dead, and she had ridden hard to find Elisha and bring him back, and Elisha had sent his servant ahead with the instrument of his authority.

Gehazi laid the staff on the boy's face.

Nothing happened. The boy's chest did not move. His eyes did not open. He was as dead as he had been when his mother laid him on Elisha's bed.

Pirkei DeRabbi Eliezer, the early medieval narrative midrash from Palestine, does not leave the staff's failure unexplained. Gehazi had gone through the streets asking people whether they thought a staff could raise the dead. The mission was laughable in his eyes. He was carrying the prophet's instrument without the prophet's faith, and the staff in the hands of someone who did not believe in what it was for was a piece of wood.

What the Staff Was and What It Required

Moses had a staff. Elijah had a mantle. These were not magical objects in the sense of objects that operated independently of the person holding them. They were extensions of the prophet himself, channels for divine energy flowing through a human agent who was aligned with the source of that energy. The channel had to be clear. The person holding the instrument had to be the kind of person through whom the instrument could work.

Gehazi was not that person at that moment. He held the staff and walked through the streets undermining his own mission. By the time the staff touched the boy, there was nothing moving through it from above because the one carrying it was actively cutting off the current with his skepticism. Elisha had to come himself.

What Elisha Did When He Arrived

He went into the room and closed the door. He prayed. Then he lay on the child, his mouth on the child's mouth, his eyes on the child's eyes, his hands on the child's hands, and the child's flesh grew warm. Elisha got up and walked around in the room and lay on the child again, and the child sneezed seven times and opened his eyes.

The contrast between Gehazi's performance and Elisha's is total. Gehazi sent the instrument and kept himself separate. Elisha gave his body to the work, made himself the medium of contact, and repeated the effort. Legends of the Jews notes that Elisha performed sixteen miracles in his lifetime, doubling the eight of Elijah. The doubling was the fulfillment of the double portion of spirit he had asked for at the Jordan. But double portions carry double obligations: the more power, the less margin for the detachment that Gehazi embodied.

What the Tradition Says About Gehazi

Gehazi's story does not end well. After the healing of the Shunamite's son, Naaman the Aramean commander came to Elisha for healing from his skin disease and was healed. Elisha refused any payment. Gehazi ran after Naaman secretly and claimed gifts in Elisha's name and hid them. When Elisha asked where he had been and Gehazi denied it, the disease of Naaman came upon Gehazi and upon his descendants forever.

Legends of the Jews records that Elisha's severity with Gehazi was part of a pattern of severity that shortened his own life. The rabbinic tradition holds that Elisha fell ill three times, that his illnesses were connected to the harshness he showed his disciples, and that the man who had raised a dead child eventually died of his third illness. The tradition also preserves the most remarkable fact of his burial: another body, thrown into Elisha's tomb, revived on contact with his bones. The prophet who had lain on a dead child to raise him was still raising the dead from his grave.


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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.

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.

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Pirkei DeRabbi Eliezer 33:8Pirkei DeRabbi Eliezer

Let me tell you a story from Pirkei DeRabbi Eliezer that might sound familiar. It's about miracles, doubt, and what it really takes to bring something back to life.

You remember Elijah. The one who ascended to heaven in a whirlwind! Big shoes to fill, for sure.

Anyway, Elisha is faced with a tragedy: a child has died. He sends his servant, Gehazi, ahead with his staff, instructing him to lay it on the boy's face. Simple enough. But Gehazi… well, Gehazi wasn't exactly a believer.

The whole thing was "laughable in his eyes." Can you imagine? He goes around asking people, "You really think this stick is going to raise the dead?" Seriously undermining the mission!

And guess what? Nothing happens. The staff, in Gehazi's hands, is just a piece of wood.

So Elisha has to go himself. And this is where it gets interesting. He doesn't just wave his hand or speak a command. He identifies with the child, completely and utterly. The text says he put his face upon the face, his eyes upon the eyes, his hands upon the hands. He becomes a mirror image of the boy.

Then, he prays. And what does he say? "Sovereign of all the worlds! Just as Thou didst perform miracles by the hand of Elijah, my master, and brought the dead to life, likewise let this child live." He acknowledges the past, the legacy of his teacher, and asks for that same power to flow through him.

He doesn't just pray once, either. (2 (Kings 4:3)5) tells us, "Then he returned, and walked in the house once to and fro; and went up, and stretched himself upon him." He pours his energy, his very being, into this act. He walks back and forth, building up the tension, the anticipation. He stretches himself out on the child again. More identification. More prayer.

And finally, "the child sneezed seven times." Seven times! Life returning, breath by breath. A miracle.

What’s the takeaway here? Is it just about Elisha’s power? I don't think so. It's about the power of belief, the necessity of empathy, and the corrosive effect of doubt. Gehazi's skepticism became a self-fulfilling prophecy. He couldn't perform the miracle because he didn't believe it was possible. Elisha, on the other hand, threw himself completely into the task, body and soul.

So, the next time you're facing a seemingly impossible situation, ask yourself: Are you approaching it with the faith of Elisha, or the skepticism of Gehazi? And what "staff" are you holding that needs a little more belief to work its magic?

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Legends of the Jews 8:16Legends of the Jews

The Talmud (Sotah 47a) suggests that Elisha's unwavering severity – remember his harsh treatment of his servant Gehazi and the mocking boys of Jericho? – didn't go unnoticed by the Divine. It's as if the universe has a way of balancing things out. According to rabbinic tradition, he endured not one, but two periods of illness, and ultimately, a third sickness led to his passing.

That Elisha was actually the first person in history to survive an illness. Before him, sickness and death were considered inseparable companions. A fascinating idea, isn’t it? It challenges our understanding of life and death in the ancient world.

What a life it was, filled with miracles! But perhaps the most remarkable occurred at the very end. Imagine this: a funeral procession, grief hanging heavy in the air. Suddenly, raiders appear! Panic erupts. In the chaos, a dead man is accidentally jostled against the bier (the frame or stand on which a corpse is carried) of the prophet Elisha. And then. a miracle! The dead man revives, standing on his feet, brought back to life by the mere touch of Elisha's remains!

Ginzberg, in his masterful Legends of the Jews, identifies this resurrected man as Shallum, the son of Tikvah and husband of Huldah the prophetess. A righteous man of noble lineage. Midrash Rabbah (Numbers 9:24) paints a beautiful picture of Shallum: he was known for his acts of chesed (Lovingkindness), loving-kindness. Every day, he would venture outside the city gates, offering water from his pitcher to weary travelers. This selfless act, the text implies, earned him a double reward: his wife becoming a prophetess, and later, his miraculous return to life.

The story continues, explaining that Shallum's funeral procession was interrupted by an invasion of Arameans. It was during this disturbance that his body came into contact with Elisha's bones, sparking the divine intervention. He went on to live and father a son named Hanamel.

This tale, found in Legends of the Jews, is more than just a fantastical story. It’s a potent reminder of the power of selfless acts, the enduring legacy of righteous individuals, and the mysterious ways in which life and death intertwine. It leaves us pondering: what seemingly small acts of kindness might have ripple effects far beyond what we can imagine?

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