They get collected, woven into something beautiful, something divine. And that's where Sandalphon comes in.
Sandalphon. It's a name that resonates with power. He's described as one of the greatest, mightiest angels – a truly fiery being! And his job? To weave garlands for God out of the prayers of Israel. Imagine that: your words, your hopes, your fears, transformed into something fit for the Divine.
But that's not all Sandalphon does. The destruction of the Temple in Jerusalem, the Beit Hamikdash… it was devastating. But some traditions suggest that its destruction was only apparent. That in reality, it continues to exist, hidden from our everyday sight. And in this invisible sanctuary, Sandalphon offers up sacrifices. A powerful image, isn’t it? A reminder that even in times of loss, something sacred endures.
Now, let's talk about Elijah, or Eliyahu HaNavi as he's known. We all know the story: Elijah taken up to heaven in a whirlwind. But did that mark the end of his involvement with us? Quite the opposite, actually! It was almost the beginning of his real work, his true calling as a helper, a teacher, a guide.
Initially, his interventions were rare. The Zohar, that foundational text of Jewish mysticism, hints at the immense power and responsibility he now carried. One of the earliest recorded instances is a letter he wrote to the wicked King Jehoram of Judah seven years after his ascent. Think about the weight of that message, delivered from a prophet who now walked in the heavenly realms!
But perhaps one of the most dramatic examples of Elijah's continued involvement comes during the story of Purim. Remember Haman, the villainous advisor to King Ahasuerus who plotted to destroy the Jews? According to tradition, Elijah played a crucial, albeit disguised, role in foiling Haman’s plans. He assumed the guise of Harbonah, a courtier, and at just the right moment, he turned the king against Haman. As Ginzberg retells it in Legends of the Jews, this seemingly chance event was actually a carefully orchestrated intervention by Elijah himself.
So, what does all this mean? What are we supposed to take away from these stories of angels and prophets intervening in human affairs? Maybe it's this: that even when we feel most alone, most vulnerable, we are not forgotten. Our prayers are heard. Help is always possible, sometimes from the most unexpected sources. And perhaps, just perhaps, the line between heaven and earth is thinner than we think.