Elisha and the Widow - The Rest of the
Story
There is a
story in the prophets that is seven verses long. We will read it as
it appears in written form. Then we will read it again, this time
using commentary from the Talmud. And then we will read it a third
time, using commentary from Kabbalah and Chassidus.
Kings II Chapter 4,
Verses 1-7
"One woman, a wife
of one of the prophet's student-prophets, cried out to Elisha,
saying, 'Your servant, my husband, has died, and you know that your
servant was G-d fearing. Now the creditor is coming to take my two
children to be his slaves.'
"Elisha said to
her, 'What can I do for you? Tell me, what have you in the house?'
"She said, 'Your
maid has nothing in the house except for a pitcher of oil.'
"He said, 'Go,
borrow empty vessels from all your neighbors - do not restrict the
number of vessels. Then go in and lock the door behind you and
behind your children. Pour from your pitcher of oil into all these
empty vessels, and carry away the full ones and bring the empty ones
to fill.'
"She went from him
and locked the door behind her and behind her children. They brought
vessels to her and she poured. When all the vessels were full she
said to her son, 'Bring me another vessel.'
"He said to her,
'There is not another vessel,' and the oil stopped.
"She came and told
the man of G-d, and he said, 'Go sell the oil and pay your creditor,
and you and your children will live on what will remain.'
Left to ourselves,
this is a simple enough story. A widow is in trouble, so she goes to
the prophet Elisha for help, and he makes a miracle for her. Her
pitcher of oil turns into a well of oil. Now she is able to pay off
her creditor, save her children from slavery, and she is also saved
from her dire poverty because there is something left over from the
miracle that she and her children can live on. Nice.
Let's dig a little
deeper.
The widow of one of
Elisha's student-prophets came to him because she was in trouble
with a creditor. If she didn't pay her debt, the creditor would take
away her two sons. Our Sages tell us that the woman's husband was
the Prophet Ovadiah, a minor prophet who passed away as a young man.
He left his wife with many debts because he had borrowed money to
hide and sustain 100 other prophets (Kings I, chapter 18). The widow
tells Elisha that her husband was a G-d fearing man (see Kings I,
18:3). Upon his death, the debt came due. Elisha asks her what she
has in the house, and when she tells him she has a pitcher of oil,
he tells her to borrow empty vessels from her neighbors without
stinting, and then go home, lock the door, and fill the vessels with
the oil from her pitcher. The woman borrows the vessels, goes home,
locks the door, and fills the vessels. When the vessels are already
full, she doesn't know it and asks her son to give her another
vessel. He tells her there are no more empty vessels, and the oil
stops flowing. She returns to the man of G-d and tells him what
happened, and he tells her to go and sell the oil and pay her debt.
She and her children will live on what will remain.
This time around,
we'll ask some questions. Why is this story included in the Jewish
scriptures? What does it mean? What does it teach us? What's going
on "between the lines"?
The first thing to
note is that it has always been our tradition to go to a man of G-d
for help when we have a problem. We should seek the holiest person
we can find, the prophet of the generation. The prophet will not
take it as an insult that he is being asked to help with a
non-spiritual problem. The man of G-d offers advice, or performs a
miracle, or does whatever else is necessary to help.
After the woman
told Elisha about her problem, he asked her to tell him what she had
in the house. Elisha asked her this question because even a miracle
has to begin with something physical, natural and non-miraculous. If
a miracle is completely detached from nature, then the miracle
doesn't take on real existence. In order to create something real,
there must be a connection or attachment to something already in
existence. Even a man of G-d cannot create something out of nothing;
only G-d Himself can do that. Elisha asked her what she had in the
house because he needed something to work with and he needed to know
what was available. The woman replied that she had a pitcher of oil,
so Elisha worked with the oil. The pitcher of oil became a well of
oil, and the woman was able to fill up all the empty vessels she had
obtained.
When giving his
instructions, Elisha told the woman to lock the door behind her
before pouring the oil. This doesn't seem to be a very essential
part of the story; why is it so important that she lock the door?
Even if she had to lock the door, why does the Torah tell us about
it? There are many incidents that the Torah skips. For example, the
Torah doesn't bother to say that she went out and borrowed the
vessels, and it doesn't mention how her neighbors responded - that's
all completely omitted. We are told she left the prophet, locked the
door and poured. Poured into what? So we know she went to her
neighbors and borrowed. We are not told about the borrowing itself
because it's not important and the Torah never wastes words. We are
told about locking the doors, and we're told about it twice:
"'Then go in and
lock the door behind you and behind your children. . . .'"
"She went from him
and locked the door behind her and behind her children."
What is the
importance and significance of this?
Anything G-dly and
anything holy demands modesty. A miracle, then, demands modesty.
Without the modesty, the miracle won't happen. By mentioning the
locked door twice, the Torah is emphasizing that the miracle could
not have occurred without the modesty.
Another puzzling
statement follows.
"When all the
vessels were full she said to her son, 'Bring me another vessel.'
"He said to her,
'There is not another vessel,' and the oil stopped."
Why doesn't the
Torah simply say, "When the vessels were full, the oil stopped"?
The oil did not
stop flowing by itself when the vessels were full. The Torah states
clearly that the vessels were full and yet the oil continued to flow
(i.e., the woman asked for another vessel because the oil was still
flowing). When the son said there were no more vessels, only then
did the oil stop. The miracle stopped when someone said "no more."
Had he not said that, the oil would have continued indefinitely,
because no limit was placed on how much oil was going to come out of
that pitcher. If there had been more vessels, there would have been
oil to fill them. Even when there were no more vessels, as long as
no one "turned off the tap," the oil continued pouring. When someone
said "we have no more vessels," which means, "we can't take this
miracle anymore, we can't contain it anymore," only then did the oil
stop.
From this we learn
that as long as we are able to receive goodness and holiness, that
is, as long as we have the "vessels" to contain it, it will be given
to us.
After the oil
stopped, the woman went back to the prophet and told him what had
happened. Elisha now instructed her to sell the oil. Why did she go
back to Elisha? The Talmud says that while the vessels were being
filled, the price of oil went up. The woman returned to Elisha to
find out if she should sell now, or wait for the price of oil to
rise more. Elisha told her to sell now, pay her debt, and then she
and her children will live on what is left over. The Talmud explains
that since Elisha didn't place any limit on "you and your children,"
this phrase includes all of the children's children and descendants.
Therefore, this family would be wealthy until the end of the line,
so to speak - until the resurrection of the dead. The woman and her
descendants would continue to live on "what will remain" for all
generations to come until the resurrection.
Two more questions.
Why did the woman tell Elisha that her husband was a G-d fearing
man? If he was the Prophet Ovadiah, didn't Elisha already know he
was G-d fearing? And why did the woman "happen" to have a pitcher of
oil? Why didn't she "happen" to have a pitcher of wine or a pitcher
of water or a barrel of grain or a fruit tree in the back yard?
Every word and every detail in the Torah is purposeful. The fact
that the woman had a pitcher of oil means something. What? These
questions cannot be answered at the level we just learned. We must
take another look at the story, this time with an eye on the "soul"
of the story.
The very first
chapters of the Torah tells us that G-d created the world with
speech. He said "Let there be" and so it was. When G-d said, "Let
the earth bring forth living creatures," animals were created.
Animals have "animal souls." That is, animals have a life force
which enables them to move around, to feed and defend themselves, to
procreate, etc. Most of these instincts and activities are based on
one fundamental drive: the will to survive. Man, too, was created by
Divine speech, and so man, too, has a life force and a will to
survive. But there is something more:
"G-d formed the man
of dust from the ground, and He blew into his nostrils the soul of
life; and man became a living being." (Genesis 2:7)
Something
additional and unique took place when G-d created man. Not only did
G-d say and there was, but G-d "blew into his nostrils the soul of
life." So man has an "animal soul," because "G-d said," but man also
has a "G-dly soul," because man became a living being only after G-d
blew, from His own essence, the soul of life into Adam's nostrils.
Human beings, then, are composed of earthy matter and animal souls,
but we also have an element of Divinity. One aspect of the human
being comes from "dust from the ground," and one aspect of the human
being was breathed into our bodies by G-d. These two elements, "the
animal soul" and "the G-dly soul" reside together in one body. The
body and animal soul are created first, and then the G-dly soul,
which once resided in G-d Himself, so to speak, is added.
Our story now takes
on an astonishing dimension.
"One woman, a wife
of one of the prophet's student-prophets, cried out to Elisha,
saying, 'Your servant, my husband, has died, and you know that your
servant was G-d fearing. Now the creditor is coming to take my two
children to be his slaves.'
"Elisha said to
her, 'What can I do for you? Tell me, what have you in the house?'
"She said, 'Your
maid has nothing in the house except for a pitcher of oil.' "He
said, 'Go, borrow empty vessels from all your neighbors - do not
restrict the number of vessels. Then go in and lock the door behind
you and behind your children. Pour from your pitcher of oil into all
these empty vessels, and carry away the full ones and bring the
empty ones to fill.'
"She went from him
and locked the door behind her and behind her children. They brought
vessels to her and she poured. When all the vessels were full she
said to her son, 'Bring me another vessel.'
"He said to her,
'There is not another vessel,' and the oil stopped.
"She came and told
the man of G-d, and he said, 'Go sell the oil and pay your creditor,
and you and your children will live on what will remain.'
In Hebrew, the
words for "one woman" are "Isha Echat." The Kabbalah and Chassidus
tell us that the deeper, hidden, meaning of "Isha" is "the soul of
fire" (i.e., the G-dly soul) because "Isha," is related to the
Hebrew word, "Aish," or fire.
"Isha" is a minor
prophet. A prophet is someone who hears G-d's call. The soul, every
soul, hears G-d's call and each soul is therefore a prophet. In our
story, Elisha is a man's name. In Hebrew, this word can be broken
down into two: "Eli" "Sha" - my G-d who responds.
The story, then, is
a record of a conversation between the G-dly soul and G-d Himself,
the G-d who responds. The G-dly soul comes to G-d, crying, "I served
you with a G-dly fire in Heaven. But now you have put me into a
body, and this fire is dying."
The G-dly soul is
completely spiritual. It was once united with G-d in Heaven, where
it was able to bask in His holy perfection and experience fiery love
and fear, uninhibited and undisturbed by constricting earthy
concerns. The soul was taken from this paradise and put into a body
already inhabited by an animal soul. The animal soul utterly
confuses the G-dly soul with its drives and passions for material
pursuits. The drives of the animal soul are not "bad" - but they are
not spiritual. A physical being wants to eat, to drink, to be
comfortable, and it loves physical gratification and is not by
nature concerned with G-dliness. So the love that the soul had for
G-d is now polluted with other loves. Consequently, the G-dly soul
no longer feels the G-dly fire it had previously experienced as a
matter of course.
So the soul
continues, saying, "You know that I served you with fear." When the
soul was in Heaven, it felt both a deep love for G-d and an intense
fear and awe of Him. Fear and awe is what we experience when we are
in the presence of greatness. We feel small and humble and we worry
about making a blunder or a faux pas in the presence of the great
one. When the soul was in Heaven, the Presence of G-d was
unobstructed, but now the G-dly soul, living in the body, finds that
G-d's greatness is concealed. The feeling of awe and fear is
therefore lost, so the soul is bewildered and discouraged.
To make matters
worse, the creditor, which is the animal soul, is constantly
demanding. When the G-dly soul wants to pray or do a mitzvah or
study Torah and thereby connect with G-d, the animal soul distracts
it with demands: "I want to eat. I want to drink. I want to sleep. I
want to play. I want to work." Now, though, the situation has become
desperate: "The creditor is coming to take my two children to be his
slaves."
"Children"
represent the emotions. Love and fear of G-d are born out of an
understanding of G-d, an awareness of His goodness and greatness, so
they are the two children in the story. The soul is complaining that
the animal soul not only injects its own version of love and its
fear into the picture, but "it's so demanding that it actually wants
to take my emotions to be its slaves." It wants the love of G-d to
become a love of self. It wants the fear of G-d to become a fear of
anything that will threaten my physical existence.
G-d says to the
soul, "Tell me, what do you have in the house?" The G-dly soul is a
complete structure; it has a whole set of talents. If its love and
fear are not working and feel dead, what about compassion? What
about intelligence? What about commitment? Where are the rest of the
attributes that a soul has? The soul replies, "Your maid has nothing
in the house except for a pitcher of oil."
The other
attributes are not "in the house" because the animal soul has
corrupted everything else by turning the G-dly soul's noble and
exalted expressions into desires for self-gratification, luxuries,
power and honor. True, the G-dly soul has talents, but the animal
soul also has talents which it uses to battle the corresponding G-dly
attributes.
The G-dly soul is
made up of five parts and the animal soul is made up of four parts.
The G-dly soul has emotions, the animal soul has emotions. The G-dly
soul has intellect, the animal soul has intellect. The G-dly soul
has faith, the animal soul has faith. The G-dly soul has
self-sacrifice, the animal soul has self-sacrifice.
So what's left? The
soul says to G-d, "I have nothing left except for that fifth part,
the part that the G-dly soul has and the animal soul doesn't."
What's that? The pitcher of oil. There is "nothing in the house
except for a pitcher of oil."
The obvious,
revealed part of Torah is called water because like water, it is
clear and available. The deeper part of Torah is called wine. Wine
is not readily available; it's hidden in the grape. Wine has to be
extracted from the grape and pressed and aged. It therefore
represents the deeper part of Torah, and we have to dig a little to
find it. The essence of Torah is called the oil. The oil in olives
is more difficult to extract than is wine from a grape. It therefore
represents the essence of Torah which is not easily available or
visible. All of this likewise applies to the soul. There is a part
of the soul that is visible and obvious and available (water).
There's a part of the soul that is deep and mystical and hidden
(wine). And there's the essence of the soul, the oil.
The soul says, "I
have nothing left, no G-dly talents that are pure and uncorrupted by
the animal soul. So what's left is just the core, the essence of the
soul, its G-dliness, its Jewishness." This is described as an oil
pitcher because the body is like a pitcher which contains this oil.
G-d says to the
soul, "Go and gather empty vessels - as many as you can." An empty
vessel, according to the Talmud, is a mitzvah performed without
feeling, i.e., a body without a soul. G-d is saying to the soul, "Do
mitzvahs without feeling. Gather as many empty vessels as you can
get. Don't minimize the value of this empty vessel - you will pour
your oil into those empty vessels."
The soul's
complaint is, "How can I do a mitzvah when I don't love G-d or fear
G-d? I just don't feel anything. I don't feel G-dliness and I don't
feel inspired." G-d responds, "An empty vessel should not be
disparaged. In fact, an empty vessel can be great, precisely because
it's empty." When a person does a mitzvah with love and fear, he's
using the love and fear that come from his understanding, his
spirituality, his love of G-d, his desire to get into Heaven. He
feels inspired, he feels holy, he feels spiritual. There's a lot of
self involved. But if a person has nothing to pour into his mitzvah
because he doesn't experience these G-dly emotions, all he has
available to pour is his oil, that is, his essence. He does the
mitzvah not because he loves G-d, not because he's spiritual, not
because he's inspired - but because he's a Jew. He pours his
identity into the mitzvah, his essential being.
We've all heard
stories about irreligious Jews who were told to bow to a cross. The
Jew won't do it. Why? Because someone is tampering with his oil. He
refuses to bow to the cross not because he loves G-d, fears G-d, is
inspired, is turned on to Judaism - none of the above. He says no
because he's a Jew.
When the soul
leaves Heaven and enters a body, it is shocked. It had a completely
spiritual and holy existence but suddenly finds itself in the body
of a baby. All the baby wants to do is eat and be pampered. As the
child grows up, the soul says, "I don't understand. What is this?
What am I supposed to do now? Sure, I can do a mitzvah, but what
kind of mitzvah is it? I'm going to do a mitzvah while I'm thinking
about eating? It's all lost, it's gone, I'm destroyed." G-d
responds, "It was holier in Heaven and in Heaven you did have a
strong love and a strong fear and deep emotions and so on, and
that's great for Heaven. But here there's something even greater -
an empty vessel into which you pour your oil. The empty vessel is a
pure vessel because your holy feelings are very nice but also very
messy because they're YOURS, and that's messy. An empty vessel
allows the mitzvah to just be itself. You're not tampering with it.
So when you pour your oil into the mitzvah, now you've got an
incredible combination of pure mitzvah and pure soul. In Heaven you
never even discover the oil of the soul because there's no reason to
go any deeper than the wine. But on earth, being challenged by the
animal soul's wine, the G-dly soul has to dig deeper and come up
with its oil. This oil is a well of oil that will never run out. It
will fill as many empty vessels, mitzvahs, as you want. Therefore,
obtain as many vessels as you can and don't stint! If you do this,
then you AND your children will be alive until the resurrection."
I would venture to
say that when we read this story the first time, nobody thought it
was about the soul coming to G-d and crying about its condition. The
story is included in the Jewish scriptures to address the person who
says something like: "I feel Jewish in my heart, but I feel
uncomfortable about doing mitzvahs because I have no conscious sense
of G-d or G-dliness. Doing some ancient ritual that I don't
understand makes me feel ridiculous." This story says to such a
person, "Don't worry. Do the mitzvah anyway. Your feelings are
understandable; you went through the trauma of separating from G-d
and losing your G-dly talents. But the secret is to dig deeper, dig
until you reach the oil of your soul. When you do this, there is
going to be a profit, a remainder. You are going to receive a profit
because you gave up Heaven and invested in earth. You gave up the
feelings of love and fear that you had for free in Heaven. You were
put in a body with an animal soul and there you went past your
understanding and your desires and your sense of self until you
reached the oil. The feelings of love and fear, your children, were
born anew, this time born from your own essence. This time your love
and fear can't be lost or taken from you. Instead, both you and your
children will live until the resurrection."
The soul has levels
that resemble water, wine and oil. The problem is that between the
wine and the oil there is a blank space. Between the wine, which is
the finest of a person's talents, and the oil, we feel nothing. When
we go past the wine, our talents have ended and it's like being in
outer space; we're not on earth and we're not on the sun. We're in a
cold, black, empty void. So the soul cries, "What happened?" G-d
responds, "It's OK, that emptiness is only the space between the
wine and the oil. The oil is the essence of the soul and the soul is
G-dly. So don't stop - pour your oil into the mitzvah. From the oil
you will have wine and you will have water. Everything will come
back, only this time it will be Divine instead of human because it
will be born from your G-dly essence."
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Copyright It's Good To Know™
Inc. - 2003/5763
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