Fired Up

The Haftorah for Parshas Ki Sisa comes from Sefer Melachim, and includes the Pessukim which describe the standoff between Eliyahu Hanavi and the Neviei HaBaal which took place on Har HaCarmel. As with all stories mentioned in Tanach, we must resist the urge to think of this episode as mere legend, and instead try to find the message that reverberates in our lives.

In order to appreciate the meaning of the story, we must of course understand how it came to pass. As the Navi tells us at the beginning of the Haftorah, and in the Perakim prior, the Melech Yisroel at the time was Achav who led Bnei Yisroel astray and into the service of Ba’al, causing a drought that lasted three years. After that time, Eliyahu was told by Hashem to confront Achav so that rain could once more fall. Hoping to demonstrate the primacy of the Dvar Hashem, Eliyahu issues a challenge to the Neviei HaBaal: he and they would both place a Par on a Mizbeach without fire and then Daven, they to Baal and he to Hashem, that a fire descend to consume the Korban. If they were successful, offered Eliyahu, Baal would be proven to be the most powerful, but if his Teffilos were answered, the Derech Hashem would carry the day, so to speak.

As the Pessukim continue, Eliyahu’s intent is made clear. He wished to force Klal Yisroel to answer a basic question: “Ad Masai Atem Poschim Al Shetei HaSiifim?”, how long could they linger in deciding between Hashem and Baal? Eliyahu placed before them something of an ultimatum: “Im Hahsem HaElokim Lechu Acharav V’Im Habaal Lechu Acharav”, if they were to determine that the Derech Hashem is the true path, follow that, and if not, follow Baal. It was his hope, then, that the demonstration on Har HaCarmel would allow them to find the Emes once and for all.

That said, although Eliyahu’s goals are understood, his methods are somewhat curious. In the most general sense we can wonder why Eliyahu chose this sort of a trial, almost a competition between the two paths, to force the issue? There are many ways for Hakadosh Baruch Hu to assert his Melucha, why did Eliyahu need this arrangement? As we learn the Pessukim, however, the questions become even perhaps stronger.

The Pessukim first describe the failed attempt of the Neviei HaBaal to bring their Korban. They cried out to Baal from morning to afternoon, “V’Ain Kol V’Ain Oneh”, there was no response. They performed happy dances around the Mizbeach, and still there was no answer. Finally, they slashed themselves with knives and spears “Ad Shefech Dam Alehem”, until they were dripping with blood, but they still received no answer. In fact, the Navi tells us that in middle of the day, as they tried in vain to get their god to answer them, Eliyahu began to openly mock the Neviei HaBaal, suggesting that perhaps their deity was busy or resting.

As the day wore on, and it became clear that Baal would not respond to his petitioners, Eliyahu made the preparations to bring his own Korban. He built a Mizbeach out of stone, and then dug a very large ditch around it. After arranging wood, and then the Korban itself. upon the Mizbeach, Eliyahu issues an interesting set of instructions: “Milu Arba Kadim Mayim V’Yitzku Al Haolah V’al HaEtzim.” He told those who were with him to fill four jugs of water and spill it upon the wood and the Korban itself. The Passuk then tells us that they repeated this process three times, until the water ran down the Mizbeach and filled the trench. It was only after this process was complete that Eliyahu began to Daven to Hashem, at which time a heavenly fire descended and consumed everything there: “VaTochel Es HaOlah, V’Es HaEtzim V’Es HaAvanim V’Es HaAfar V’Es HaMayim Asher B’Tealah Licheha”. Even the water was consumed. As we know, this caused Bnei Yisroel to admit the Malchus of Hahsem, which brought the drought to an end.

As we consider the actions of Eliyahu Hanavi, we must of course wonder why he took the extra step of pouring water all over the Mizbeach and the Korban that he wished to bring—why was this part of the process?

Rashi, obviously sensitive to this question, explains why Eliyahu did this with three simple words: “LiHagdil Es HaNes”. Eliyahu wished to magnify the Nes that Hashem would send, and so he issued this instruction. Wet wood is not generally the best fuel, and so by taking this step Eliyahu caused the Nes, and the ensuing Kiddush Hahsem to be greater. Radak notes that not only was the wet wood consumed by the fire, but when the fire reached the water that had gathered in the ditch it should have been extinguished, but instead it lapped the water up, an even greater Nes.

In fact, the Nes may have been even greater. In describing these events, Tanna Divei Eliyahu asks how it is possible for the Kadei Mayim to have filled this enormous trench. The Medrash explains that Eliyahu instructed Elisha to pour the water onto his hands, and springs then erupted from Eliyahu’s fingertips, flowing until the trench was full.

We see then that there was a great emphasis on ensuring that the entire area was wet, as Rashi tells us “LiHagdil Es HaNes”, for no other reason than to increase the Nes. This is itself confounding. Generally we do not try and increase the impact of a Nes, we try to decrease it in any way possible. For example, if an Esh is coming from Shamayim, wood is not really needed as fuel, but Eliyahu placed it there because we try to hew to Teva as much as possible, even when a Nes is in the offing. Why then would he go out of his way to soak the Korban, the wood and all the surrounding area just “LiHagdil Es HaNes”?

Of course we must also ask why, if there was a need to increase the Nes, it was done through water. There are other ways to highlight the Yad Hashem, why was this the method selected by Eliyahu Hanavi?

It is clear that the concept of “LiHagdil Es HaNes” is not as simple as it seems. There must have been a reason that Eliyahu specifically wished to be Magdil the Nes, and why he did so through water.

Adding to the notion is the fact that there seems to have been intent in the way the water was poured as well. Radak notes that each of the four jugs was emptied three times, representing the three Avos Hakedoshim, for a total of twelve jugfuls, one each for the Shevatim. We must then understand this symbolism—why was the water poured in a way that represented the Avos and the Shevatim?

This question is itself magnified by the fact that the Passuk earlier tells us, as the Radak points out, that Eliyahu used twelve stones to build his Mizbeach “ Kimispar Shivti Bnei Yaakov”. If the Shivtei Kah were already explicitly represented in the construction of the Mizbeach itself, why was it necessary to use twelve jugfuls to symbolize them as well? It would seem that in order to answer these questions, and fully understand the meaning behind the actions of Eliyahu Hanavi, we must first understand just what he was fighting.

It is not clear, in the Pessukim, what the Avodah Zarah of Ba’al was. We know that there was a strong attraction to this particular Avodah Zarah, but we don’t know what they were Oved, so to speak. Abarbanel, on these Pessukim, asserts that the answer lies in the name of the Avodah Zarah: Baal, which means master. He suggests that those who served Baal worshipped the sun, which is the “Ohr Gadol HaMoshel Bayom”, the master of the sky. The Avodah Zarah of Baal would therefore seem to be a “classic” Avodah Zarah: the Rambam at the beginning of Hilchos Avodah Zarah explains that worshipping the celestial beings was the very first form of Avodah Zarah, dating back to the days of Enosh.

Lest we think that the Yetzer Harah for Baal was a silly fixation, perhaps a primitive understanding of the way the world works, it is important to understand what the Shemesh represents.

The Maharal, in Tiferes Yisroel explains that there are two parts to the world: the Olam of Teva, nature, and man himself. he posits that these are two separate parts because the entire world was created for man, and it would not be logical that the Adon and the Eved were created at once. Rather, he assumes that there is an Olam of Teva separate from mankind itself.

Every part of the Briah requires a Melech, a ruler, and the Maharal explains that the sun, the Shemesh, is the Melech of the Chelek HaTeva. Everything that occurs in the Teva—the seasons, the weather, plant growth and so on—Is in some way tied to the sun and so this is seen to be the force that “rules” Teva. This is in addition to the fact that the sun is referred to as a Moshel in the Passuk, as Abarbanel points out.

It emerges, then, according to the Abarbanel and the Maharal, that those who worshipped Baal were not just obsessed with the most powerful of the celestial beings, they venerated Teva itself. Eliyahu was not up against people who would rather be Oved the Shemesh that Hakadosh Baruch Hu, he faced those who lived in the world of Teva above all else, and worshipped the Melech of their world.

With this in mind, we can well understand his actions.

The Gemarah in Yoma tells us that six types of fire exist in the world. The first type is “Ocheles V’Aino Shoseh”, it eats but does not drink, meaning that it consumes solid material but not liquid. As the Gemrah puts it, Ha Didan, this is the fire that we are most familiar with, it is the fire of the Olam HaTeva. This would have been the fire that the Niviei HaBaal understood, the one that is most closely related to their worldview.

Eliyahu, in the hopes of drawing those who followed Baal back into the fold, wished to show them there was another way, and so he created a situation in which the common fire, that of Teva would be powerless. Indeed, the Gemrah notes that there is another type of fire which is “Ocheles V’Shoseh”, which is the fire of Eliyahu that consumed both solid and liquid. Eliyahu soaked the Mizbeach and the Eitzim, the Korban itself and the entire surrounding area to show that there was a path of L’Maalah Min HaTeva, above the Teva.

Perhaps this is why the Avos and Shevatim were alluded to by the water itself—this too was part of the message. The Ramban in Parshas Bechukosai writes: “Ki Bihiyos Yisroel Shleimim V’Hem Rabbim Lo Yisnahagu B’Inyanam Teva Klal”. When Klal Yisroel is united, and complete, Teva has no part in their existence. If we are united, and acting as we ought to, we as a nation, live outside the world of Teva. When the twelve Shevatim live in the path of the Avos Hakedoshim, we can be Zoche to an existence well beyond that of the Chelek HaTeva. Our lives will not be confined by the laws of Teva, we will have the ability to enjoy an Esh that is Ocheles V’Shoseh.

Eliyahu did not only wish to draw people away from Baal, he wanted to bring them Tachas Kanfei Hashechina. He knew that in order to do so, however, he would have to show that he had something to offer that was more attractive than the world of Teva. He therefore set up a situation in which both would be accomplished. He knew that the Baal would be powerless on Har Hacarmel: how could the Melech of Teva act supernaturally, bringing fire from Shamayim? But he also wanted to be Magdil the Nes, showing that the fire sent by Hashem was, by its very nature, L’Malah Min Hateva, and that we could be Zoche to that level if we united as a Klal.

When we learn the story of Eliyahu B’Har Hacarmel, it can serve as a reminder that we too may find ourselves too focused on the Olam Hateva, from time to time. We may lose sight of all we can achieve if we live in the Chelek HaAdam, removed in a way from Teva. Such an existance would allow us to reach unimagined heights in the Olam Haruchani, if only we too could stop being Poschim Al Shetei HaSiifim.