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The Israel Koschitzky Virtual Beit Midrash

 

Themes and ideas in the haftara

 

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This haftara series is dedicated in memory
of our beloved Chaya Leah bat Efrayim Yitzchak
(Mrs. Claire Reinitz), zichronah livracha,
by her family.

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Ki-Tisa

Rav Mosheh Lichtenstein

 

 

            The haftara of Parashat Ki-Tisa (I Melakhim 18:1-39) recounts one of the most famous stories in the Early Prophets – the prophet Eliyahu's contest with the prophets of Ba'al on Mount Carmel. This story raises several fundamental questions, both on the halakhic level and on the conceptual-theological plain. It has been treated at length by commentators, thinkers, and halakhists from the time of Chazal until our very day. Needless to say, we cannot address all these questions in this framework, and we are forced to limit ourselves to a single element.

 

            The haftara opens with God's command to Eliyahu to appear before Achav and thus bring an end to the drought that followed in the wake of Eliyahu's decree against the wicked king of Israel. As may be recalled, Eliyahu had taken an oath, owing to the king's wickedness: "As the Lord, the God of Israel, lives, before whom I stand, there shall not be dew nor rain these years, but according to my word" (I Melakhim 17:1), and thus brought severe damage to the country's vegetation and hunger and great suffering to man and beast alike. The opening verses of our chapter describe a difficult situation of drought and parchedness resulting from a lack of rain.

 

By commanding Eliyahu, "Go show yourself unto Achav," God in effect instructs Eliyahu to change his strategy regarding the evil king and the people subject to his rule. Eliyahu's approach, up until that point, involved zealotry on behalf of God and applying strict justice to the king and the people, while cutting off all contact with them. If we consider the prophet's actions in the previous chapter, we see that the drought came about as a result of Eliyahu's personal initiative, rather than a decree issued by God. It was not the King, King of kings, who was zealous for His name, but rather His prophet, of flesh and blood, who, wishing to prevent a great desecration of His name, caused the rain to stop falling. In the words of Chazal, "Eliyahu defended the honor of the father, but not of the son," and because of his zealotry for the honor of Heaven, he was especially harsh with Achav and the people. This is a policy of applying the attribute of justice with all its severity against the people, and this is the policy that Eliyahu adopted. Rabbi Yose aptly expressed this in the following exposition (Sanhedrin 113a):

 

Rabbi Yose taught in Sepphoris: Father Eliyahu was a hot tempered man. Now, he [Eliyahu] used to visit him, but [after this] he absented himself three days and did not come. When he came on the fourth day, he [Rabbi Yose] said to him: Why did you not come before? He replied: [Because] you called me hot tempered. He retorted: But before us [you] Master have displayed [your] temper!

 

            Eliyahu's temper was also accompanied by withdrawal from the people, which was made necessary by Achav's fury, as is explained in our haftara, but also seems to reflect detachment from the people – just as his flight to the wilderness after the episode on Mount Carmel was driven by that same desire to withdraw from the sinful people and by his loathing of their wickedness, and did not stem exclusively from the danger to his person. And for this reason he mentions both factors ("I have been very jealous for the Lord, the God of hosts; for the children of Israel have forsaken Your covenant, thrown down Your altars, and slain Your prophets with the sword; and I, even I only, am left; and they seek my life, to take it away"; I Melakhim 19:10). This is the flip side of Eliyahu's attribute of absolute truth.

 

            It seems, however, that the story of Eliyahu's withdrawal is more complicated, and that it is more than just the prophet's decision to distance himself from the people out of fear and disappointment, in the sense of "one who is under a ban by the Master is deemed under a ban by the disciple," for underlying his leaving there was a Divine command. As may be recalled, after Eliyahu decreed that no rain should fall, he was commanded by God to remove himself from the people and hide in an isolated wadi, where he would be maintained by ravens.[1] God's order to Eliyahu was not merely a security warning or good advice, but an educational message that was meant to teach him that his extreme approach distances himself from human society. The severe way in which Eliyahu was stretching the attribute of justice would not allow the world to continue to exist. Eliyahu's removal from society was meant to teach him that his expectations were too high and his actions too extreme. In the way that he chose, human society can not exist, with only a few select individuals such as himself being maintained through personal providence. Is it conceivable that the world can continue to exist when human beings must depend upon ravens for their food?[2] What should all the average people do who do not merit personal miraculous providence; how can they survive? Is this the way to revive the world? It seems that God wants to allude to Eliyahu that it is impossible to run the world in this manner (or, at the very least, that this can only be a very temporary measure), and that the decision that was taken at the time of Creation was to create the world with the attribute of lovingkindness, and not with the attribute of justice. As the midrash says (based on a verse in Tehilim): God cast the truth of the attribute of justice to the ground and in its place there grew a new and softer truth, that expresses the approach of the attribute of mercy, and recognizes human weaknesses as a given in the material world.[3]

 

            From a different perspective, it can be said that Eliyahu was acting on the basis of a deep truth that rests on the principles of providence, but without taking into consideration the human suffering following in its wake. The mind and the intellect dictate the withholding of rain as the proper response to the wickedness of the kingdom of Israel, but how can the heart see the suffering that will become the lot of the people? His removal from society was a direct consequence of his demand that the rain stop falling. For how could Eliyahu live among the people without feeling human compassion for his neighbors and acquaintances and sensing from the bottom of his heart that his oath cannot be implemented? He was, therefore, told that his demand compels him to leave society, for it would be humanly impossible to remain in its midst.

 

            Of course, after a certain period of time, the drought began to show its signs; the stream dried up, the hunger began, the suffering increased, and God decided that Eliyahu must leave his solipsistic existence, return to and become involved with society, feel the people's distress in the difficult times that befell them, and experience feelings of compassion and understanding for them. He, therefore, commands Eliyahu to leave his place of seclusion at wadi Karit and go to the Tzarfati woman. Chazal already pointed out that this was the objective of his being sent to the woman (Sanhedrin 113a):

"And it came to pass after a while, that the brook dried up, because there had been no rain in the land." Now, when [God] saw that the world was distressed [because of the drought], it is written: "And the word of the Lord came unto him, saying, Arise, get you to Tzarefat." And it is further written: "And it came to pass after these things, that the son of the woman, the mistress of the house, fell sick." Eliyahu prayed that the keys of resurrection might be given him, but was answered: Three keys have not been entrusted to an agent: of birth, rain, and resurrection.[4] Shall it be said: Two are in the hands of the disciple and [only] one in the hand of the Master? Bring [Me] the other and take this one, as it is written: "Go, show yourself unto Achav; and I will send rain upon the earth." A certain Galilean expounded before Rav Chisda: If one should make an analogy in respect of Eliyahu, what does this matter resemble? A man who locked his gate and lost the key.

 

            Eliyahu's going to the poor woman, who owing to her poverty isn't even able to offer him bread, restores him to society and brings him face to face with its hardships. It is she who when her (only?) son becomes sick will bring him to pray for mercy and compassion from God. When he visits the Tzarfati woman, Eliyahu feels the human brotherhood from which he had been detached during his stay at the wadi, and he once again connects with the life of the average person who must struggle with the adversities of life. It seems then that the purpose of his being sent to her was to bring him back to a state in which he can pray and offer supplication for the woman and her child.

 

            And, indeed, Eliyahu no longer asks God for one of the Divine keys in order to punish the people by way of a course that leads to human suffering, but instead he asks for a key that is wholly mercy and healing. Exchanging the key for rain, which was used to execute the attribute of strict justice, for the key for resurrection to execute the attribute of mercy, expresses the change which came over him. The request to return the key for rain before taking the key for resurrection expresses a twofold principle. On the one hand, it says something about the relationship between the Creator and His creatures, and that one must not cross the line that separates between God and mortals. But it also gives expression to the principle of leadership based on compassion and the attribute of mercy that replaces the attribute of justice.

 

            All this takes place in the chapter that precedes our haftara, and that which happens in our haftara is a continuation of it. Eliyahu's going to the Tzarfati woman was the beginning of a process, but it was not enough. We are dealing with compassion for an individual family with which he has a strong connection and which desires to act kindly towards him, and this is the first step to a change in attitude. The next step is change in his behavior on the communal level and on the plain of his overall policy regarding the people and the king. This necessitates cancellation of the decree that stopped the rain and providing a comprehensive solution to the problem of the drought, and not just to an isolated family. Moreover, what is needed is a return to natural governance and a normal agricultural cycle, for a community cannot rely for the long term on miracles, as did the Tzarfati woman.

 

            This point seems to underlie the Gemara's criticism about Eliyahu:

 

A certain Galilean expounded before Rav Chisda: If one should make an analogy in respect of Eliyahu, what does this matter resemble? A man who locked his gate and lost the key.[5]

 

            Even though Eliyahu took steps to bring the child back to life, he still did nothing to solve the problem of the drought that threatened the entire community.

 

            It is precisely at this point that our haftara begins. God takes the initiative and orders Eliyahu to appear before Achav. Eliyahu had stopped the rain on his own initiative, but the rain is returned on God's initiative, and the first step is Eliyahu's return to society. One cannot stop the rain and then disappear, but rather one must be involved with society and struggle with its difficulties, and if that requires a confrontation with Achav, that is better than detaching oneself from the nation and its situation. Therefore, Eliyahu is commanded to go back to Achav and confront him. Just as Moshe came down from the mountain and confronted the calf-worshippers, rather than remain outside the camp, so too it falls upon Eliyahu to return. It must be emphasized that returning to the people and confronting the problem of idol worship does not necessarily require compromise or waiver. Just as Moshe adopted the drastic step of civil war, so too Eliyahu will be forced to opt for the difficult alternative of killing the prophets of Ba'al. However, dealing with a difficult situation is preferable to disappearing and hiding out, and therefore Eliyahu is commanded to return to Achav.[6]

 

            However, before Eliyahu meets Achav, we meet Ovadyahu, who is the total opposite of Eliyahu, and for this reason the prophet describes the meeting between them. Were it the chapter's objective only to describe what happened on Mount Carmel, it would not have been necessary to tell us which of Achav's aides Eliyahu met and then arranged the meeting between him and Achav, and it would have sufficed to say that Eliyahu and Achav met. Do we know which of Pharaoh's aides brought Moshe in to see Pharaoh and told him about Moshe's arrival? Of course, not, the reason being that this is a totally technical point that neither advances the plot, nor interests the Torah or its readers. Shining the floodlights on the meeting between Ovadyahu and Eliyahu emphasizes the importance of that meeting and the contrary approaches that each of them represents.

 

            Ovadyahu, like Eliyahu, is a righteous man who struggled with the challenges of serving God in a generation of a wicked kingdom. On the one hand, he testifies about himself that he "feared the Lord from my youth," and he is even described by Scripture as a righteous man. Moreover, Ovadyahu achieved what few characters in Scripture attained, i.e., the crown of the fear of God, when Scripture itself recognizes his profound fear of God and testifies about it: "Now Ovadyahu feared the Lord greatly." Chazal noted the uniqueness of this account, and added to and sharpened the praise of Ovadyahu on the part of the prophet (Sanhedrin 39b):

 

Rabbi Abba said: Greater [praise] was expressed of Ovadyahu than of Avraham, since of Avraham the word "greatly" is not used, while of Ovadyahu it is.

 

            Moreover, Chazal further sharpened Ovadyahu's righteousness and created a full parallel between him and Eliyahu by asserting that Ovadyahu is the prophet whose prophesies entered Scripture as the prophet Ovadya.[7]

 

            On the other hand, it is Ovadyahu who was appointed over the house of Achav, had a senior position in the court, was close to the king and served as his confidante who accompanied him as his sole aide on a sensitive mission. It is easy to imagine the doubts that passed through his mind: Should he leave Achav's house and resign together with the rest of the persecuted prophets, and thus not be a partner in the wicked kingdom of Achav? Or perhaps he should stay in office, exert his influence over Achav as a counterweight to Izevel – for Achav like many other ancient kings, was exposed to twofold influence, that of his wife on the family level, and that of his political advisors on the political level, and who knows what advice Achav would receive were Ovadyahu to quit his position – and even protect those prophets who were in hiding, they being the spiritual future of Israel during this period? Indeed, it is not far-fetched to think that had Ovadyahu left Achav's house and joined the prophets, it would have been very difficult, if not impossible to protect and feed them. Where would they have gotten their food in times of dearth, when they were in hiding and not moving about among the people? Where would they have gotten their nutrition when they were being persecuted, without exposing themselves? It is most reasonable to assume that it was only Ovadyahu's presence in the house of Achav – which gave him access to the royal food storehouses and exposed him to internal information that was translated into warnings to the prophets in hiding – that protected them. It is important to emphasize that these prophets were the remnant that survived who were capable of transmitting the tradition and passing on words of prophecy in hiding and in secrecy to those thirsty for the word of God, and who were the spiritual counterweight to the prophets of the Ba'al who operated out in the open, and the last hope for a renewed spiritual renaissance following the fall of Achav.

 

            Thus, Ovadyahu stood before one of the toughest dilemmas for anyone serving in a position of communal leadership, i.e., the extent to which one should work together with violent and wicked men in order to limit the damage or bring benefit to the community. Should cooperation between the righteous and the wicked be seen as recognition of the legitimacy of the evil and approval of their actions? Should a communal leader who does this be seen as a partner in evil and wickedness? Or perhaps we should see his readiness to work together with a wicked regime as street smarts and self-sacrifice that protect the community and reduce its suffering. Is refusal to work in the framework of the ruling power appropriate preservation of the purity of one's morals and non-submission to wickedness, or perhaps it is shirking and running away from responsibility? This dilemma, built into any compromise with historical reality, accompanies a person at all times and is familiar to us from the history of our people, beginning with the Israelite officers in Egypt down to the Judenrats in Nazi-conquered Europe, and we should not be surprised to find that some judge these leaders favorably and some unfavorably.

 

            In light of Ovadyahu's standing and practical influence which translated into protection for the prophets who had survived Achav's purges, leaving the house of Achav would not necessarily have been the right path in those circumstances, and it is precisely compromise with evil that may have been the proper course of action.

 

            Indeed, the verses imply that Ovadyahu acted properly and that there is no criticism of his behavior, and based on this, Chazal supported the position that justifies Ovadyahu's conduct and saw it as fitting (Sanhedrin 39b).

 

Rabbi Abba said: Greater [praise] was expressed of Ovadyahu than of Avraham, since of Avraham the word "greatly" is not used, while of Ovadyahu it is. Rabbi Yitzchak said: Why did Ovadyahu attain the gift of prophecy? Because he hid a hundred prophets in caves, as it is written: "For it was so when Izevel cut off the prophets of the Lord that Ovadyahu took a hundred prophets and hid them, fifty in a cave."

 

            Moreover, in another midrash (ibid.) Chazal point to the problematic nature of Ovadyahu's being found in the house of Achav, but nevertheless they fully justified his behavior, pointing out and contrasting it with Achav's blindness regarding his situation:

 

It is written: "And Achav called Ovadyahu who was over the household. Now Ovadiyhu feared the Lord exceedingly." What did he say to him? Rabbi Yitzchak answered: He spoke thus to him: Of Yaakov it is written: "I have observed the signs and the Lord has blessed me [Lavan] for your sake"; and of Yosef it is written: "The Lord blessed the Egyptian's house for Yosef's sake," while my house has not been blessed! Perhaps [it is because] you are not a God-fearing man? Thereupon a Heavenly voice issued and proclaimed: "And Ovadyahu feared the Lord greatly," but the house of Achav is not fit for a blessing.

 

            In fact it seems that the reason that Chazal asserted that greater praise was expressed of Ovadyahu than of Avraham is that Ovadyahu lived among the wicked. His fear of Heaven did not exist in the framework of sanctity and purity, but rather it was tried in the forge of life in the house of a wicked king and as the loyal follower of the king and doer of his word. For this reason it is considered as great and worthy of special mention.

 

            Now we can understand the significance of the meeting between Ovadyahu and Eliyahu. Both of them, as mentioned, stood before a similar situation, but each made a different decision. The one chose withdrawal and the adoption of the attribute of strict justice towards the people and the royal house, whereas the other took the path of involvement and influence from the inside. Hence, this is not an ordinary meeting between two individuals, but rather a meeting between two approaches. In light of this we must understand Ovadyahu's argument against Eliyahu when they met, which was made at two levels:

 

And now you say: Go, tell your lord: Behold, Eliyahu is here. And it will come to pass, as soon as I am gone from you, that the spirit of the Lord will carry you where I know not; and so when I come and tell Achav, and he cannot find you, he will slay me; but I your servant fear the Lord from my youth. Was it not told my lord what I did when Izevel slew the prophets of the Lord, how I hid a hundred men of the Lord's prophets by fifty in a cave, and fed them with bread and water? And now you say: Go, tell your lord: Behold, Eliyahu is here; and he will slay me.

 

            On the simplest level, Ovadyahu expresses concern about his personal safety, and his complaint is that Eliyahu is liable to put his life into danger. But on a deeper level, it seems that Ovadyahu is presenting and contrasting their opposing approaches. His argument is that Eliyahu has not changed his approach, and once again he will disappear to who-knows where, whereas he will be left to himself to deal with the reality of a wicked regime. After Eliyahu will enrage Achav and thus reduce Ovadyahu's maneuvering space, there is real concern that this will lead to a cancellation of the existing achievements that were attained with great difficulty and which he lists before Eliyahu.

 

            It might be added that even Eliyahu alludes to the tension between the two approaches in his response to Ovadyahu's addressing him as "my lord" ("Is it you, my lord Eliyahu?"). Eliyahu's answer, "Go, tell your lord," critically alludes to the fact that while Ovadyahu presents Eliyahu as his lord, Achav is Ovadyahu's true lord. Eliyahu does not say to him, "Go, tell Achav," as one might have expected, but rather "your lord," and thus he challenges Ovadyahu's leadership. Upon careful reading of the verses, we see that Ovadyahu is careful in his response to Eliyahu never to call Achav by the title "lord," but rather he consistently refers to him as Achav, saving the terms, "my lord" and "your servant" for Eliyahu. In this way he tells Eliyahu that he does not see himself subject to Achav's authority, but rather he sees himself as a prophet of God, who uses his relationship with Achav to benefit the other prophets. And furthermore, the title "lord" in reference to Achav is mentioned twice in the words of Ovadyahu, but not in what he says of his own, but in his citations of what Eliyahu said to him. It is difficult not to sense Ovadyahu's protest directed at Eliyahu that he does not understand him and that he deems him Achav's loyal servant, whereas he sees himself as a servant of God and His prophet. This gap is a consequence of their fundamentally different approaches, with Eliyahu being unable to understand how it is possible to work together with a wicked man without waiving one's personal religious integrity, while Ovadyahu sees this as a necessary and irreproachable evil, and he distinguishes between the functional and existential dimensions of his relationship to Achav.[8]

 

            An analysis of Ovadyahu's dilemma reveals another connection, one that is slightly concealed, between the haftara and the parasha. The very selection of the story of Eliyahu on Mount Carmel as the haftara for Parashat Ki-Tisa is self-evident and expected owing to the clear parallels between it and the sin involving the golden calf. In both cases, the people abandon their God and turn to idol worship, the spiritual leader returns to center stage after an extended period of absence, and he succeeds in bringing the people back to God after a sharp and violent conflict with the idol worshippers, which ends with the people's recognition of God and the killing of those who worshipped the idols. All of these parallels are the primary reason for choosing this story as the haftara, and nobody can have any doubts about it. Nevertheless, as in the case of other haftarot, there is also a more hidden connection which functions as a sub-plot alongside the central narrative.

 

            In our case, the primary narrative is the confrontation on Mount Carmel and its parallels in the wilderness, when the central figures whose modes of operation must be examined together are Moshe and Eliyahu, whereas the sub-plot is the dilemma regarding cooperation with sinners, and the starring characters are Ovadyahu and Aharon. For surely this problem accompanies Aharon's actions at the time of the sin of the golden calf and his cooperation with the calf's worshippers does not easily lend itself to moral judgment. The following citation, taken from the words of Chazal in the talmudic passage dealing with compromise in tractate Sanhedrin (7a) and its interpretation aptly illustrate the dilemma:

 

A difference of opinion is expressed by Rabbi Tanchum bar Chanilai, who says that the verse quoted refers only to the story of the golden calf, as it is written: "And when Aharon saw it, he built an altar before it." What did he actually see? Rabbi Binyamin bar Yafet said in the name of Rabbi Elazar: He saw Chur lying slain before him and said [to himself]: If I do not obey them, they will now do unto me as they did unto Chur, and so will be fulfilled [the fear of] the prophet: "Shall the Priest and the Prophet be slain in the Sanctuary of God?" and they will never find forgiveness. Better let them worship the golden calf, for which offence they may yet find forgiveness through repentance.

 

            The critical factor – which verse was stated as a response to the sin of the golden calf – is not clear from Rabbi Tanchum's statement, and we must choose from among the verses mentioned earlier in the passage. But this is a problem, for several verses were cited earlier, and therefore the commentators disagree on this point. Rashi understands that the reference is to the verse: "He that blesses an arbiter, contemns the Lord" (Tehilim 10:3s). According to this, he understands Aharon's conduct as an act of contempt towards God, owing to his readiness to be a partner to idol worship. The Tosafot, in contrast, view Aharon in a favorable light and bring a verse that in opposite manner praises Aharon: "The law of truth was in his mouth, unrighteousness was not found in his lips, he walked with Me in peace and uprightness and did turn many away from iniquity" (Malakhi 2:6). We find then that the leading Rishonim had two radically different assessments of Aharon's conduct, whether it involved contempt or a law of truth. This follows from the difficulty built in to the situation, the very same difficulty faced by Ovadyahu.

 

            Of course, Ovadyahu's situation was not the same faced by Aharon regarding the sin of the golden calf; Aharon was forced to work together with actual idol worshippers and be a partner in the fashioning of the golden calf forty days after having received the Torah, whereas Ovadyahu was not a partner in the idol worship, but merely cooperated with the regime in order to save the prophets of God, and therefore we can not necessarily draw inferences from one case to the other. What can be stated is that the built-in problem has no simple solution – and who knows the extent to which Ovadyahu suffered on his bed at night before deciding to remain in the royal house and not to desert together with his fellow prophets – and therefore the detailed story of Ovadyahu that parallels Aharon's situation at the time of the sin of the golden calf completes and contributes to the understanding of what happened in the wilderness.

 

(Translated by David Strauss)



[1] "And the word of the Lord came unto him, saying, Get you hence, and turn you eastward, and hide yourself by the brook Karit, that is before the Jordan. And it shall be, that you shall drink of the brook; and I have commanded the ravens to feed you there. So he went and did according to the word of the Lord; for he went and dwelt by the brook Karit, that is before the Jordan. And the ravens brought him bread and flesh in the morning, and bread and flesh in the evening; and he drank of the brook" (I Melakhim 17:2-6).

[2] Compare with Bava Batra 8a, where Yonatan ben Amram asks of Rabbi Yehuda HaNasi in a year of drought: "Feed me as the dog and the raven are fed." In this case, man assumes responsibility for his surroundings and is prepared to feed his fellow and so too to feed the dog and the raven. This, of course, is the proper order, where man takes responsibility for the world, in contrast to the situation described in our haftara where the raven is called upon to feed man.

[3] "Rabbi Simon said: When the Holy One, blessed be He, came to create Adam, the ministering angels formed themselves into groups and parties, some of them saying: 'Let him be created,' while others urged: 'Let him not be created.' As it is written, [according to the standard interpretation] 'Lovingkindness and truth met, justice and peace kissed,' [but this midrash explains, 'Lovingkindness and truth fought together, justice and peace combated each other'] (Tehilim 85:11). Lovingkindness said: 'Let him be created, because he will dispense acts of lovingkindness'; Truth said: 'Let him not be created, because he is full of lies’; Justice said: 'Let him be created, because he will perform acts of justice'; Peace said: 'Let him not be created, because he is full of strife.' What did God do? God held Truth and cast it to the ground, as it is written: 'And truth will be sent to the earth' (Daniel 8:12). The ministering angels said before the Holy One: 'Sovereign of the Universe! Why do you despise Your seal [truth]? Let Truth arise from the earth!' Hence it is written: 'Let truth spring up from the earth' (Tehilim 85:12). (Bereishit Rabba 8:5).

[4] "Rabbi Yochanan said: Three keys the Holy One, blessed be He, has retained in His own hands and not entrusted to the hand of any messenger, namely, the key of rain, the key of childbirth, and the key of resurrection" (Ta'anit 2a).

[5] Rashi – "Who locked his gate – Who locked his gate and lost the key, so too Eliyahu locked the gate of rain and in the end lost the key of rain, for the gate of rain was not opened by him, as it is written: 'Go, show yourself unto Achav, and I will send rain upon the land,' but it is not written: 'and send rain.'"

[6] It should be noted that something similar happened to Moshe, but not at the time of the sin of the golden calf, but years earlier when he ran away to Midyan because of his fear of the king and his disappointment with the people (see Rashi, Shemot 2:14, s.v. akhen), and it was only God's appearance at the burning bush and the command that followed ("And the Lord said unto Moshe in Midyan, Go, return to Egypt"), in terms similar to those used with Eliyahu ("Go, return," "Go, show yourself") that re-involved Moshe in history.

[7] See Sanhedrin 39b.

[8] To complete the picture, we must also examine the position of Achav and his confrontation with Eliyahu in the wake of the famine, but this is not the forum in which to do so.

 
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