Elijah is at the door. His cup is waiting.

"Why are you here, Elijah?"

He has heard this question before, a long time ago. Before he left the world but did not die. 

"Why are you here, Elijah?"

He had just struck his greatest blow against idolatry. First humiliating then slaying hundreds of  prophets of Baal. The fires of G*d had done his bidding and he had done the Lord's work with the edge of his sword.

"Why are you here, Elijah"

And then, having fled he hid in a cave and G*d asked:

Why?

"Why??? I have done Your work as Your people have denied Your Covenenat, Destroyed Your Altars, Slain your Prophets! I alone am left! Why????"

And then G*d had Elijah come forth from the cave and there was a great whirlwind and an awsome earthquake and fire once more from the Heavens. And G*d was not in the roaring wind, not in the quaking Earth, not in the fire. And then silence and the faintest, slightest voice.

"Why are you here, Elijah?"

That was the end of his career as a prophet of mountains and fire. The beginning of a new journey to hear the voice of the valley, the echo in the cave.  He would leave the world carried by the storm but return to soft and invisible as the dew.

"Why are you here, Elijah"

To attend the rites of covenant and change. Marking moments of birth and transition. Bearing silent witness to the invisible G*d of the doorframe. Rustling just enough that we never know if we hear him or if it was just a gust of wind.  So when we look out we can ask not Elijah, but ourselves.

"Why are you here?"


haggadah Section: Bareich