Long live Rabbi Eliahu

A miracle, according to the dictionary definition, is an extraordinary manifesting of a supernatural work of God. Long weeks of hospitalizations, resuscitations, cardiac and brain catheterizations, a complex bypass operation and brain surgery, all of which 80-year-old Sephardic Chief Rabbi Mordechai Eliahu survived - contrary to most medical assessments - elevate his standing in the eyes of his followers to that of a saint, and are perceived as heavenly intervention in earthly conventions.

For months, the religious public has been following with bated breath the drama that has been taking place at Shaare Zedek Medical Center, much as the general public was riveted to the reports on the condition of Ariel Sharon after he was hospitalized.

The fact that for the last two months the rabbi has not stopped studying Torah; has made sure to fulfill the mitzvoth to the extent possible; and has even communicated with those around him - sometimes using written notes and sometimes speaking weakly - imbues his fight for life with an almost heroic quality. Add to this the dozens of stories of miracles that spread by word of mouth, miracles that according to the belief of his admirers, the kabbalist rabbi performed before his illness - and which he continues to perform even now as he hovers between life and death - and you will understand how texts such as the one written by Yossi Elituv, the editor of the popular ultra-Orthodox weekly, Mishpaha, in his paper on the eve of the recent Shavu'ot holiday.

"Surrounded by a curtain, the chief of the Torah and the pillar of the Kabbalah lies. His face is like that of an angel. On his head is a large white yarmulke. His white beard conceals the breathing tubes. His body is shattered. His mind is clear and his condition is very serious almost to the point of life-threatening."

"I was up there and came back here," the rabbi is quoting as saying, after being resuscitated for over an hour, as he explains to his sons from a hazy state of consciousness: "I'm still being judged."

Not by coincidence an anonymous copywriter from Mevasseret Zion has recently released a new disc in honor of Hakham (an honorific for a Torah scholar) Mordechai: "Long live, our Rabbi Mordechai/heir to the path of the Ben Ish Hai/a shining light from the heavens/our Rabbi Yosef Haim."

Rabbi Mordechai Eliahu himself even had a chance to hear this song, a few days before suffering a massive heart attack on the seventh night of Passover.

The fight for Rabbi Eliahu's life continues, not only in the hospital, and not only in synagogues, where Psalms are recited daily for his recovery, but also at the grave in Jerusalem of Rabbi Haim Yosef David ben Yitzhak Zechariah Azoulay (1724-1806), who is known as the Hida. The Hida was one of the greatest kabbalists and poskim (halakhic arbiters) of his generation, and Rabbi Eliahu was the one who arranged for his remains to be brought from Italy to Israel almost 50 years ago. Hardly a day passes without worshipers gathering at the Hida's grave in Jerusalem's Har Hamenuchot cemetery to pray for the recovery of Rabbi Eliahu.

Eliahu himself is known as one of the greatest kabbalists of our generation, and as a "miracle worker"; even the story of his recent illness his followers have wrapped in a series of seemingly miraculous events and it is spreading by word of mouth.

According to the story making the rounds, about a week before the deadly attack at the Mercaz Harav yeshiva, Rabbi Eliahu felt that a great punishment was about to befall the Jewish people, and he decided together with a number of other rabbis to organize a prayer service to annul the decree - and even took upon himself half of the expected punishment.

A week later, eight Mercaz Harav students were murdered, and about six weeks later, the deterioration in his health began. According to the story, "thanks to the tzaddik's [righteous person] prayers, 'only' eight students were killed during the terrorist attack at the Mercaz Harav yeshiva, and the ailments the rabbi is suffering from now are the other half."

The day after

The Eliahu family is not cooperating with these miracle stories, and sometimes even distances itself from them. Nevertheless, it is apparent that some family members are adopting exactly the same terminology used by the rabbi himself and by Mercaz Harav people after the attack at the yeshiva.

Many who tried to comprehend the difficult attack at the flagship of faith and Torah study of the national religious public, responded to themselves and others that "the death of the righteous atones."

A few days ago, Rabbi Mordechai Eliahu's son, Rabbi Shmuel Eliahu said, "in several places in the Gemara it is written that righteous men suffer on behalf of the public. One may think and wonder about this," said the son cautiously, "but it can't be voiced with certainty."

Hardly anyone talks now about the day after. What will happen to the ultra-Orthodox-national-religious public and among an entire generation of knitted skullcap wearers, students of yeshivas and ulpanot (religious high schools for girls) when the man who is considered the last halakhic rabbinical authority and whose public decisions and halakhic rulings are unquestioningly accepted by this public, departs this world.

The next generation of national religious rabbis, which is younger, has still not produced in its midst a leader who is accepted to the same extent. Awareness of the potential vacuum only intensifies the sense of anxiety over Rabbi Eliahu's illness. The rabbi's family describes the past two months as a fight between angels and the great ones below and they ask for one thing: "many prayers."

	Man praying at mass prayers for the welfare of Kabbalist Rabbi Mordechai Eliyahu (Uriah Hadmor, Jini)