As Israel’s hospitals continue to treat thousands wounded in the war, a story from this week’s haftarah reading (the portion from the Prophets read on Shabbat, holidays, and fast days following the reading of the Torah portion in synagogues around the world) of Elisha and the Shunamite woman’s son offers powerful lessons about healing, miracles, and our responsibilities to the injured.
In the story, from the Second Book of Kings, a desperate Shunamite woman races to find the prophet Elisha, the same prophet who had blessed her with the miracle of motherhood, but now that young son lies lifeless on his bed.
When Elisha arrives at her home, he does something unexpected. Instead of merely uttering prayers or blessings from a distance, he takes direct action: he climbs onto the bed and lies down on the boy, breathing over him until warmth returns to his body. Gradually – miraculously – the boy regains his breath, and life returns to him.
Elisha’s choice of healing method, mirroring that of his teacher Eliyahu in I Kings 17, is puzzling.
When the son of a widow in Zarepta fell ill, Eliyahu similarly stretched himself over the boy’s body and prayed to God until the child was revived.
The need for Elisha to press his face and body against the Shunamite child is not immediately clear from the story in our haftarah (II Kings 4:34).
To address this, Rav David Kimchi, the medieval commentator known as “The Radak,” offers two interpretations, each with insights that resonate today as we grapple with our wounded.
One of Radak’s interpretations is theological. He writes that while God’s power and ability know no limits, it is still the divine preference that even when particular moments in human history call for divine intervention, events should unfold with as little divergence from the natural order as possible.
In this reading, the reason for Elisha’s actions is clear; what Elisha did was nothing other than a prototypical version of resuscitation, using his own breath and body heat to revive the child.
We, too, have witnessed no shortage of medical miracles this past year, masked as standard medical procedures.
Wounded soldiers and civilians whose lives were hanging in the balance have been saved by divine grace visible only to the spiritually inclined eye that looks beyond the talented medics, emergency surgeries, innovative drugs, and other procedures.
The miraculous work of doctors
While the best practices of doctors, nurses, and medics do not break the laws of nature, their work is often miraculous.
The story of Elisha reminds us not to forget to look for miracles and to be incredibly grateful to God as well as to the doctors, nurses, and medics whose work has allowed so many wounded to survive, heal, recuperate, and return to their prior lives – at least partially, if not fully, or even more robust than before.
Unfortunately, this has not been the case for everyone. Of the approximately 12,000 wounded soldiers treated in Israel since Oct. 7 of last year, many still face a long road to recovery.
Some are learning to live with prosthetic limbs or vision impairment, while others have still not yet regained the ability to breathe independently.
Radak’s other interpretation of Elisha’s actions in healing the child contains valuable insights and lessons on how we should treat such patients, who are still undergoing long and arduous journeys of healing, including those whose condition remains uncertain.
He suggests that Elisha’s physical closeness to the child is in fact a fulfillment of a halachic (according to Jewish law) principle: when praying for a person in need, being physically present enhances empathy and focus in one’s prayer.
This approach to the mitzvah (Torah commandment) of Bikur Cholim, visiting the sick, shared by Radak and others (cf. Nachmanides’ Torat ha-Adam, Sha’ar HaMeichush) highlights that close proximity to the ill person empowers one’s prayer on their behalf.
Like Elisha, we must combine faith in miracles with direct, personal action. Our wounded defenders need not only our prayers; they need our presence, support, and commitment to walk alongside them on their journey to recovery.
This is a concept that medical professionals recognize today.
Studies have demonstrated that having visitors helps patients recover more quickly and that those patients who lack visitors fare worse than those with visitors.
As those who have been protected by these wounded soldiers’ sacrifices, it’s our obligation to honor them through the mitzvah of Bikur Cholim – to actively show up for them and create the conditions for healing.
By being there for them, we not only rely on hidden miracles but also help to make them happen.
The writer, a rabbi, is president and rosh hayeshiva of Ohr Torah Stone.