The Resolve of Rabbi Yehoshua

The Gemara continues and relates:

When Rabbi Natan later encountered Eliyahu the Prophet, he asked him: “What did the Holy One, blessed be He, do at that moment (when Rabbi Yehoshua and the sages refused to listen to the heavenly voice)?”

Eliyahu said to him: G-d smiled and said, “Nitzchuni banai, nitzchuni banai!—My children have defeated Me, My children have defeated Me!”

From that time on, the tale of this segmented oven was referred to as “the Oven of Achnai”—just as the way of the snake (achnai) is to rest with its body curled around and its tail in its mouth; so did the sages of Israel encircle Rabbi Eliezer with arguments from every side!

The Resolve of Rabbi Yehoshua

Rabbi Baruch Mordechai Ezrachi, of blessed memory, continued:

Whenever we stand before this blazing furnace of Torah—kindled by the great ones of our Sages—we fall silent in awe, unable to utter a word. What extraordinary spiritual power Rabbi Eliezer possessed—commanding heaven and earth, sea and land, water and fire. Everything seemed to bend to the truth of his Torah.

And yet I have often wondered, if one may even ask:

Does a carob tree truly “know”? Does a stream truly “understand”? Do the very walls of the study hall grasp the depth of Rabbi Eliezer’s and Rabbi Yehoshua’s arguments?

The answer is: yes—in a manner that is beyond all comprehension.

All of creation—its order, its nature, the very way it operates—was fashioned from the “truth of the Torah” (Megillah 16b). When the Creator brought the world out of chaos and set earth, heavens, and seas in place, He built them upon the truth of the Torah. That truth is the very root from which creation is carved. Any deviation from it jolts the entire universe, which sways back toward that truth.

So understand:

When Rabbi Eliezer called upon creation to testify, he was drawing on the fact that even the halacha he was arguing is embedded in the very foundations of existence. And creation responded. Everything began to “dance” in tune with the Torah-truth emerging from his lips.

Yet Rabbi Yehoshua stood firm.

How could that be? Creation itself was siding with Rabbi Eliezer! Why, then, did Rabbi Yehoshua refuse to yield? And if creation supported Rabbi Eliezer, why do we say that “one does not bring proof from a carob tree or a stream of water”?

More puzzling still: in the end, the halacha followed Rabbi Yehoshua. What, then, of all the signs that Rabbi Eliezer brought?

The explanation is as follows:

Creation can offer an indication of truth—but not a legal ruling.

Creation reflects the truth of the Torah; therefore, the carob tree and the stream were indeed “responding” to Rabbi Eliezer. But an indication of truth is not the same as determining the halacha.

For within the truth of Torah lies the principle that “both these and those are the words of the Living G-d.” But practical halacha must be decided only through the Torah’s own methods—legal proofs, received and transmitted according to its accepted rules. Proofs must come from the Torah itself, not from miracles and not from wonders of creation.5

And so, Rabbi Eliezer stood among the leaning walls of the study hall—powerful, yet powerless. He had indications, but no legally binding proof, and in his anguish he turned to Heaven:

Master of the World, Giver of the Torah—You know that my ruling is correct. Come testify to the truth of my halacha!

At once a heavenly voice declared: “The halacha follows him in every instance.”

But Rabbi Yehoshua came with a different argument:

“The Torah is not in the heavens: The Torah has already been given at Sinai; we do not regard a heavenly voice. As recorded in the Torah: ‘After the majority must one incline...’”

This is a statement of breathtaking courage. From where did he draw such strength—such audacity—to stand against a heavenly voice?

Rather, this teaches us that the heavenly voice was certainly true, but the process of Torah is also true. The truth of Torah includes “these and those,” but the Torah of truth—the binding final application of halacha—must follow the rules the Torah itself established, and among them is the principle of majority.

Therefore, even a heavenly voice cannot override the halachic process: “It is not in the heavens.”6

Yet even with this explanation the question lingers: How did Rabbi Yehoshua find such strength? How did he dare to stand against a voice from Heaven?

Rabbeinu Nissim Gaon (Berachot 19a) writes that Rabbi Yehoshua understood he was undergoing a trial—the fifth type of trial mentioned in the Torah (see further below).

He stood up to the uprooted carob tree, the reversed waters, the tilting pillars, with the all-powerful heavenly voice still echoing and ringing in his ears.

Yet the more the signs and wonders increased, the stronger Rabbi Yehoshua’s resolve grew to defy them. He stood tall and declared:

If the halacha follows the majority, then all these miracles are nothing more than a test, and Rabbi Yehoshua faced the trial with courage and unshakable strength.

To explain...

Wellsprings of Wisdom

5. We must emphasize: Every Torah scholar has a unique approach in Torah study, as each soul received its portion at Sinai. Thus, as the number of Torah scholars grows, so do the approaches to Torah multiply.

Without a doubt, all these approaches are true and rooted in the holy Torah—about them too it was said: “These and those are the words of the Living G-d.”

Since that is so, their approaches must also be embedded in creation—for the world was created from the entirety of the holy Torah.

Nevertheless, with regard to halacha, we rule only according to the natural rules of decision-making that we have received at Sinai.

6. As an aside: emotional excitement has great power. When someone is swept up by something, it can shape his whole perception. Yet Rabbi Yehoshua’s inner strength was such that—even when he witnessed Rabbi Eliezer’s extraordinary spiritual force—his awe did not move him even slightly from his own position.

Every person faces this test in various ways. Even when things look “lost,” one must not be overwhelmed, but lift one’s eyes Heavenward—with hope, prayer, and quiet trust.

Rabbi Yaakov Yisrael Posen told the following story (Hineni Beyadcha, p. 394):

In a city in southern Israel lived an elderly woman, Sarah Ziv, in a large nursing home. Her only son, Shemayah, visited her faithfully every Wednesday.

One day, the nursing-home director called him with a trembling voice: “Your mother felt very unwell; we sent her to the hospital... I’m sorry—she passed away.”

Shocked but with resolve, Shemayah arranged a funeral, said Kaddish, and sat shivah.

The next Wednesday, the phone rang again.

“Hello, Shemayah—how are you?”

“Who is this?”

“It’s me—your mother!”

He nearly dropped the phone. She indeed was alive and well, chatting as usual. Clearly, something was terribly wrong.

He immediately called the nursing-home director. After investigating, the director discovered the mistake: the woman who had died was Sarah ben Ziv, who had lived one floor above. Because the names were nearly identical, the wrong son had been notified—and he had unknowingly buried someone else’s mother.

Now the director had to call the real bereaved son, Mr. Ben-Ziv.

With a deep apology, he explained what had happened: “Your mother passed away a week and a half ago... but because of the name mix-up, the funeral already took place.”

There was a long silence. Then the son asked quietly, “Was she given a proper Jewish burial? Was Kaddish said?”

“Yes,” the director assured him. “Everything was done with full respect.”

The son’s voice trembled. “If so... then she has defeated me. She was right.”

He explained:

“Ever since she entered the home, we argued about faith. I told her that since I don’t believe in G-d, I wouldn’t give her a Jewish burial—I planned to donate her body to science. She had always begged me not to, and had once even said, ‘If you won’t take care of me after my passing, the Creator of the world will.’

“Now—unknowingly—she has actually received exactly the proper burial she prayed for...”