In the Zohar's unfolding prologue, we reach a profound turning point with the arrival of Elijah the Prophet — Eliyahu haNavi— appearing not as a distant biblical figure but as an immediate mystical interlocutor. Elijah steps into the prologue with the authority of heaven, revealing the secret of "Bereshit" (In the beginning) as the garment through which the King is known. This dramatic unveiling is no mere didactic moment — it is a transformative encounter, akin to a Gilui Shekhinah (manifestation of the Divine Presence), echoing both the Cave at Horeb and the Mount of Transfiguration.
Elijah as Mystical Midwife
For the Hebrew Catholic, Elijah is not just a bridge between the Testaments, he is a midwife of mystical rebirth. His role in the Zohar suggests a necessary awakening—a baptism of fire in which false perceptions are burned away and deeper spiritual meanings are born. In this way, the Zohar speaks directly into the spiritual formation of Hebrew Catholics, calling them to a prophetic mode of living: not merely recalling the past, but helping give birth to its hidden fulfillment in the Messiah.
"Elijah opened and said: 'Master of the worlds! You are one, but not in counting. You are higher than the high, hidden from all hidden ones. No thought can grasp You at all.'" (Zohar I:1b)
This prayer — which is mystical, apophatic, and intimate — offers a model of prayer for those living in the Divine Will: to adore God not only as known, but as unknowable; not only as Father, but as Holy Fire who draws near yet never consumes (see Exodus 3:2).
From Horeb to Tabor: The Prophetic Cloud and the Marian Womb
The vision of Elijah in the Zohar coincides with his biblical identity: one who hides in caves, who encounters God not in earthquake or fire but in the kol demamah dakkah, the still small voice (1 Kings 19:12). In Catholic tradition, Elijah’s presence on Mount Tabor during the Transfiguration (Matthew 17:3) seals his role as herald of both the First and Second Coming.
This has profound Marian implications. Just as Elijah precedes the Messiah, so too does Our Lady precede the birth of Divine Will in souls. Her Fiat is the echo of the still small voice — humble, hidden, yet cosmically potent. She is both the Cave of Carmel and the Cloud of Tabor, where divine light emerges from maternal shadow.
Pastorally, Hebrew Catholics are called to live in the spirit of Elijah and Mary simultaneously: to cry out with fiery zeal against injustice, yet to listen in silence for the whisper of the Spirit. Their vocation is both charismatic and contemplative, liturgical and prophetic.
Elijah and the Divine Will: The Chariot of Fiat
In the spirituality of Luisa Piccarreta, the soul that lives in the Divine Will becomes like Elijah’s chariot — flaming with divine purpose, yet wholly surrendered to God’s movement. This symbolism is echoed in Luisa's writings, where the soul in the Divine Will is said to "run in the divine spheres" and accomplish on earth what the Messiah did in His humanity.
In this way, Elijah’s ascent in the fiery chariot becomes not an escape but a template for transformation in holiness: the chariot is the Will of God, and the soul must enter it not through self-assertion but through self-emptying. The Divine Will does not obliterate the human; it transfigures it.
Luisa writes: “The Divine Will is the chariot of light in which the soul travels, not to escape the world, but to bring Heaven into it.” (Book of Heaven, Vol. 12)
Pastoral Implication: The Hebrew Catholic as Herald of the Hidden
Just as Elijah’s message was one of hidden fidelity in a time of false worship, so too are Hebrew Catholics called to live hidden lives of divine fidelity — guarding the sacred memory of Israel while announcing its fulfillment in Mashiach. They are to be custodians of mystery in a world that often trades revelation for spectacle.
This may mean nurturing small communities of prayer, spiritual accompaniment, and Eucharistic adoration grounded in the wisdom of both Seder and Sacrifice. Like Elijah, they may often feel alone, yet the Lord reminds them: “I have reserved for Myself seven thousand in Israel” (1 Kings 19:18). The Church has its quiet prophets. The Hebrew Catholic may be one of them.
Concluding ThoughtThe Zohar’s introduction of Elijah as a mystical revealer invites a deepening awareness of contemplative mission: a call to unveil, not just through words, but through the living garment of a transfigured life. For the Hebrew Catholic rooted in both Sinai and Zion, Elijah becomes the symbol of a spirituality that is both ancient and new, fiery and gentle, hidden and world-shaking.