(I
was asked to introduce Parashat Shoftim
at the San Francisco launch party for the new Reboot book, Unscrolled: 54 Artists and Writers Wrestle with the Torah. I was
charged with setting the stage for David Katznelson, author of the entry for Parashat Shoftim. David wrote about Otha Turner, a fife-and-drum blues performer from Mississippi, who has been an inspiration to David and who is, to
David’s mind, a modern-day prophet. I was allotted one minute.)
At the Unscrolled launch, surrounded by the unrolled scroll. |
Now we careen toward the
end of the Torah scroll, where Moshe will breathe his last breath. In that
moment, Torah tells us there would never again arise in Israel a prophet like
Moshe, who spoke to God face to face.
Torah also tells us
God spoke to Moshe mouth to mouth. Not mouth to ear, as you might expect. But rather
God’s non-corporeal, metaphysical mouth pressed to Moshe’s waiting lips, in a
great Hollywood kiss of prophecy.
But post-Moshe, what
are we left with? Prophecy now comes in a flash, in visions and dreams.
Talmud says our dreams
are 1/60 part prophecy. One sixtieth: a tiny but not insignificant bit. After all,
one-sixtieth part treyf spoils the
whole pot of soup. One sixtieth is small but mighty.
In an hour of our dreaming,
there is a full minute of prophecy. In the 360 degrees in
which we envision our lives, there are six degrees of inspiration.
But how do we know which
six degrees?
Shoftim tells us right here: if a prophet speaks
words of prophecy and the words come true then it is true prophecy but if a
prophet speaks words of prophecy and the words don’t come true then it was
never prophecy to begin with. Kind of circular, but also kind of wise. We may have a
gut feeling, but time will tell. Time will
tell.
And who can be a
prophet? It does not need to be a monarch or a celestial being or a Messiah or an
extra-terrestrial. But instead Shoftim says it will be someone mikerev acheyhem – someone of the people, of the community. Someone
kamocha – like you. Yes, you. Really. You.
Meaning, I think, that
prophecy will come to us, if it does, each in our own language and our own medium.
So the scholar might
receive her prophecy as a flash of insight; and the preacher as a sudden, inspiring rhetorical
flourish. The painter in the studied but still impulsive brush stroke. The
storyteller in an improvised and heartbreaking twist of plot. And the blues
singer in the poetry of the lament and the discipline of the fife and drum.
And how will we ready
ourselves to be prophets? We will live the full 360 degrees of our lives. And
dream the hours of our dreams. We will do our best work, each of us in our own
language and our own medium. We will keep our ears open – or maybe our lips. And then
time will tell. Time will tell.
A 140-character reduction of this introduction was also tweeted as part of a Reboot project to crowd-source Torah thought, portion by portion. Check it out and join the conversation using hashtag #Torahin140.
1 comment:
Irwin, you may or may not be a prophet, or ever prophesy, but you sure are wonderful at explaining some of its mystery. Wish I'd been able to be there. Love the way you include us all with all our potential. Thank you.
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