I’ve always loved language. And over the last decade or so I’ve come to love language even more because language is at the heart of songwriting. More than blogging or journaling. Certainly more than emailing, texting, or tweeting. And in some ways even more than speaking, listening, and reading, songwriting has helped me grow closer to the power and potential of language. Rarely does a single word make or break a conversation, but sometimes a single word can make or break a song. Songs are just that way.
That’s why I’m sharing this recent run in with language here, on a blog devoted to music, musical community, and song.
This week’s Torah portion, Ki Tavo, happens to be the Torah portion of my bar mitzvah (25 years after the fact). Today I stood by one of my students as she chanted the opening lines. Those lines point out that while God has given the land of Israel to the Jews, it is up to the Jews to inherit it and dwell in it. Identity politics aside, it’s a pretty simple idea. God gives, the people inherit and dwell.
But what occurred to me today, hearing these words read aloud, has to do with the three verbs: give, inherit, dwell. God gives. A single verb to describe a single action. The people, on the other hand, inherit and dwell. There’s something going on here about giving and receiving, and it’s embedded in the language. A single verb to give, two verbs to receive (neither of which is the actual word for “receive.”). I think we’re being invited to consider how we respond to things that are given to us.
To be human means to be the recipient of countless gifts. Even in trying times, amidst raging storms and other forms of upheaval, human beings seem to be able to connect with the fact that we are given gifts in all moments and all circumstances. To be alive is to be gifted upon– whether by God, the universe, nature, our family and friends, or our own hearts. We live in a constant state of giftedness.
At the same time, all around us, we see many different ways of responding to these gifts. Some receive wholeheartedly, with appreciation, and sincerity. Others completely disregard. Between these two extremes there’s a pretty remarkable continuum. Most of us receive some of the time but not all of the time. Most of us receive consciously, but sometimes mindlessly. Most of us really take hold of some of what we are given but leave some gifts on the table, under the tree, or elsewhere. And then there’s the time honored tradition of re-gifting!
This week’s Torah portion asks us to take a look at the way we respond to our state of being gifted upon. Do we inherit but not dwell? Do we dwell before we’ve inherited? Do we do something else entirely and if so what?