The prophet of the wilderness
In every age there are prophets. Often, the prophet arrives as the homeless person, the person in prison for murder or sexual abuse, or in the words of a Shakespeare or Sholom Aleeichem on whose stories the original Yiddish version of Fiddler on the Roof was based.
Joel Grey is directing the Yiddish production of Fiddler on the Roof. For those who know the story the subtitles will not be necessary. In fact, the core of the story is the struggles which Tevye and his family face in czarist Russia in 1905. It mirrors the struggle of many fleeing violence of all forms while also attempting to hold on to core pieces of culture – of home.
If one listens to the interview by Terry Gross with Steven Skybell and Joes Grey one will soon be enmeshed in the richness of the Yiddish which flows from the heart of the of all the characters of the play; the heart of all immigrants fleeing physical and emotional violence; hunger and homelessness. Yet they, as did Anne Frank and her family , face the struggles of all parents and children; of all elders and young people who must take over as elders one day. Perhaps because I know the songs in English or perhaps because of the timing and pacing of the songs I experience them deep in my gut as they work their way around my heart and finally tickling my throat before the reach my tear ducks. ‘The Sabbat Prayer”,” L’Chaim” or “If I were a Rothchild” all speak to the historic power and struggle of all immigrants; of humans attempting to find a home.
Ram Dass famously talked about “walking each other home”. The prophet knows that we are all in need of each other. Currently, here in the United States we place immigration judges under the Justice Department, set impossible quotas for immigration judges and label South and Central American immigrants as “the other”; as criminals. We separate parents from children and now make families wait in Mexico which almost always insures they arrive before the burnt-out immigration judges without a lawyer. So called justice is dispensed in a few minutes leaving immigrants, judges, and attorneys feeling disconnected from the goal of walking each other home. Judges who do not meet their quota will or can be punished. Judges are now part of the law enforcement and not impartial dispensers of loving justice.
As I listen to the guttural sound of the Yiddish I hear a call to all my ancestors. I hear in the Sabbath prayer the prayer of all the prophets; the prayer which says show me my home; welcome me home; take my hand even as I take yours.
The sound of the Yiddish calls out the prophets of all people of all religions and all cultures. It calls us home to Africa; to our beginnings as one tribe, one people walking each other home.
This then is the call of the prophet as we begin another election cycle in the United States. The prophet is calling us home to each other. Listen. Listen to the Sabbath Prayer. Although written in the context of a culture which fears the ways of the stranger in some way, the Yiddish seems, for me, to reach beyond culture to the sacred whole. We are all part of that whole. For me, the sound of the Yiddish encompasses that whole::
“May the Lord protect and defend you.
May the Lord preserve you from pain.”
Written July 11, 2019
Jimmy F Pickett
coachpickett.org
In every age there are prophets. Often, the prophet arrives as the homeless person, the person in prison for murder or sexual abuse, or in the words of a Shakespeare or Sholom Aleeichem on whose stories the original Yiddish version of Fiddler on the Roof was based.
Joel Grey is directing the Yiddish production of Fiddler on the Roof. For those who know the story the subtitles will not be necessary. In fact, the core of the story is the struggles which Tevye and his family face in czarist Russia in 1905. It mirrors the struggle of many fleeing violence of all forms while also attempting to hold on to core pieces of culture – of home.
If one listens to the interview by Terry Gross with Steven Skybell and Joes Grey one will soon be enmeshed in the richness of the Yiddish which flows from the heart of the of all the characters of the play; the heart of all immigrants fleeing physical and emotional violence; hunger and homelessness. Yet they, as did Anne Frank and her family , face the struggles of all parents and children; of all elders and young people who must take over as elders one day. Perhaps because I know the songs in English or perhaps because of the timing and pacing of the songs I experience them deep in my gut as they work their way around my heart and finally tickling my throat before the reach my tear ducks. ‘The Sabbat Prayer”,” L’Chaim” or “If I were a Rothchild” all speak to the historic power and struggle of all immigrants; of humans attempting to find a home.
Ram Dass famously talked about “walking each other home”. The prophet knows that we are all in need of each other. Currently, here in the United States we place immigration judges under the Justice Department, set impossible quotas for immigration judges and label South and Central American immigrants as “the other”; as criminals. We separate parents from children and now make families wait in Mexico which almost always insures they arrive before the burnt-out immigration judges without a lawyer. So called justice is dispensed in a few minutes leaving immigrants, judges, and attorneys feeling disconnected from the goal of walking each other home. Judges who do not meet their quota will or can be punished. Judges are now part of the law enforcement and not impartial dispensers of loving justice.
As I listen to the guttural sound of the Yiddish I hear a call to all my ancestors. I hear in the Sabbath prayer the prayer of all the prophets; the prayer which says show me my home; welcome me home; take my hand even as I take yours.
The sound of the Yiddish calls out the prophets of all people of all religions and all cultures. It calls us home to Africa; to our beginnings as one tribe, one people walking each other home.
This then is the call of the prophet as we begin another election cycle in the United States. The prophet is calling us home to each other. Listen. Listen to the Sabbath Prayer. Although written in the context of a culture which fears the ways of the stranger in some way, the Yiddish seems, for me, to reach beyond culture to the sacred whole. We are all part of that whole. For me, the sound of the Yiddish encompasses that whole::
“May the Lord protect and defend you.
May the Lord preserve you from pain.”
Written July 11, 2019
Jimmy F Pickett
coachpickett.org
RSS Feed