In the 90th section, we're given a glimpse into the relationship between prophecy, understanding, and the very nature of Torah itself.
The passage begins with a prayer attributed to Moshe, the man of God. It’s a powerful opening, immediately grounding us in the foundational narrative of the Jewish people: "Before the mountains were born, and You gave birth to the earth and the inhabited world, from eternity to eternity You are God." (Tehillim 90).
The Midrash then embarks on a series of intriguing juxtapositions. We see verses from Psalms paired with blessings or associations related to specific tribes. "Let Reuven live and not die" (Devarim 33:6) is connected to "He who dwells in the secret place of the Most High shall abide in the shadow of the Almighty" (Tehillim 91:1). Then, this is contrasted with the tribe of Levi, who symbolically "sat in the shade of the Temple courtyards" (Tehillim 68:5).
Similarly, "A song, a psalm for the Sabbath day. It is good to give thanks to the Lord" (Tehillim 92:1) is linked to the tribe of Yehuda and the verse, "This time I will praise the Lord" (Bereishit 29:35). And so it goes, with the tribes of Binyamin, Gad, and Yissachar each finding their place within the tapestry of Psalms. It's as if the Midrash is showing us how deeply interwoven the spiritual and tribal identities are.
But then, the passage takes a sharp turn. Rabbi Yehoshua ben Levi declares, "Up until this point, I have related to you what I have heard. From here on out, you must rely on your own understanding." It's a striking moment of intellectual honesty, acknowledging the limits of transmitted knowledge. Are we, the listeners, now challenged to interpret the text ourselves?
This sets the stage for a deeper exploration of prophecy. Rabbi Elazar, citing Rabbi Yosei ben Zimra, makes a bold claim: that all the prophets, with the possible exceptions of Moshe and Yeshayah, didn't fully understand their own prophecies. Moshe said, "My teaching shall drop like the rain" (Devarim 32:2), and Yeshayah said, "Here am I and the children whom the Lord has given me" (Yeshayah 8:18). This is a radical idea! It challenges our assumptions about divine communication. Did the prophets act as mere conduits, vessels for a message they themselves couldn’t fully decode?
The discussion continues, with Rabbi Yehoshua the priest suggesting even Eliyahu might not have grasped the full meaning of his words. And Rabbi Elazar even extends this to Shmuel, considered a major figure in the prophetic tradition. The text quotes Shmuel I 12:11, "The Lord sent Yerubaal and Bedan and Yiftach." He was mentioned by name, but he did not know what he was prophesying.
The passage concludes with Rabbi Levi, quoting Rabbi Chanina, speaking about the eleven psalms that Moshe recited in the Divine chariot. These psalms, Rabbi Levi explains, were prophetic in nature. So why weren't they written in the Torah? Because, the text tells us, "These are the words of the Torah, and these are the words of prophecy, and we do not make a distinction between the words of the Torah and the words of prophecy." In essence, Torah and prophecy are intertwined, inseparable aspects of divine communication.
What are we to make of all this? Perhaps the point isn't about diminishing the role of the prophets. Instead, it might be highlighting the multifaceted nature of divine communication and, ultimately, the ongoing responsibility of interpretation. The prophets spoke, but it's up to each generation to wrestle with their words, to find meaning and relevance in their own time. The Midrash invites us to engage actively with the text, to bring our own understanding to bear, and to recognize that the search for meaning is a continuous journey.