This made me giggle: "You might think of a prophet as the kind of person you would not want as your next-door neighbor... always checking your trash for recyclables, reminding you when you're mowing the lawn that Leviticus commands you not to cut all the way to the corner of your field, kvetching about your driving on Shabbat, etc. " - Rabbi David Komerofsky in a course I'm taking on the prophets.
(Aside #1: You don't get to reverse it and argue that because you dig through my trash you're a prophet. And if you do dig through my trash, please clean up the mess. It's bad enough when the raccoons or whatever get into it...)
(Aside #2: Actually, I don't think leaving the corners of your fields would apply to lawn-mowing; it's about harvesting. But I'll grant him the rhetorical device. :-) )
The course is part of the sh'liach k'hilah program, and is internet-based. They offered two courses this spring, one on five of the prophets and another on Zionism. I'm really astonishingly weak on the prophets (and I suspect I'm not alone among Reform Jews), and it's hard for me to muster much enthusiasm for the other course, so this seemed clear. We'll be focusing on Isaiah, Jeremiah, Ezekiel, Amos, and Micah, a good group for social-justice lessons. This week's mailing was largely introductory, but there should be more to discuss next week.
In the comments, someone talked about how the "patience of a saint" is a misnomer and it's the person's *family who are the real saints. I replied:*
Definitely! And it can't be much fun living with a prophet, either -- or being one.
"Honey, what did you say to people today?"
"Just the usual -- we have to repent or we'll all die. Why?"
"Well, there's a mob surrounding our house and it looks like they're starting a fire."
"Damn, I hate having to move on short notice. Again."