Where the Wild Things Are Frightened

The brothers strip Yosef of his precious coat, stain it with blood, bring it home and show it to their father. They ask, "Is this your son's jacket or not?" (37:32)

Why the scam? Would it not have been more compassionate for the brothers to simply deny having seen Yosef at all? Why traumatize Yaakov with nightmares of violence?

II

"Yisroel loved Yosef more than all his [other] sons" (37:3). Clearly, Yaakov believed Yosef to be a Tzaddik. However, the reality was not so simple. The Torah tells us explicitly that "Yosef brought negative reports [about his brothers] to their father" (37:2). In the brothers' opinion, Yosef was not the righteous son he appeared to be; he was a Rasha who spoke Lashon HaRa and informed on them. The fact that Yaakov had positive feelings about Yosef was, as the Torah attests, due to the fact that Yosef was a בן זקנים, "a son of his old age" (37:3). The recent precedent of a father misjudging his beloved son was fresh in everyone's mind and the brothers undoubtedly felt that Yaakov had been fooled by Yosef just as Yitzchok had been fooled by Eisav. (For more on the brothers' fear of Yosef as a reincarnation of Eisav, see this post.) 

Understanding the brothers' perspective explains their seemingly outrageous behavior after they throw Yosef in the pit. 

"They took him and cast him into the pit. The pit was empty, it had no water. They then sat down to eat bread..." (37:24-25). 

To eat bread?! Is the Torah telling us that the brothers were heartless?

According to the Rashbam (37:28), the brothers never sold Yosef. They just left him in the pit where he was discovered by the Midianites who sold him to the Yishmaelites. Unaware of these developments, Reuven is shocked to find the pit empty and reports his discovery to the brothers (37:30). (Rashi interprets events differently, but the Rashbam's narrative is undoubtedly the most straightforward reading of the text, cf. Sifsei Chachomim ad loc.). 

The pit was infested with snakes and scorpions (Rashi to 37:24), and so the brothers naturally assumed that Yosef had been poisoned. Reuven says as much years later when he criticizes his brothers. "I explicitly told you not to sin against the boy, and you did not listen! And now his blood demands [justice]" (42:22). The term "blood," especially in the sense of demanding justice, is a reference to a homicide victim, as we see in Hashem's words to Cain, "The voice of your brother's blood is crying out to me from the earth" (4:10). (Consistent with his view that the brothers sold Yosef, Rashi interprets the expression differently here.) 

Presuming Yosef had been killed by the snakes, it is perfectly understandable why the brothers sat down for a feast, for this is exactly what the Halacha dictates one must do when a brother guilty of informing passes away:      

כל הפורשים מדרכי צבור... וכן המומרים והמוסרים, כל אלו אין אוננים ואין מתאבלים עליהם אלא אחיהם ושאר קרוביהם לובשים לבנים ומתעטפים לבנים ואוכלים ושותים ושמחים - "Anyone who abandons communal norms... heretics and informers, we do not morn their passing. Rather, their brothers and other relatives dress in white, eat, drink, and rejoice" (Shulchan Aruch Y.D. 345:5). 

III

After the flood, when Noach exited the ark, Hashem made a striking statement: "The fear of you and the dread of you will be on all the wild animals of the earth, on all the birds of the sky, on all that crawls on the ground..." (9:2). The Midrash explains that it had been common for animals to attack members of the wicked generation prior to the flood. Hashem was promising that going forward animals would be afraid to touch the righteous family of Noach (Midrash Aggada). The Talmud affirms the point: 

אמר רמי בר חמא: אין חיה רעה שולטת באדם אלא אם כן נדמה לו כבהמה, שנאמר נמשל כבהמות נדמו - "A dangerous animal will not attack a person unless it thinks he's an animal" (Sanhedrin 38b).

In other words, wild animals don't attack Tzaddikim. The famous story of Daniel in the den of lions is a case in point. Daniel attributed his miraculous salvation to the fact that Hashem "found him innocent" (Daniel 6:16).

Returning to our original question about the brother's behavior, we can now understand that staining Yosef's coat with blood was not, חס ושלום, a callous act. On the contrary, it was a well-considered way of informing Yaakov that he was wrong about Yosef. Yosef was a Rasha, evidenced by the fact that animals were unafraid to attack him. The brothers were attempting to ease their father's pain, consoling him with proof that Yosef deserved to die and was unworthy of mourning. Certain that Yosef had been bitten by a snake, the brothers considered a blood-stained coat to be a truthful presentation of Yosef's fate. 

Rejecting the suggestion that Yosef was wicked, Yaakov "refused to be consoled" (37:35) and insisted on mourning the loss of his son for the rest of his life. Although excessive mourning is ordinarily prohibited, Yaakov was affirming his view of Yosef's righteousness, for an exception is made for the greatest Tzaddikim. Yaakov himself is a case in point (50:3), as is Moshe Rabbeinu (Devarim 34:8). (Yaakov's and Moshe's "period of crying" lasted seventy and thirty days respectively, compared with the three days dictated by Halacha, cf. Moed Koton 27b.) 

The brothers' plan backfired. Aware that Tzaddikim receive divine protection and confident in Yosef's righteousness, Yaakov was left with no choice but to question the voracity of the brothers' story. This explains the surprising assertion of the Midrash (quoted by Rashi to 42:36), that Yaakov suspected the brothers had either killed or sold Yosef. 

[Although Yaakov felt a need to protect himself from wild animals when he slept outdoors (28:11), that was not because he doubted Hashem's promise, ח"ו. Rather, the אבות were always careful to avoid relying on miracles (עיין רבי ירוחם ליבוביץ ז"ל, דעת חכמה ומוסר, ריש חלק א באריכות).]

Of course, Yaakov was correct in his judgement. The snakes and scorpions did not attack Yosef. As Hashem promised Noach long ago, even animals that crawl on the ground would never dare harm a true Tzaddik. But the divine protection of Yosef goes well beyond the animal kingdom. Yosef is untouchable. Yaakov called him עלי עין, "above the evil eye," because the forces of evil have no power over him (Rashi to 49:22). More than that, all attempts to do Yosef harm boomerang into blessings. The brothers threw him into a pit, as did the wife of Potifar, but these crimes only served to launch Yosef's meteoric rise to power. Only a man of extraordinary righteousness is worthy of such extraordinary divine providence.

At the very end of the story, after the passing of their father Yaakov, the brothers are terrified that Yosef will finally take revenge. Appealing for mercy, they offer to be his slaves (50:15-18). Yosef responds with this observation: "You planned to do me harm but Hashem directed it for the good" (50:20). What relevance does that have to the question of revenge?

Yosef may be saying that I couldn't hurt you even if I tried, but in light of the above, Yosef is making a different point. To paraphrase his response: 

"You are afraid that I will take revenge?! You still think I am wicked and evil?! Not only did Hashem protect me from your attempted murder, He turned it into the best thing that ever happened to me! What greater proof of righteousness can there be than that?" (For a different approach to this conversation, see the end of this post.)

IV

Fascinating parallels exist between the Yosef story and the Exodus story. In the Yosef story, the brothers are afraid of Yosef, view him negatively, and decide to sell him as a slave, while Yaakov recognized Yosef for who he was and elevated him into the position of firstborn, gifting him with an extra portion of inheritance (48:22). More than that, Yaakov entered Yosef into the pantheon of forefathers, declaring Yosef's sons to be on par with Reuven and Shimon (48:5). In the Exodus story, the Pharaoh is afraid of the Jews, views them negatively, and decides to enslave them, while Hashem loves the Jewish People and declares them to be "my son, my firstborn" (Shemos 4:22). Both stories share the common elements of fear, misjudgment and persecution of the righteous. 

The consequences also match. The brothers' attempt to eliminate Yosef is what puts him into power. Similarly, Pharaoh's decree to throw the baby boys in the Nile leads directly to the rise of Moshe. (For more on the boomerang effect, see this post.)

This last point greatly impressed Moshe's father-in-law Yisro. 

Yisro rejoiced over all the goodness that Hashem did for the Jewish People, saving it from the hand of Egypt... "Now I know that Hashem is greater than all forces, for [the Egyptians were destroyed] with the very thing that they plotted against them." (18:9,11). They were cooked in the pot which they cooked up (Rashi ad loc. from Sotah 11a). 

In life of Yosef and in the miracles of the Exodus, divine intervention is evidence of divine love, and divine love is evidence of righteousness (cf. Rambam, Hilchos Teshuva 7:6). Given the complexity of life, righteousness is difficult to define and impossible to judge. People, even great people like Yosef's brothers, can easily get it wrong. Only the all-knowing Almighty knows the truth (cf. Rambam ad loc. 3:2). 

V

Another parallel between the Yosef story and the Exodus story can be found in the fourth plague, מכת ערוב.

Hashem said to Moshe, "Arise early in the morning and stand before Pharaoh; He will be going out to the water. Tell him, so said God, 'Send out my people and they will serve me. For if you don't send out my people, I will send the arov against you... On that day, I will differentiate the land of Goshen upon which my people stand; no arov will be there, so that you shall know that I am God in the midst of the earth'" (Shemos 8:16-18). Arov: A mixture of all types of wild animals, snakes and scorpions attacked them (Rashi ad loc.).

Here, when Hashem wants to illustrate the difference between Jew and Egyptian and demonstrate His presence and providence, He uses snakes and scorpions. The choice of animals is interesting. Elsewhere in Tanach, when Hashem calls upon animals to attack His enemies, He uses flying insects (Devarim 7:20), bears (Melachim II 2:24), and lions (Rashi to Bereishis 7:16), not snakes and scorpions.

The animals of arov are not random. Snakes and scorpions evoke the original event which led the Egyptian exile. Just as the righteousness of Yosef was affirmed by his emerging unscathed from a pit of snakes and scorpions, so too in the plague of arov, snakes and scorpions only attack the wicked and keep their distance from the righteous.

Dominance over snakes gains added significance in light of the fact that the snake is the symbol of the Yetzer HaRa (cf. Bereishis 3:1; Nefesh Hachaim 1:6). The idea can be expanded to include the entire animal kingdom, for all animals ultimately represent the animal within man (cf. Rashi to Yona 4:11). By definition, "righteousness" is the mastery and control of the negative drives. Animals' fear of the righteous is thus an external expression of an internal reality.

VI

The Torah is clear. The purpose of the plagues is to educate Egypt about the nature of God. Hashem wanted the Egyptians to recognize His existence, omnipotence and providence, but there is more. The Egyptians must also understand that the Jews are a holy nation. This is the message of the arov, and this is why Moshe keeps telling Pharaoh that the Jews are Hashem's People and He wants them released from servitude so they can serve Him. It is not a marginal point. As can be seen in Maimonides Principles of Faith, only one who accepts the idea of a Chosen Nation understands the nature of God. And that necessarily includes acknowledgment of the essential holiness, goodness, and righteousness of the Jewish People.

After the seventh plague of hail, Pharaoh finally surrenders to the truth. "Hashem is the Tzaddik; me and my people are the Reshaim" (9:27). This is progress, but Pharaoh's admission falls short, for he has only recognized that he is in the wrong. While Pharaoh may view the Jews as hapless victims, he has not acknowledged their special relationship with Hashem. That will have to wait for the greatest miracle of all, the splitting of the sea.

Shabbos at Sinai: Experiencing the Impossible

The Torah invests much ink and parchment in describing the buildup to the Ten Commandments. Remembering the seminal event of our history is a mitzvah in and of itself; we must read with a listening ear.

"Hashem came down on Mount Sinai, to the top of the mountain..." (Shemos 19:20)

It sounds as if the Creator of the Universe left heaven behind, entered our world and landed on a hill in the Sinai Desert, but this is not the whole story. The reality of the revelation was more complex.

"Hashem came down on Mount Sinai" - One might think He literally came down onto it, the verse therefore states [later], "You have seen that I have spoken to you from the heavens..." (20:19). [The combined verses] teach us that He bent the upper and lower heavens and spread them out on the mountain like a sheet on a bed. And then the divine throne - כסא הכבוד - descended on them. (Rashi ad loc. citing Mechilta)

Hashem was on the mountain and in heaven, at the very same time? Yes. He brought heaven down with Him. This resolves the contradiction and Rashi believes that this is the correct way to understand the text. 

Forgive me, but what exactly are we supposed to do with this information? Disregard it as inscrutable and irrelevant? If that were true, the Torah would not record it, Rashi would not comment, and we would all live happily ever after. Hashem is describing the scene for posterity and He is undoubtedly telling us something important. Our job is to figure out what that something is.
תורה היא וללמוד אני צריך

II

The Torah gives us two versions of the Ten Commandments, one on location in Parshas Yisro and one forty years later when Moshe reiterates them in Parshas Va'eschanan. Early commentators posit that the first version appeared on the original tablets which were smashed by Moshe when he saw the Golden Calf, and the second version appeared on the second set of tablets (Gaon cited by Ibn Ezra). 

Although both versions are basically identical, significant discrepancies do appear in the fourth commandment, the mitzvah of Shabbos. In the first version, we are told to "remember" - זכור - the day of Shabbos to sanctify it, whereas in the in the second version, the mitzvah is not to remember, but to "guard" - שמור - the day of Shabbos to sanctify it. As the Ramban writes, this is indeed a fundamental change, for a mitzvah to "remember" requires a positive act, reciting Kiddush, as opposed to "guard" which is essentially passive, abstaining from violating Shabbos. 

The Gemora resolves the problem. שמור וזכור בדבור אחד נאמרו. Both obligations - to remember and to guard - are equally valid and were declared simultaneously by Hashem at Mount Sinai.

Generally, the Torah does not give reasons for mitzvos, however, Shabbos is one of the exceptions, and here we find another major discrepancy between the two versions of the Fourth Commandment. According to the first version, working for six days and resting on the seventh affirms that Hashem created the world in six days and rested on the seventh. The second version, however, makes no mention of creation. Rather, it states that by observing Shabbos we affirm the Exodus from Egypt. Both ideas find expression in Kiddush, where Shabbos is said to be both זכר למעשה בראשית, commemorating creation, and זכר ליציאת מצרים, commemorating the Exodus.

III

The changes to the text of the Fourth Commandment are not random; they are complementary. There are two ways for man to relate to God and, correspondingly, there are two types of holiness and two dimensions to Shabbos. 

As the infinite and timeless being that created our universe, God is unfathomable to the human mind. Awareness of God thus generates awe and humility, turning man into a vessel for Kedusha. It takes work to gain and maintain this awareness and that is the mitzvah of "Zachor." We must engage in a positive act, the verbal declaration of Kiddush, to sanctify the day of Shabbos with an awareness of the Creator. This is the original Shabbos recorded in the first version of the Ten Commandments.

When the Jews sinned and built a Golden Calf, it became clear that this ideal was too challenging. Human beings are born, raised, and live out their lives trapped inside a physical universe. As such, our minds are more comfortable with the concrete than the abstract, and a physical idol seems more real than something we cannot see or touch. Even if man knows the truth, it is unrealistic to expect him to maintain an uninterrupted awareness of the Creator. And so, for the second set of tablets, Hashem emphasized a more accessible type of Kedusha: awareness of Hashem's presence in our world. While Hashem's essence is infinite and unknowable, He is also the one who entered Egypt and saved the Jewish People. The truth is, we know Him well; He cares for us and He is a constant presence in our lives. No effort is needed to generate this Kedusha; it is always there. We need only to preserve it and abstain from violating it. This is the mitzvah of "Shamor."

"It is a sign between Me and you." The day of Shabbos speaks to fullness of our relationship and as such both types of Kedusha are present: God as Creator and God as Redeemer. The Creator is beyond us; the Redeemer is with us. This dichotomy is the paradox of the God/man relationship - and it cannot be any other way. One type of Kedusha without the other is not only incomplete, it is false. A person who accepts God as Creator but denies His involvement in our lives is no less a heretic than the person who humanizes God and relates to Him as a friend. An authentic experience of God requires the coexistence of both perspectives: שמור וזכור בדבור אחד נאמרו. Hashem said "guard" and "remember" simultaneously. This is the unified Kedusha of Shabbos.

IV

The duality of man's relationship with Hashem finds expression in the beracha we recite before performing a mitzvah. 

Blessed are You Hashem our lord, King of the Universe, Who sanctified us with His mitzvos and commanded us to...

The sentence begins by referring to Hashem in second person (blessed are You) and then switches mid-sentence to third person (His mitzvos). It is grammatically inconsistent and deliberately so. As we prepare to perform a mitzvah, we encounter the impossible, the concurrent presence and distance of the God Who sanctifies us.

Returning now to Sinai, the meaning of the contradictory verses is clear. When giving the commandments, Hashem spoke to us from the mountain and from heaven. Yes, that is impossible, but it is the familiar impossibility we call Kedusha.

The Daily Relevance of the Decalogue

Click below to hear last night's shiur about the Aseres HaDibros. A big thank you to Mrs. Michal Aiseman for making it happen and to the Shoff family of Santa Monica for hosting.

The Daily Relevance of the Decalogue

The Gift of Yitro

Last week, the Jews crossed the Red Sea. This week, they come to Sinai and hear the Ten Commandments. But before we get to Sinai, the storyline is interrupted. Our parsha begins with the visit of Yitro, Moshe’s father-in-law, who reunites Moshe with his family and suggests that the Jews set up a judicial system to alleviate Moshe’s workload. It is only after Yitro returns home to Midian that the parsha turns to the national preparations for the revelation at Sinai and then finally climaxes with the Ten Commandments.

The Yitro interlude is odd on several levels. First of all, we are in the middle of telling the Exodus story here – why allow visiting relatives to interrupt? (The Torah is not religious about keeping things chronological; this story could have easily been saved for later.) Moreover, why do we need a Midianite to come up with the idea of hiring judges? The Jews are a smart people; they couldn’t think of this one on their own? And if this really is such a good idea, why didn’t God tell them to do it? Lastly, why is this most important parsha named for Yitro? Is this merely coincidental? Or does it allude to something deeper?

It seems that, somehow, Sinai needed Yitro. Yitro must have contributed something that made the Ten Commandments possible, something that could not have come from anyone else besides him. Now we need to figure out what that thing was.

When Yitro arrives, he sees crowds of Jews standing in line all day waiting to receive guidance from Moshe. Yitro recognizes the inefficiency of this system and he offers Moshe some constructive criticism.

“What you are doing is not good! You are going to wear yourself out, along with the people that are with you. Your responsibility is too great. You cannot do it alone.
“Now listen to me. I will give you advice, and God will be with you. You must be God’s representative for the people, and bring [their] concerns to God. Clarify the decrees and laws [for the people]. Show them the path they must take and the things they must do.
“But you must [also] seek out from among all the people competent, God-fearing men – men of truth, who hate injustice. You must then appoint them [over the people] as leaders… Let them administer justice for the people…”

Shemot 18:17-22

It seems simple enough. Moshe and the Jews like the idea (Devarim 1:12-14), God concurs (Shemot 17:23-24) and it’s a done deal. But this concept of judges is actually a lot more radical, and a lot more dangerous, than we imagine.

[Moshe said to the people,] “Your personal interests decided this matter for you. You should have said, ‘Our master Moshe, from whom is it preferable to learn? From you or from your student? Isn’t it [better to learn] from you, since you suffered for it?’ But I know what you were thinking. You said to yourselves, ‘Now that they’ll be appointing many judges over us, if [a judge] doesn’t favor us, we’ll give him a gift and he will favor us.’”

Sifrei 14; Rashi to Devarim 1:14

Taking the law out of Moshe’s hands creates a weakness in the system. While Moshe’s integrity is unassailable and the authenticity of his rulings is unquestioned, the same cannot be said for every judge. To ask Moshe to delegate was something no Jew would ever dare to do. It took Moshe’s father-in-law, an outsider whose reverence for Moshe did not approach those who witnessed the Exodus, to suggest the hiring of judges. The Jews went along with it; but even that was cause for rebuke.

Let’s turn now to the Ten Commandments. From a safe distance of three millennia, it is easy for us to romanticize the Revelation at Sinai. What could be more beautiful than experiencing God? However, for the Jews who were there, there was nothing romantic about it. It was terrifying and traumatic, and they begged Moshe to make it stop.

“Today we have seen that when God speaks to man, he can still survive. Now, why should we die? Why should this great fire consume us? If we hear the voice of God our Lord anymore, we will die!”

Devarim 5:21-22

The Jews desperately wanted the revelation to stop, but they were also interested in what God had to say. They came up with a plan and presented it to Moshe.

“You approach and listen to all God our Lord says. You can then tell us whatever God our Lord tells you, and when we hear it, we will do it.”

Ibid 5:24

It seems that the Jews would have heard more directly from God, but it was too much for them to take. Frightened that they would die, the Jews interrupted the transmission and asked that instead Moshe serve as their ambassador. God was not upset by this proposal; on the contrary, He seconds the plan in this communication to Moshe.

“I have heard what this nation has said to you. They have spoken well. If only their hearts would always remain this way, where they are in such awe of Me…
“Go tell them to return to their tents. You, however, must remain here with Me and I will tell you all the mitzvot, decrees and laws that you shall teach them…”

Ibid 5:25-28

The idea was a good one; in fact, it was exactly what God had intended. God wanted the Torah to be transmitted orally through Moshe, for that was to be the primary method of Torah transmission for all time. But this could not happen by divine decree; the Jews had to come up with this idea on their own.

To God’s mind, this was a primary purpose of the revelation. The Jews needed to feel the heat and experience for themselves why Torah requires humans – prophets, sages and rabbis – to serve as intermediaries. But the Jews would never have dared tell God to delegate – if not for Yitro.

Yitro introduced the radical idea that Judaism is not just about faith in God; it is about faith in man. In order for Torah and its justice system to function, trusting humans is necessary. Indeed, this is a central tenant of Judaism. Trust Jews. Our religion depends on it.

Prophet for a Day?

Prophecy is not equal opportunity. Even in the Era of Prophecy, G-d only spoke to spiritual giants (with the rare exception made for emergency divine intervention). One thing is certain. The average Joe never heard G-d’s voice.

It’s not a question of worthiness – the prophetic experience would kill the unprepared human. Blast the soul right out of the poor fellow, no less. The Revelation at Sinai, however, broke the rules of the game.

At Sinai, every Jew heard G-d’s voice (Shemot 20:19). It was a sublime and exhilarating experience but it was also unimaginably terrifying. It was too much to take and the Jews begged for it to end.

All the people saw the sounds, the flames, the blast of the ram’s horn and the mountain smoking. The people trembled when they saw it, keeping their distance. They said to Moshe, “You speak to us, and we will listen. But let G-d not speak to us [anymore], for if He does, we will die.

Shemot 20:15-16

Bringing every Jew into G-d’s classroom was a great idea, but it kills the students. G-d had compassion on the people and He cut the lesson short. The rest of the Torah would be taught to Moshe alone and he would get the job of teaching it to the Jews. Like many things in life, prophecy is best left to the professionals.

How many commandments did the Jews hear before the mike was turned off? Only the first two.

“Moshe commanded us the Torah as an inheritance” (Deut. 33:4). The Gematria, the numerical value, of the word “Torah” is 611. “I am G-d” (Shemot 20:2) and “You shall not have [other gods]” (Shemot 20:3) were heard from the mouth of the Almighty.

Talmud, Makkot 23b-24a

In other words, of the 613 biblical mitzvot, only 611 were taught by Moshe. The first two commandments, the mitzvah of faith, “I am G-d,” and the prohibition against polytheism and idolatry, “You shall not have other gods,” were taught to us not by Moshe, but by G-d Himself. The nation heard these first two commandments firsthand at Sinai. The remaining 611 mitzvot, “Torah,” were heard not from G-d, but from Moshe, as per the nation’s request.

G-d knew that novices can’t become prophets at moment’s notice. G-d knew that the nation couldn’t tolerate prophecy. So why did He speak to the nation only to have them beg Him to stop? Why does He freak out the Jews with the first two commandments when He could just tell them to Moshe like the other 611?

The answer is that the Moshe idea had to come from the Jews themselves.

They said to Moshe, “You speak to us, and we will listen. But let G-d not speak to us [anymore], for if He does, we will die.

The Jews needed to experience their inability to receive the Torah from G-d. Only then could they appreciate the critical role that Moshe had to play. Going through this process, the Jews realized for the first time what an incredible prophet they had for a leader.

In fact, the stated purpose of the revelation at Sinai was to establish Moshe's position as the Jewish prophet par excellence.

G-d said to Moshe, “… the nation will hear when I speak to you and they will then believe in you forever.”

Shemot 19:9

This is all fine and good, but we haven’t really answered our original question. If you’re not a licensed prophet, you can’t hear G-d’s voice and live. How did the entire nation survive prophecy, even if it was just for the first two commandments?

Maimonides has a fascinating answer to this question. He posits that hearing the first two commandments doesn’t really qualify as prophecy at all.

For these two principles, I mean the existence of the deity (I am G-d) and His being one (you shall not have other gods), are knowable by human speculation alone. Now with regard to everything that can be known by demonstration, the status of the prophet and everyone else who knows it is equal; there is no superiority of one over the other…
As for the other commandments, they belong to the class of generally accepted opinions and those adopted in virtue of tradition, not to the class of the intellecta.

The Guide of the Perplexed 2:33

In other words, the definition of prophecy is information or insight provided by G-d. If you can figure it out yourself, it isn't prophecy – even if you hear G-d say it! The first two commandments fall in this category. The converse is also true. An unprovable piece of information is prophecy when it is heard from G-d – even if you already believed it to be true.

This is not linguistic acrobatics; Maimonides is making a statement here of profound import.

Most of us can only hear what we already know. We pride ourselves on our rationality and we reside comfortably within self-imposed walls of empirical evidence and human logic. This is wonderful, of course, and it’s especially useful if you happen to be a scientist or a computer programmer, but it’s a narrow view of the universe and reality. Certainly, a prophet it does not make. The prophetic talent is the ability to hear and accept divine ideas and concepts that transcend the human intellect.

The Prophets of Old are not the only ones who require this talent; the Torah student of today needs it too. To study the eternal words of Torah is to be a mini prophet, striving to understand the Torah’s mitzvot and message and straining to hear the voice of the living G-d. To succeed, we need the humility to admit that man does not know all.