There seems to be, however, some exceptions to the rule. In two cases ruah Elohim does not mean prophecy. Both refer to the great biblical artist, Bezalel, who was responsible for the workmanship in connection with the setting up of the Tent of Meeting in the wilderness. Of him God said to Moses that he had “filled him with the ruah of Elohim, in wisdom, and in understanding, and in knowledge, and in all manner of workmanship.” While there is no mention here of prophecy, neither is this a case of a man being infused with “counsel and might,” with the kind of wisdom and understanding that make for authority and leadership over people. The ruah Elohim bestowed upon Bezalel was artistically creative imagination and ability. May this be subsumed under prophetic inspiration? In rabbinical tradition Bezalel was inspired not unlike a prophet. We may also note that whereas in the case of prophecy it is said that the ruah Elohim comes upon a person, Bezalel is filled with ruah Elohim. Be that as it may, according to our definition the term, ruah Y, would certainly be out of place in the case of Bezalel. He was neither a shofet nor a leader of men, neither a man of great physical strength and courage or of authority over men. As an inspired artist, he was essentially a man of the spirit. We shall then expand our definition of ruah Elohim and say that, when it attaches itself to a human being, it usually means prophetic inspiration but it may also include the divine gift of artistic creativity.
יוֹצְרָנִיּוּת f.n. creativity. [Formed from יוֹצִרָנִי with suff. ◌וּת.]
מסתכל לו בחיר יה זה בכלים, בכחות היצירה הפועלים, בההויה לכל מלא עמקה, גדלה, גבהה ורומה, רואה בכל את ההוד והטוב;
This person, the chosen of Hashem, looks at the vessels: the powers of creativity that act in existence to the entire fullness of its depth, greatness, height, and elevation. He sees the splendor and the goodness in everything.
After they are smashed, the life of the Oral Torah begins. As Moses constantly warns the people, to forget the Torah is, on the one hand, the worst risk of their future history. On the other hand, unmaking what has been made may release the object to translation, to unconscious transformations, elaborating it in a world of diffuse impressions. In a word, forgetting generates interpretation. Smashing the stony writing restores it to its elements, to its godly, human potential. Unmaking things gives value to our making. Ultimately, unmaking, forgetting clears space for human creativity.


