The second part of the triple of Rabbi Yose the priest is (it seems to me) clearer and more straightforward:
Rabbi Yose says: Let thy fellow’s property be as dear to thee as thine own. Make thyself fit for the study of torah, for it will not be thine by inheritance. Let all thine actions be for the sake of heaven.
I’ll mention again here the thing about inheritance in our Scriptures, that it is both very important and viewed skeptically. Cain does not inherit from Adam; Abraham does not inherit from his father; Ishmael does not inherit; Esau does not inherit, but neither do we see Jacob inheriting; Joseph does not inherit, but neither do his brothers; Moses’ sons do not inherit; Eli’s sons do not inherit; Jonathan does not inherit; Absolom does not inherit. Those that do inherit (Solomon being prominent among them) often squander their inheritance.
What is the inheritance of the Jew? The Torah. I include the Oral Torah in this, of course, but also the accumulation of tradition and commentary. But really, our inheritance is the opportunity to study it and live in it; we are no more born knowing Torah than we are born knowing how to fly.
Obvious? Yes. But then, I grew up learning those things that only came to me as an inheritance: I learned the kaddish because my father said it on Friday nights, I learned a handful of blessings that my mother said, I learned my aleph-bet at Hebrew School that my parents paid for, I learned to daven at the junior service they drove us to most Saturdays, I learned a bunch of Moishe Pipik stories and some jokes and some inflections that are also part of that inheritance. And I’m afraid I pretty much thought that was it. When I left home, I had done very little on my own to prepare myself for the study of Torah. I was lucky; in college I happened to come across a wonderful religion prof, one of those life-changing teachers people blather on about for the rest of their lives. Just by chance, really, and more because I was interested in learning something about Christianity (which I had inherited almost no knowledge of, other than a few dribs and drabs by my cultural Americanism) than because I felt it was incumbent on me to prepare myself for the study of Torah.
I didn’t know anything about the Talmud, really, other than a handful of stories and the Pirke Avot. I didn’t know anything about any of the early commentators. I knew next to nothing about the Sages. I knew very little about the prophets. And what I knew, I didn’t know very well or very deeply.
That was my inheritance, you understand. There is one, and it is a good one, and I’m grateful for it. I’m trying to leave my children a similar one, on the whole (albeit with more midrash and less shoah), and if I succeed in that, it will be wonderful. So Rabbi Yose is overstating things a bit. But I thought at the time that I was done—or at least I think that’s what I thought. That I had inherited my Jewishness, and that was enough. It wasn’t. And that’s what Rabbi Yose reminds me.
Tolerabimus quod tolerare debemus,
-Vardibidian.